by C. P. Foster
“I’ll take that as a yes.” His canines grew long in the space of a second, transforming into slender fangs. She glimpsed a handsome face overhead, distorted by a mouth open to strike. Oh, no, it wouldn’t be that easy, she thought, and shoved her hand up. Tina clawed at his eyes. He snarled, caught her wrist, and used it to bring her arm around, forcing her onto her stomach. Needle-sharp teeth tore into her flesh. He must have aimed for the big vein standing out at the side of her neck, but her frantic struggles gave him the less tender meat of muscle a few inches lower.
He did not even try to cloud her senses with pleasure, the way vampires usually did. It was one of their gifts, similar to entrancement, but one that did not override the victim’s free will or erase memories. Giving her this would not have violated their agreement, yet he chose not to. The agony shocked her system and turned excitement into panic. Thrashing, she flung herself this way and that, and if he had not let go of her wrist, she would have broken it. Her hand fell on something, gripped it, and she lashed out. The spike heel of a shoe stabbed his temple hard enough to leave a dent, though it didn’t break the skin. In a blur, he ripped the shoe from her hand and flung it hundreds of feet away, and this time his snarl raised the hairs all along her arms and on the back of her neck.
He had her off the ground from one breath to the next, her chest crushed against his. Long arms trapped her own at her sides. The vampire shoved his face at hers, smearing her own blood across her cheek and growling with the excitement of securing his victim. Something thick and red filled her peripheral vision, and for a confused moment she thought someone had poured blood over his head, but then she realized it was his hair. It had come loose from whatever he’d used to tie it back. He opened his mouth, hunched down with his head to one side, and struck again, this time finding the fat pulse that hammered with the beating of her heart.
Her cry sent a thrill down the length of his body. The urge to tear her open and drink her dry must have been maddening, especially since she continued to squirm within the tight confines of his hold. He held back, just barely, and stopped when her struggles weakened. Once she hung limp, he carried her off the street and into one of the warehouses.
The vampire dropped her onto a gritty concrete floor. Bright lights came on, momentarily blinding her and adding to the dizziness she already felt from blood loss. Tina fumbled to scoot as far away from her attacker as she could, only to run into a pile of rotting lumber, plastic, and rags that reeked of dust and filth. Trembling, she forced herself to look up until she found his eyes, pale blue and inhuman, staring at her. Maybe it was the angle, but he seemed like a giant. Not just tall, but broad with muscle. The lower half of his face was a wet, red mask. He used the sleeve of his shirt to wipe it clean.
“Giving up so easily?” His mouth twitched to one side.
She cringed and tried to make herself small, to hide in the jumble of refuse like a rabbit disappearing down a hole.
The giant crouched, elbows balanced on his knees, and cocked his head. “Where do you think you’re going?”
A whimper caught in her throat when he reached out to touch her leg. His fingers stroked down the calf and closed around her ankle. One tug dragged her away from the hill of junk. She floundered for something to hold on to, but there was nothing within reach, no wall or outcropping solid enough to help. The vampire dumped her on her back, caught her flailing arms, and pinned her wrists above her head.
“Do you want to live?” he asked.
She strained in his hold, but couldn’t budge him. Her answer came out in a quivering whisper. “Yes. Please.”
He eased his body onto hers, pressing her into the floor, and studied her with that little smile still curling his lips to one side. “What would you offer me in exchange for your life?”
Deep within, arousal washed through Angie like a warm tide, and she allowed a hint of it to seep into the role she played for him, so Scott would sense it in his victim. He fell still for a moment. Then he bent his head and licked the wounds he had made in her throat. The holes were already closing. Unless kept open by the suction of a drinking vampire, the bites healed almost immediately. Against her skin, he growled, “Well?”
Tears leaked from the corners of her eyes as she protested. “I don’t understand.”
“Don’t be obtuse.”
“But you could just take that!”
His low laugh vibrated over her flesh. “Of course I could. You’ll have to offer me something I can’t take, if you want to earn the chance to live. What will it be?”
“I—I don’t know. Anything you want.”
“Anything?” In the next instant he sat several feet away with his back against a concrete pillar. The vampire stretched his legs, crossed his ankles, and spread his arms in invitation. “Show me.”
The draw of the hunt was in causing fear, pain, and degradation. A vampire might survive on blood alone, but these emotional responses were what it truly hungered for. The younger ones were more straightforward, using simple violence to get what they wanted. Scott was older, though, and his tastes were more subtle. He wouldn’t let her just lie there while he forced himself on her. He expected his victim to perform. By demanding her complicity, he multiplied the humiliation a thousandfold.
Tina stood. She took half a step toward him before stopping and shifting her feet. “What, um…do you want me to…?”
“Start by taking those off.” He gestured at her clothes.
Her face flushed, but she did as he’d instructed. She unzipped her skirt so it fell to the floor and shrugged out of the torn sweater.
“Now?” she asked in a small voice.
“Don’t stop there.”
She kept her eyes on the floor as she took off her bra and panties and stood naked before him. He snapped his fingers to get her attention. With a glance at his crotch, the vampire undid the button of his jeans. Then he looked at her and waited.
Some shred of pride stiffened her spine. Tina clenched her jaw, closed the distance between them, and knelt to jerk his zipper down before bending over him. He must have guessed what she was about to do, because he grabbed a fistful of her hair to stop her just above his erection.
“If you use your teeth,” he warned, “I will yank them out.”
Then he pushed her head down.
He filled her mouth too fast, too deep. She had to fight the gag reflex. He held her there, and only let up when she smacked his thigh. The vampire chuckled.
She turned her head and glared at him. “If you don’t mind, I know what I’m doing.”
His eyebrows rose, and he held up his hands as if in surrender.
Angie fought the urge to laugh. The character she had created remained firmly in place, though, as she curled her fingers around his shaft. He smoothed her hair aside and watched her mouth moving over him. He was gentle, at first, caressing her arm and shoulder, trailing his knuckles along her back. Perhaps this wouldn’t be so bad. She’d given blowjobs before. But then he grew rough and dug his nails into her skin until she couldn’t help but cry out. His cock twitched in her mouth and grew harder. The vampire caught hold of her thigh, dragged her around, and forced his hand between her legs. His other hand clutched her hair once again and guided her into the rhythm he wanted.
Damn it, Angie thought, as he discovered how wet she was. No matter how well she played her role, she couldn’t entirely control the way her body reacted. He hesitated. Then his laughter echoed through the warehouse. Fingers thrust into her.
“Do you want to come?” he asked.
She shuddered.
“I’ll give you a choice—your life or your orgasm. You can have one, but not the other.”
That son of a bitch. She almost did use her teeth then, knowing he wouldn’t really yank them out. But if she were to play the part convincingly, she had to act as though she believed his threat. Angie forced herself to let go of her own feelings and simply be this girl, afraid and desperate to survive. She made a muffled sound ar
ound his cock and tried to squirm away from his invading hand.
Shoving her head down, he choked her again and gave her ass a hard slap. “Be still.”
The slap stung so badly it brought fresh tears to her eyes and made her tremble in earnest. Whimpering, she held her hips still, and he slid his fingers back inside. The pressure on her head eased so she could lift up and draw a breath.
Maybe he would forget this game if she made him come. Calling on all the tricks she knew, she went to work with her hands and mouth. His body tensed in reaction, and she had a brief reprieve. When he remembered what he’d been doing, his fingers began to torment her, stroking deep, then slipping out to circle the exquisitely sensitive spot just above. She couldn’t help but moan in reaction. Her instinct was to pull away, to escape the pleasure for fear of losing control, but he wouldn’t allow it. All she could do was focus on his cock and try not to feel what he was doing to her.
When she peeled his foreskin back and sucked the naked head into her mouth, it was his turn to cry out. Encouraged, she flicked her tongue over it, and stroked the shaft with her hand. As his hips begin to rock, she let go and took him all the way down her throat.
Her body continued to react to his relentless teasing. She tried to ignore it, but the pleasure built anyway. She might not be able to keep from coming if this continued. Frantic, she worked up and down, sucking him from tip to root. Her lips grew numb and her neck began to ache, yet she made herself go faster, drawing in her cheeks to keep a tight seal around his shaft.
His orgasm gushed down the back of her throat, and again she nearly gagged. The girl forced herself to swallow. At least his hand had stopped tormenting her. Slowly, she continued to slide her mouth up and down, drawing out his pleasure until he pushed her head away.
“Not bad,” he murmured.
Closing her eyes, she rested her cheek on his thigh and caught her breath.
Then he began to move his fingers again.
She scrambled to escape, terrified she couldn’t hold out. He snarled and pulled her back within reach, but she fought him, kicking at his face, clawing at his arms. Unable to gain access to her sex, he grabbed a breast instead and squeezed so hard she screamed. He closed his other hand around her neck. When black dots began to dance through her vision, she stopped struggling and simply tried not to lose consciousness.
Cautiously, he relaxed his grip on both parts of her body. She didn’t move, so he opened her legs again and waited for several moments. Then he slid his hand up the inside of her thigh, found her nub, and rolled one fingertip around it.
The flutter of pleasure sent a shiver of equal parts fear and arousal down her spine. She shook her head and tried to wriggle away. The vampire growled and laid one forearm across her neck to pin her in place. She would have begged him to stop, but the pressure on her larynx allowed no sound to escape. No matter how hard she tugged at his arm, she could not budge it. His eyes gleamed with anticipation as he willed her to come.
Two fingers parted the lips of her sex and eased inside. She didn’t dare let him continue. Not if she valued her life, and she did, far more than she wanted that orgasm, though God knew she did want it. Inner muscles tightened around his fingers as he stroked.
His face was close enough to strike. She knew it would infuriate him, but at this point she would do anything to stop that buildup of pleasure. Tina let go of his arm and thrust the heel of her hand into the underside of his nose.
He jerked back with a roar. The sound froze her like it would any prey trapped by an enraged predator. Fresh adrenaline surged through her veins, and she fought him like a cornered animal, all claws and teeth and desperation.
He could easily have gotten her under control if he were willing to damage her. Doing it without causing real harm was more difficult. The vampire struggled to subdue her, and at last got the girl onto her belly, jamming an elbow into her back to pin her to the floor while he threw a leg across her thighs. Her hands were free, but there was nothing for her to grab, no leverage, no weapon, no part of him she could reach.
He found a pressure point at the juncture of her hip and thigh, and dug in deep with his fingers. She writhed furiously beneath him. He drilled in harder, and the more she struggled, the worse it got, until she sobbed and screamed at the same time, begging him to stop.
At last he relaxed his hand and let it rest on her bruised flesh. She breathed raggedly, too weak to move. His weight left her, and for a moment there was no sensation but her own body on the cold concrete. Then he rolled her over and parted her legs once again.
“No,” she whispered.
“No,” he agreed, and instead of pleasure he gave her the agony of his fangs sinking into her femoral artery.
Between the pain and the additional blood loss, this time she could not hold on to consciousness. It was a relief to let go and slide into the dark.
She woke coughing, her mouth full of sweet liquid. The vampire bent over her, and when he drew back she saw he held a bottle of Gatorade.
“Good,” he said. “Sit up. Drink it.”
Her hands shook, but she managed to take it from him and do as he’d commanded. Sugar and electrolytes flooded her system, rehydrating and restoring energy. When she finished, he tossed the bottle into the pile of rubbish. “You’re weak.”
She forced herself to look at him. “Yeah.”
“We have hours to go before dawn. Perhaps I should give you a few drops of my blood to make sure you last.”
The character she’d created nearly cracked apart as her true personality went on red alert. Angie stared. Was he serious? Would he violate their agreement? This was the one thing she feared more than death. Vampire blood was addictive. Worse, it formed a bond between victim and vampire—a bond that felt like love. One that could not be broken or escaped.
She’d survived that bond before. It had been over a decade since she’d last had a taste of vampire blood, but its siren song still whispered her name, and it was only by sheer determination that she blocked it out. Determination and hatred. For them. For herself. For desires she could not control, yearning she should never have felt.
If he really intended to do this, there would be no more role-playing. She would rather die than go through it again. Die or kill. Her chances of the latter were nearly nonexistent, but it didn’t mean she wouldn’t try. Somewhere in the pile of refuse were splintered pieces of wood. One of them might be sharp enough.
Angie flinched when his fingertips caught hold of her chin. He tilted her face so he could study her reaction, and though she tried to maintain the façade of the terrorized party girl, she felt certain he saw at least a hint of the thoughts boiling just beneath. His pale eyes narrowed.
“I won’t waste my blood on you,” he decided. “But try to last the night.”
She answered with a twisted little smile, “I’ll do my best.”
A grin broke across his face. For just a moment, Angie and her client felt each other’s exhilaration, hers in facing down the pain and violence, his in dishing them out. Then she was once more the hapless girl, and he the torturer toying with his victim.
He put her on her stomach with her face pressed against the filthy floor and lifted her hips so he could take her that way. He made no effort to arouse her now. She still felt pleasure, but it was mostly from the endorphins flooding her system. They drugged her into a state of euphoria that allowed her to take more abuse, to lose track of time and ride the madness like ocean waves. When he hurt her badly enough, instinct kicked in and she fought him. Their bodies twisted into new positions each time she struggled to escape, and his laughter rang through the warehouse, punctuated by her screams. She took everything he gave, until something inside her finally broke.
Angie had reached her limit. The fight left her, and she fell still beneath him. Scott hesitated before moving away. He disappeared for a moment, and when he returned he picked her up and placed her on something soft. A mattress, perhaps, or some kind of foam pad. Sh
e was too out of it to notice or care. However much she might love the violence, and the ecstasy of pain, it took its toll. Angie curled into a fetal position. Wrung out, emotionally as well as physically, she began to tremble so hard her teeth chattered.
To her surprise, the vampire lay down at her back and wrapped his arms around her. He pressed his face into her hair, warm with the borrowed heat of her blood, and she nestled into him, astonished he would offer comfort after having taken what he paid for.
“Shh,” he whispered. His hold did not restrain her now but held her safely until the worst of it began to fade and she grew quiet.
Angie murmured a protest when he left her, but he returned an instant later to wrap thick blankets around them both. They lay together in stillness, the only sound her ragged breathing.
After some time, he stirred. A hand caressed her arm, and his lips moved against her hair. “I won’t ask if you’re all right. Obviously, you aren’t. But will you be, eventually?”
Of course she would be all right. This was her gift, and her avocation. She had chosen it of her own free will.
“Yes,” she slurred. “Eventually.”
“We have an hour before dawn. Do you want me to stay with you until then?”
She nodded and curled tighter into a ball. He folded himself around her. No pain. No pleasure. Only comfort. Angie closed her eyes and let exhaustion carry her into sleep.
Chapter Three
This is an exciting time in the field of anthropology. Many of the so-called supernatural species are coming out of the shadows to begin a meaningful dialog with humanity. In these last few decades we have been presented with the unparalleled opportunity to study them firsthand. We have always known of their existence, but up until now have had little more than folklore, superstition, urban legend, and anecdotal evidence.
