by Aja James
The first thought she had was: she’d tasted him before.
She could not recall the time or place, but she knew deep inside that she’d had him before. She knew.
The second thought she had was: Mine.
And then she felt it.
The slight shudder that passed through his body. The almost inaudible sigh as his last breath left his chest and the hand she held grew instantly colder.
Inanna’s own breath froze along with her thundering heart. Everything came into focus in these few moments, before his soul permanently left his body.
She knew what she had to do.
*** *** *** ***
The vampire returned to her lair before the first rays of dawn, shutting her chamber door with a soft click and divesting her body of the constraining leathers.
So close.
She’d been so close to taking the delectable human fighter’s soul as well as his addictive blood.
Hissing her impatience, the vampire walked nude to stand before a full-length mirror.
A beautiful female stared with blood-red eyes back at her, all but glowing with strength and vitality, the recent feeding adding a sheen of radiance to her skin, a rosy blush to her cheeks.
Oh his blood had been so strong, she thought with renewed desire, not at all the weak watered down version that flowed in most humans. Only its blood could surpass the power that sang through her body as she consumed each drop.
How was it even possible that a human could possess such ambrosia in his fragile veins? His soul, she knew, would have been magnificent as well, and if she’d had the time to properly enjoy her delicious reward, she would not feel the thwarted dissatisfaction that even now tasted of acid in the back of her throat despite the fullness of her body.
And his body, oh his body.
She reached down to touch her hairless core and watched her eyes close half way in the mirror with barely leashed lust.
She envisioned his long, lithe leanness, the way he moved like a lethal warrior from ancient times, his fighting maneuvers as beautiful and graceful as they were precise and deadly, his angular, fallen-angel’s face with its full, wide mouth…
Aaaahhhh, the vampire moaned as her come seeped down her thighs, wetting her fingers.
She brought her hand to her face and licked the fluids meticulously, holding her own gaze in the mirror.
If only it was his seed on her fingers, flooding her mouth, dancing on her tongue. If she had thought more clearly, she would have brought him to her lair, perhaps kept him alive for a while to enjoy properly.
Maybe even indefinitely.
But alas, her bloodlust had overcome her reason and she was too hasty with him. Even so, the vampire thought as she turned away from the mirror and wrapped a satin robe around her body, it was not entirely her fault she’d wasted this rare opportunity on a mere feeding frenzy.
It was Inanna’s fault.
How did she discover the location so quickly? The vampire had made certain her human sources were silenced already. It would not be pleased with this setback, for it seemed the Chosen had more resources that they estimated.
The vampire scoffed, her upper lip curling in a sneer.
One of these days, she would deal with the Angel of Death. It was all part of their plans.
She just had to be patient.
*** *** *** ***
Something sweet and thick trickled in a steady drip into Gabriel’s mouth, the aroma awakening his senses, the taste blossoming on his tongue.
Vaguely, he registered the tingling that was beginning in his extremities, like thousands of needles prickling his burned-out nerve endings.
Was he sleeping? Was he awake? An ever-present exhaustion weighed down his limbs, paralyzing his body, numbing his mind.
He was so tired. Surely he could rest a while longer…
Third millennium BC. Silver Mountains Colony, hinterlands of the Akkadian Empire.
A long, languid sigh flowed sweetly from Inanna’s lips. Such a wondrous feeling that surrounded her, glowing within her. She’d never felt better in her life.
Loathe to bring her cozy nap to an end, she slowly raised her eyelids, still heavy with drowsy contentment. She was so warm and comfortable, as if cocooned in sunshine and clouds. She felt as if she were floating in a dream.
Perhaps this was the promised Sanctuary of the Goddess, where Pure Ones’ souls returned after a long, fulfilling journey.
Through the curtain of her lashes she saw something that reminded her of a lush plum, though not so dark in color, and the seam that divided the halves of the plum was horizontal, not vertical. She blinked rapidly and tried again.
Her vision suddenly grew sharper so that she could see fine lines radiating from the dark seam. Her eyes rolled slightly to the left, then to the right. The long dark line was bracketed by deep indentations on either side. Her vision suddenly became even more acute so that she saw what appeared to be giant individual hairs spouting from crater-like pockets all around the indentations.
What in the Goddess’s name—?
She sat up abruptly and knocked her forehead into something sharp and hard.
“Ow!” Inanna and the object she bumped into voiced at the same time.
With a small shriek she leapt to her feet, swiveling her head from side to side, taking in her surroundings. It took a few moments for her eyes to adjust, the images she took in gigantic and up-close one moment, tiny and faraway the next.
She tried again, concentrating hard.
The tamarisk grove. The mountain cliff. Alad reclining with his back against the knotted trunk. The villages and fort below the…
Alad!
She turned back to the Pure male in question.
Alad was breathing deeply and slowly, as if he had just run a long distance and it took great effort just to draw air. His eyes were half-closed, his body relaxed.
“Glad to see you are well again,” he murmured in his deep, husky voice though it was barely a rasp at the moment.
Inanna desperately tried to think, to remember.
She had gone to watch Alad train as per usual this afternoon. She had been feeling wretched yet full of nervous energy, and being near him had only made it worse. They had walked together to their habitual spot. She recalled inhaling something intoxicating and enlivening, and then she was overset by one of her nightly fits, though much, much worse. After that she…
Inanna gasped as her gaze focused on his throat.
Though she wanted to deny what she saw, her enhanced vision took in the two perfect puncture marks in the vein that throbbed visibly in his neck. Like a bird of prey, her irises dilated as she tracked the single drop of blood that seeped from the wound like a tear.
Mine.
The word echoed in her consciousness with ferocity, covetousness and savagery. Her fangs began to descend from her upper gums as she once again felt the fiery thirst.
“Take more of me if you wish,” Alad’s quiet voice broke into her mindless bloodlust. “You have been starving after all.”
As the words registered, Inanna let out a tortured whimper and took a step backwards, then another. The meaning of what he said became all too clear and she crashed to her knees on a keening wail.
What had she done! Oh, what had she done?!
He moved to get up and reached for her but lacked the strength to stand. He kept his arm extended, his hand outstretched and beckoned her, “Come here, Libbu. Stop your thoughts. We will work through this together.”
“Come,” he motioned with his hand, his deep voice reverberating inside her head, as if his voice came from within her, and she was drawn by an irresistible force to obey his command.
Uncertain and ashamed at what she’d done, at what she was, Inanna slowly approached her victim, the male she loved most in this world, even more than her papa.
When she was within reach, he gently caught her upper arm in his weak grasp and pulled her into his lap. Loosely he held her against his chest
, resting his chin on the top of her head.
For a time, she stayed silent and still within his warmth, soaking in his soothing scent through every pore. Finally she swallowed on a gulp, choking on her words through free-flowing tears.
“I am so, so sorry,” she stuttered, “I do not know what happened. I-I-” she bit her lip to stop her shameful blubbering. “I am a monster,” she whispered, “I deserve to be punished.”
“Do not worry, Libbu. You are still you,” his voice rumbled low and calming against her hair. “There will be no punishment. One cannot help one’s nature.”
She risked a glance upwards into his face, and saw that his eyes were closed, as if he could barely stay awake.
“I do not want to be a-a- vampire,” Inanna could scarcely even utter the word. Doing so made it all too real.
She felt his brief smile rather than witnessed it. “And yet it appears that you are a Dark One nevertheless. We do not get to choose who we are, but we do determine what we do.”
“But I do not want to take innocents’ blood and souls!”
Inanna began to feel frantic and trapped again. It was a prison from which she could not escape, for the prison walls were her own skin and flesh.
“I do not want to hurt others! And yet I hurt you terribly,” she ended forlornly, her voice breaking and full of regret and self-hatred.
He wrapped his arms around her more tightly and took a deep breath.
“You did not hurt me. Verily, I feel full of health and vitality, if a bit sleepy. I felt no pain when you… fed.”
In truth, the process was startlingly pleasurable, and he almost embarrassed himself with sexual arousal.
But not quite.
Instead, his blood hummed and heated languidly, his muscles relaxed even as his skin became ultra-sensitized, his manhood thickened but did not harden. He was suspended on the verge of release, but mercifully he did not, although he doubted he would have had any say in the matter.
While she drank from him, he seemed to have lost all control, his body a pliant and willing slave to her needs.
Was this what it was like to be a Blood Slave?
Alad never knew. He had been born free and fought to remain so. Was he a slave if he consented? Although he’d made neither gesture nor word, his heart had opened to her gladly, somehow knowing he had what she required to become well again.
“How will I face Papa when he returns,” the precious bundle in his lap murmured with apprehension, and he felt another wellspring of tears on the horizon.
“I suspect he knows,” Alad said with half a smile. “He is your father after all.”
“But he never said anything!” Inanna suddenly found her fire, “why did he not warn me! I thought… I thought I was Pure like everyone else.”
More softly she said, so that he had to lean in to hear her, “I thought I would grow up, fall in love and find my destined Mate like the stories he used to tell me.”
Alad considered how to respond.
“As I understand it, Dark Ones grow up and fall in love too. I believe their other half is called Blooded Mate. I am not certain how it works, but the Scribe told me once that in their Scrolls, something like the ones we have, there is mention of ancient lineages from the bond of Blooded Mates.”
“But I want—” abruptly Inanna bit back her words even as they began to tumble out.
“What is it you want?” Alad pressed patiently when her silence stretched on.
For a long time, she kept her thoughts secret, and they relaxed together against the tree, watching the evening breeze stir the leaves and fragile blooms.
“I want you.”
The words were so soft, they seemed like the wind’s whisper in the air. But Alad heard them in his heart, in his very soul.
He smiled and laid his cheek against her fine, golden crown.
“Then you shall have me,” he promised her. Teasingly, he tugged a lock of her hair. “But you have to grow up first, Libbu. You must stay strong and vital.”
“You will wait for me then?” she asked him innocently, full of effervescent joy once more. “You will not have any other female?”
He doubted she fully comprehended her request, but he answered her solemnly nevertheless.
“Aye. I will have no other female. When you are a woman and if you still want me, I shall be yours without contest.”
As I already am.
*** *** *** ***
“I’m pretty sure I’m right this time.”
Sophia leaned in more closely as she stared unblinkingly into a face that was growing out of the cherub stage but with cheeks still rounded and eyes still wide with angelic innocence.
Said eyes stared right back at her, also unblinkingly, framed by long, lush lashes that made Sophia a bit envious, truth be told.
She nodded in conviction. “He has a Pure soul, I can see his aura glowing bright white.”
Benji sat on a bar stool in the kitchen of a very large room, maybe more than three times the size of his home with Daddy. There were floor-to-ceiling windows along an entire wall. Below, he could see a small park and garden. On the horizon, the sun was beginning to peak through wisps of clouds.
The strange place and his unfamiliar surroundings did not hold his attention, however. He was more interested in the three beautiful elves who stood around him, all staring at him with concern and concentration.
They had to be elves, like the ones in Lord of the Rings. He and Daddy had watched the movie more times than Benji could count. And he could count pretty high.
He was smart. In fact, he was even starting to read the children’s illustrated version of the books without Daddy’s help. In the books and in the movies, the elves had similar features to the strangers before him—except for the pointy ears.
They were all three tall and slim, like Daddy. And they looked eth-real. Benji was proud of himself for remembering that word. Really hard to say, especially when he tried to say it repeatedly to memorize it better. He looked it up in his pocket-sized Merriam-Webster Dictionary. It meant “a: of or relating to the regions beyond the earth. b: celestial, heavenly. c: unworldly, spiritual.”
Of course, he then had to look up a bunch of the other words in the definition itself, but he got the gist.
Two of them even had long hair almost down to their waists, just like the elves. The shortest one with shoulder-length brown hair was more normal-looking, but still really pretty in Benji’s estimation. She was the closest, so he reached out and poked a finger into her cheek.
“Are you an elf?”
She reared back as if shocked that he could speak. Come on, he was five-and-three-quarters, well, two-thirds, but who was counting.
“I’m hungry,” he said next when no response was forthcoming from the group around him, followed quickly by, “where’s Daddy?”
The golden one spoke up, smiling at Benji in a worried way, as if she feared he might cry or something. Geez, adults could be so unnecessarily nervous.
“Your father will be back soon. Your friend Nana left you in our care while she went to get him.”
Benji nodded at that, and when he didn’t burst into tears, the blonde elf seemed to relax. “I’m Aella, by the way,” she stuck out a hand as she said, “nice to meet you.”
Benji took the hand in his warm little grasp and squeezed firmly like Daddy taught him. “I’m Benjamin, but you can call me Benji.”
She then included her companions in the introduction, “This is Cloud,” she gestured to the tall male elf with long, pulled-back black hair and laser blue eyes. He nodded and Benji gave a little wave back.
“And this is Sophia,” Aella said as she put a hand on the young woman’s shoulder.
“Hiya,” Sophia grinned her greeting. “So you’re hungry are you?” She checked what looked to be a bracelet on her wrist. “It’s six o’clock. Guess an early breakfast will do everybody good. What do you feel like having? Waffles? Eggs and bacon? Cereal?”
“Waffles
please,” Benji replied, getting more comfortable with the elves. If they were Nana’s friends, they were his friends too.
As Sophia began preparing the necessary ingredients and Aella took out the waffle iron, they bickered good-naturedly back and forth about Sophia’s cooking skills or lack thereof. Cloud watched the exchange with Benji and the males shared a silent, meaningful look.
Women, the look said. They perfectly understood one another.
Benji liked his new friends. Elves were his favorites in the Lord of the Rings. They even spoke their own magical language.
Benji wondered what Sophia meant when she said he had a Pure soul.
*** *** *** ***
In the dark, windowless storeroom, there was no sign of daylight, but Inanna sensed that the sun was rising slowly but surely this cold, winter morning.
She wrapped her arms more tightly around Gabriel as she cradled his head in her lap. The last few hours had been exhausting and agonizing for both of them.
As his body contorted, shook and shuddered through the Change, it was like dying a thousand deaths. For her, watching him endure the seemingly never ending torture, the process was only slightly more bearable.
Her only consolation was that he had not been conscious through the ordeal. His body had been on auto-pilot.
Finally, he had stilled, his chest heaving, his skin covered with cold sweat, pulled tight and taut over his bones and flesh, his newly charged veins standing out like tree roots against it.
She smoothed back the sweat-matted hair from his face and saw the flesh starting to knit around his right eye. The swelling was subsiding visibly. It was working—the Dark blood that now flowed through his veins.
His chest rose on a deep pull of oxygen, and he slowly, painstakingly opened his eyes.
As he blinked her into focus, he shook his head free of her loose hold and gingerly raised it from her lap, drawing his body to a sitting position.
His voice barely a rasp, he said, “Where am I?”
“You’re safe,” Inanna replied, “and so is Benji.”
Gabriel somehow knew she spoke the truth and accepted it.
