The Consort - A Vampire Romance Novella

by ZB Burroughs

  “Here’s the deal, Ms. Tauthe. It looks like someone is trying to get rid of both of us. I don’t like being taken for a fool. You help me, and I’ll help you get your throne back.” With a click, the cuffs on her ankles fell away and he returned to her wrist. It seemed only a few seconds before the tumbler released. She grabbed them by the chain and collected the ankle cuffs as well, offering them to him and ignore the faint sarcasm in his voice. Scoff as he might at her pseudo-royalty, she would have her power back.

  “You have a deal, Mr. Carbine. You’ll want to keep these, they may be useful.” He shrugged and dropped them into the satchel leaning against the wall. Then he shrugged out of his jacket and offered it to her. “Most likely they will have gone after my consort if they had the gall to go after me,” she pointed out as she took the jacket from him, grateful for the scant covering as she stepped out of the sarcophagus. She was startled that standing, he was a few inches taller than her still. It wasn’t often she was confronted by men much taller than her.

  “Let’s focus on getting out of here first, then we’ll worry about your friend,” Jon grunted and slung his bag over his shoulder. “Call me Jon.”

  “Alright Jon. Call me Ni.” It was impossible to ignore how much the jacket smelled like him- it told a story all its own, fragrant with cigarette smoke and the bitter tang of gunpowder, faint traces of blood and something like faint, floral perfume all mingling with the unmistakable male musk she would now recognize anywhere. She brushed past him to the door, pushing against them to test how hard they were barred. The great doors groaned under her strength. She looked back over her shoulder at him.

  “Can you open them?” He asked. She shook her head.

  “My strength is waning, it has been too long since I have fed.” She turned back towards the doors, pointedly aware of his warmth as he moved up beside her and reached into his bag.

  “Well, I can’t help you with that, Ni. Back up.” She shot him a withering glare at the flat denial and grunted order, but backed up all the same, allowing him free access to the door as he kneaded something in his hands, molding it into the door crease. Then he backed away from the doors as well, grabbing her elbow and drawing her around to the far side of the sarcophagus. She knelt next to him. “Cover your ears.”

  She pressed her hands over her ears and was mildly surprised to feel his hands over hers, his body pressed close to her side. Ni had a moment of surreal silence, amused by the fact that he was trying to protect her. There was a small explosion behind her and she grit her teeth as the sound of it overwhelmed her sensitive hearing, positively deafening. In that instant, she was grateful for his forethought. He was up and moving before the pain had even begun to subside, grabbing her hand and pulling her along with him.

  Ni opened her eyes as he led her through the blown out mausoleum doors. She couldn’t rely on her hearing, ears still ringing, but her other senses were highly attuned. She was hardly helpless. She freed her hand from his, gesturing for him to lead on through the cemetery. The night was alive with movement, even under the velvet dark sky. She could see them, and more than that she could smell them. Strangely though she could not feel them, could not reach them with her mind. Another master must have been shielding them from her, preventing her from taking back control of her own people. She snarled.

  She smelled the sharp tang of gunpowder the same instant the bullet slammed into her shoulder. She hissed, anger quickly overwhelming the pain response. In her periphery she saw Jon beginning to return fire. There were humans mixed among the vampires here- in fact, more humans than her own kind. They were both armed though, and that was something she couldn’t abide by. In an instant she flitted away from Jon’s side, painfully aware of the burning thirst that sapped her strength and speed. She had been dealing with this hunger for nigh on 3000 years though. Tonight would not be the night that it ended her.

  The ringing in her ears had begun to fade slightly, and she could here Jon call out to her once, oddly calm in the face of overwhelming violence. He was working his way towards the parking lot. She made note of it, then locked her eyes on her target. He was a young vampire, one she remembered welcoming into their flock. He had come from another territory, fleeing the decadence and violence of that court. Anger surged in her and she leapt as his focus was on Carbine. He flexed underneath her like a cat, writhing as she drove him to the ground, tangling a hand in his hair and forcing his eyes to meet hers, even as she heard aid running to him.

  “Show me your new master.” She hissed, a petty surge of pleasure running through her as his eyes widened in fear. Though no great telepath, she latched onto the string in his mind, the fence that kept her out and she followed it, chasing the silver thread back to its origin. In her mind’s eye, she ran alongside the crystal thread in the form of a sleek black cat, the likes of which hadn’t walked the earth in centuries, and never on this side of the world.

  Abruptly the cemetery disappeared, her own opulent room snapping into focus. Familiar dark eyes stared back at her, and she saw a trace of fear in them before Emilio’s familiar wry smirk slid into place. “I see Jon failed to fulfill his contract, my dear. Be a love and die for me like you were supposed to.”

  She snarled as he thrust her out, back along the line that had led her to him until she slammed back into her own body. As if freed from hypnosis, the body beneath her sprang into motion again, nails digging into her bare skin and his fangs reaching for her throat. She backhanded him into unconsciousness, suddenly aware of half a dozen other presences at her back. She sprang away, not bothering to look back. Ni fled for the gate- Jon had already reached it, though he had no chance to climb it beset on all sides.

  Hot blood whet her appetite as she sprang upon the nearest to her, taking little time to feed as she bought her impromptu ally the space he needed. Seeing their attention turn towards her, he hesitated only a minute before he turned back towards the gate and scaled it. As soon as he was free of it, she tore herself away from her warm blooded victims and lunged after, hardly touching the fence as she leapt over it. He was already at his car, an old jeep that looked as if it had seen its fair share of combat.

  She slid into the passenger seat as he started the car and they screeched out of the lot. She watched in the rearview mirror as the cemetery faded behind them, with no signs of pursuit. He kept his eyes on the road, only occasionally glancing up at the rearview mirror. Ni fastidiously wiped the blood from her chin, surreptitiously licking her fingers clean.

  “There’re napkins in the glove box,” he grunted, glancing sidelong at her and meeting her eyes briefly. She was surprised by the humor she saw in their cat-green depths and the slight crooked smile on his face.

  “Thank you.” She opened the glove box and found the promised napkins, cleaning herself up as best she could. The white hot anger slowly faded, drawn into her core and boxed away. She couldn’t afford to have it fogging her mind. “It would appear we have the same enemy, Jon.”

  “What makes you say that?” She ignored his sarcasm.

  “My consort has apparently decided that he is fit to rule this city. This is his coup you are caught up in and for that I apologize. I have never been able to read Emilio very well.” She admitted. Though the car stank of blood to her sensitive nose, she caught a faint undercurrent of something else, something sweet- almost floral. It was like a phantom though, half-imagined.

  “Wonderful. I do try and avoid getting caught up in your kind’s politics.” Jon shrugged, then winced and she noted that he was wounded in several places. She had seen other men go down under many less wounds, and it made her brow knit in concern.

  “We should find somewhere to stop soon, and see to your wounds.” He nodded, but didn’t reply. She settled back into the worn upholstery, pulling his jacket a little tighter around herself. Ni watched him from the corner of her eye, worried that the blood loss and shock might begin to take their toll, but he bore it well. They drove for nearly an hour, well outside the city limi
ts, before they rolled in under the faded lights of an old motel.

  “I need my jacket.” He turned slightly towards her, moving stiffly. “It’ll cover up the worst of this so they don’t ask too many questions.” She nodded and slipped out of his jacket, crossed her arms over her chest as he got out of the car, shrugging into the jacket with a quiet grunt of pain as he made his way towards the office. The wait seemed to drag on forever before he came back out. In silence he drove them around to the back of the small motel and ushered her into the room.

  She sighed with relief as the door closed behind her, poignantly aware that the night had dragged on quite long. Dawn could not be more than a few hours off. He gestured for her to use the shower first, and she gratefully ducked into the bathroom. The hot water was a welcome relief, cleansing the grave dust and dried blood from her skin. She reluctantly cut her time short beneath the spray, toweling off and wrapping herself in the cheap terrycloth robe hanging from the back of the door. It was better than nothing.

  When she left the bathroom, Jon looked up from his seat at the table, his arsenal spread out already and one gun partly disassembled. He’d peeled out of his shirt, leaving the blood soaked garment crumpled in the trash. His torso was as scarred as his hands had been. She quickly glanced away when she realized he was watching her. He passed her without a word, closing the bathroom door firmly behind him. She heard the water turn on and sank onto the bed with a sigh. Closing her eyes, she rested her head back against the head board, drawing her knees up to her chest. Emotions roiled in her gut- betrayal, anger, and sorrow fighting for prominence.

  Suddenly, she realized why she felt so strangely. Every voice, every presence she was used to feeling in the back of her head was gone. Fear seized her, squeezing an icy hand around her throat until she blinked back the burning tears and forced herself to think rationally. Emilio would not have and could not have killed them all. He had simply taken them from her- if they thought she was dead, who were they to argue against swearing fealty to the man who had been her confidant and second in command for centuries.

  “Ni?” Jon’s strained voice brought her out of her ruminations. “I need your help.” Ni stood and went to the bathroom door, hesitating briefly before she turned the knob. It was unlocked. The shower was off but the bathroom was still filled with steam. He had a first aid kit open on the small counter, but she immediately saw the problem- one of the bullets had torn through his shoulder, and he couldn’t move well enough to reach it properly.

  She helped him clean the wound and padded it with sterile gauze, wrapping it snuggly. The white gauze seemed so prominent against his tanned, weathered skin and grey scars. She stayed once that one was taken care of, and he didn’t protest as she patched up the rest of his wounds where bullets or fangs had managed to slip past the bullet proof vest he’d worn. Ni marveled again on how he was still standing despite his injuries. She caught his eyes wandering as she straightened up. He glanced away quickly and she looked down, noticing that the robe had fallen open somewhat, revealing a long line of dusky skin and the swell of her breasts.

  Her hand brushed along his thigh and the edge of his boxers, a faint shiver running up her arm at the contact of his warm skin against hers. His callused hand caught her wrist, but instead of pushing her away like she half expected, he simply held her wrist, watching her. Her eyes met his. An electric spark seemed to leap between them, and before she checked her impulse she leaned forward and kissed him.

  Jon’s lips were hard against hers at first, the slightly chapped texture more curious than displeasing. Gradually he relaxed and responded. His other hand found her waist, resting just lightly but even through the terry cloth robe the contact was deliciously warm against her cool skin. His grip loosened on her wrist, callused palm running up her arm over the robe then dipping under the collar to cup the back of her neck, drawing her lightly towards him. Ni allowed him to draw her closer, her hands suddenly pinned against his chest, the shock of different textures beneath her fingers making her press closer, eager for the sensations.

  Slowly he pulled back away from her as much as he could- which wasn’t much, since he was backed up against the counter. His hand shifted from her neck to cup her cheek. She could hear his heart racing, practically taste the pulse hammering in his throat, eagerness and desire lying around them like a heavy, heady musk.

  “Ni, I don’t know if-“ he began to murmur, but she laid a finger against his lips to silence him.

  “Don’t think, Jon. Now is not the time for that.” She stepped back and let her hand fall, twining her fingers in his. That slight, crooked smile quirked his lips again, and she couldn’t help but answer it in kind as she drew him back out of the bathroom and into the bedroom. It took almost nothing to pull the already loose tie of the robe free so it fell open around her, the white fabric framing her smooth, olive skin. She pushed him onto the bed gently, reveling in the way his eyes devoured her, gliding over her subtle feminine curves. The robe slid slowly off her shoulders, slithering to the ground to leave her nude, her still damp black hair falling loose around her shoulders.

  Crawling onto the bed she straddled his chest with her back to him, catching the waistband of his boxers with her fingers and slowly pushing the undergarment down, leaning forward to push them as far down as possible. She shuddered as his hands caressed her hips, ass, and thighs, then muffled a startled, breathy mewl when she felt his tongue part her folds, already damp with desire. She didn’t look back, just closed her eyes and rested her cheek against his thigh as he tasted her, the tip of his tongue swirling circles around her clitoris before delving deep into her passage, as if he wouldn’t be content until he had explored every part of her.

  Ni felt something brush her cheek and she opened her eyes, a smile curling her lips when she saw his shaft bobbin close to her face, already swollen and eager. She curled her slim fingers around the girthy shaft, feeling the throbbing in the veins that heightened her senses, a predator sensing its prey. She rejoiced in it, and yet kept a firm hand on the instincts that prowled the primal areas of her mind. Delicately she ran her tongue up the heavy ridge on the underside, feeling him shudder under her, even her sharp ears barely catching his muffled groan. She felt him tense as she pressed her lips around the head and suckled, not too far gone in pleasure to forget what manner of creature he was dealing with.

  Expertly, she sank down on his shaft, carefully keeping her fangs at bay so he felt nothing but the press of her lips and the stroke of her tongue. He bucked involuntarily and she pressed her free hand against his hips to hold him, enjoying the control she was exerting in the situation even as his tongue delved back into her folds, driving her closer and closer to her peak. Surprise made her open her eyes when his shaft butted gently against the back of her throat, and yet she was still a few inches from his base. He was a fair bit large than other lovers she had before. Excitement sent another shiver through her body, tensing her over him. She relaxed her throat and drew him in farther, suckling slowly as she sank down on his shaft, enveloping him in the soft, tight confines of her throat, delighting in the heat and taste of him.

  Her nose brush against her groin as she managed to take all of him, almost overwhelming her with the scent of male musk, even so recently washed. It wasn’t a dirty smell, just the smell of him. Against she thought she caught the faintest hint of the sweet, floral smell from the jeep. Before she could tell if she was imagining or not, he did something with his tongue that made her back arched and she pulled off his shaft with a cry as her body shuddered in orgasm.

  Still riding the tails of her climax, she didn’t resist as he gently pushed her off of him and onto her back, climbing over her. She hitched her legs over his shoulders, and eager accomplice as the broad mushroom head of his shaft butted up against her lust soaked flower, pushing inexorably forward. She couldn’t keep her body from spasming around him, milking his shaft as he drove himself in, each thrust sinking him in a little deeper, carrying a little more for
ce. She curled her fingers in his sandy, curly hair as he arched over her, his hands hard on her hips. She bucked to meet each thrust, her moans mingling with his grunts and groans.

  She couldn’t quite tell if she ever really came down from the first climax, pushed straight back up the long wave and cascading into another and then another. She could feel him shaking from exertion, muscles rippling in his shoulders and back as he came so close himself. His thrusts became shorter and deeper, and then with a final push he hilted himself deeply inside her. Ni could feel every pulse as he emptied his seed into her, the heat warming her body, radiating up her spine. He sagged on top of her as her legs splayed lewdly out to the sides. She gently pulled him down against her, shivering as his body covered hers, so hot and so alive.

  Ni closed her eyes and let her head fall back, thumping gently against the wall. Despite the fact that she could feel dawn dragging at her bones and see the slowly lightening grey outside between the blinds, she was loath to move him. She basked in the heat for as long as she dared, then gently touched his shoulder. Immediately he shifted off of her, bringing another tired moan from her as his shaft slid from.

  “It’s almost dawn.” She murmured. He propped himself up on one elbow and glanced towards the front window. “The bathroom is windowless. I can go there.”

  “Just stay here.” He stood and stretched slightly, wincing when it shifted his wounds. She noticed spots of blood dotting the gauze and felt a faint flush of chagrin. She should have known better. He pulled the heavier curtain across the window. She watched curiously as he pulled the extra blanket out of the closet and draped it over the valance, shoving the two chairs from the table on either side, effectively blocking out any hint of sunlight.

  “Jon, I don’t think you want to sleep with a corpse.” She pointed out, sitting up. He turned back towards her, walking back over and sitting on the corner of the bed.