Authors: A.C. Warneke
No, it wasn’t a dream. There were too many other people there, too many vamps. The fools were laughing and moaning in pleasure as vampires grabbed them and surrounded them with their cold, pale bodies. The two men she had noticed just stood there, watching the proceedings, stoic expressions on their too handsome faces, in their too brilliant eyes; eyes that were alive. The man with diamonds was watching her, the odd expression morphing into one of bafflement as he watched the creature that held her. It was almost comical how Diamonds frowned but it wasn’t a dream; it wasn’t funny.
The hot breath teased her skin and her eyes slid close. His tongue moved along her vein just before she felt the points of the creature’s teeth. Swallowing hard, her body tightened in anticipation of the pain. His teeth pierced her skin and any pain was quickly replaced with intense pleasure, the likes of which she had never experienced before. As bliss ripped through her body, she arched her back, unable to bare it. Her mind fell and she wondered briefly why she had ever fought this. Then she wondered nothing at all as ecstasy consumed her, body and soul.
It didn’t matter that this creature, this hot-blooded vampire, was going to drink her dry; it didn’t matter that she promised to always fight; it didn’t matter that she was going to leave behind an almost six-year-old son. The only thing that did matter was this… sensation; being devoured by darkness and passion.
Her body was weakening; too much pleasure, not enough blood. Her toes tingled, her fingers tingled; everything tingled, as her life was being drained. A low, rapturous moan came from deep inside of her. Somewhere within the dark recesses of her mind, she registered the long, hard arousal of the god holding her, drinking her. Sex was nothing like this; mere shadow play compared to the richness of Death.
The hand on her stomach tightened, pulling her closer; taking her into his body. Heat burned her from within, from without. She was going to melt into him and cease to exist on her own. From far away there were voices yelling, muffled by the pounding in her head. She didn’t understand the words, but it didn’t matter; she was where she was meant to be.
But then the heat was gone; the arm, the body, all gone, and she was falling. Falling out of him. Her feet touched the ground but her legs no longer had any bones and she continued to fall forward. Painfully, her knees hit the floor and she kept falling. Instinctively, she put her hands out to break her fall and her palms slammed against the hard floor. Bolts of pain shot up her arms, jolting her brain from its dream-like state. With the last of her strength, she pushed herself onto her back, needing to see the creature that nearly destroyed her.
Brilliant green eyes met hers; familiar green eyes set in a devastating face of angles and planes, of sheer male beauty. Long, black hair fell to his shoulders, emphasizing the harsh splendor of his chiseled face. And his lips – good God his lips! Lush, wicked, even with her blood staining them. She watched helplessly as he touched the glistening crimson with the tip of his long, elegant finger; as he slid the finger into his mouth and closed his eyes in ecstasy. In that moment, she knew that it was the man who had been haunting her dreams since she was a teenager and he was real. She had been dreaming about a fucking vampire!
No, vampires were cold. Dead. This man was vividly alive; what was he?
Her neck became unable to support the weight of her head, and she started to fall the rest of the way to the ground. Two men – two vamps – were standing on either side of the green-eyed man of her dreams, one was Diamonds and the other was one with auburn hair. They were talking to him, their movements agitated as they yelled words that made no sense. But he didn’t move; he just continued to stand there, staring down at Mal. Each man – each vamp – grabbed an arm, pulling him away from her, still talking to him.
Mal and the man continued to stare at one another as he was dragged away and she was losing consciousness. As the last remnant of awareness slipped away, a tear slid down her cheek. She was betrayed by her own body and she was willing to let everything go for just one more moment of deadly bliss.
And with that disgustingly depressing thought, everything faded away and Malorie sank into nothingness.
Chapter 2
“
I can’t do this.”
“
Yes, you can, Jack,” she stood before him as they prepared to enter the supposedly abandoned warehouse, a known haven for vampires. It was Jack’s first mission since joining her father and he was understandably nervous. “You’ve been trained and you have natural ability; you took out four vampires on your own.”
He smiled up at her, his brown eyes warm, “You’ll stay by my side?”
“
Of course.” Holding out her hand, she helped him to his feet. “We’re partners.”
“
Until the end?”
“
Until the end.”
A hollow voice spoke over the intercom, “Code red in progress, all necessary personnel to the vamp ward, stat.”
Malorie could hear the world around her but she was having a difficult time getting her eyes to open. Her head ached in rhythm to the beat of her heart and her limbs felt as if they were lined with lead. Somewhere in the very back of her mind she knew that it was necessary to move, to… escape, though she couldn’t remember from what she was supposed to be running. And when she tried to move, her stomach lurched and everything ached. If she just lay still, it was almost tolerable. It was probably a better idea to leave her eyes shut for a while longer, just until the queasy sensation passed.
Her mind drifted back to the days they were living in an old hotel in the middle of some forgotten town that had three bars and not much else….
The men were out blowing off some steam from a major victory and she was heading to the kitchens for a glass of orange juice, happy to have some peace for a change. She froze outside of the door when she heard the schick-schick of her father sharpening his sword.
Dread filled her stomach at the thought of having to face her father after he had caught her spying on Jack bathing the previous morning. She had been so fascinated when she realized the door to the bathroom was opened a crack and she could see Jack taking off his cloths. She knew she should have looked away but Jack’s body had riveted her with its maleness; his long, lean muscles and the dangly bits in front.
His penis. She was sixteen, almost seventeen; she could at least call it what it was.
But then her father had appeared, a single eyebrow arched amusingly as he looked at her. “Enjoying the display?”
Her face had gone up in flames and she had run, avoiding both of them for the day.
Taking a breath, mentally preparing herself to encounter her father, she was stopped by the familiar sound of Jack’s voice. “Why don’t you go into town with the others?”
“
It’s too risky,” Gus answered simply, not breaking the rhythm of his sharpening.
“
You mean, like diseases?”
There was a slight pause before Gus replied, “I’m more concerned about accidental pregnancies.”
“
You could use a condom.”
“
Have you ever had sex with a condom?” Gus huffed a breath.
“
Um,” Jack cleared his throat with embarrassment, “I’ve never had sex.”
“
I see.” Gus contemplated his next words before he spoke, “A condom is okay for casual sex but it’s like fucking a rubber doll. Besides, I have a hand; it’s not as good as being with a woman but there aren’t any complications.”
The two males chuckled over that while Mal’s cheeks burned; she didn’t want to know that much about her father. She was about to turn away, not wanting to hear anymore, when Gus asked, “Why don’t you go?”
“
I think it’s obvious.”
“
Enlighten me.”
“
I’m in love with your daughter.”
The blood rushed from her head and Mal had to grab onto the wall to keep herself upright. She held her breath waiting for her father’s response but there was a long, long silence before he spoke. “At least wait until she’s eighteen.”
“
Yes, sir,” Jack answered respectfully, a trace of excitement in his voice.
Malorie’s heart pounded erratically in her chest, in joy and in fear. If she had Jack, maybe she wouldn’t keep dreaming about a vampire and the things he did to her, the things he made her feel. If she had Jack, she would be safe.
Thinking about Jack broke her heart because she loved him for the wrong reasons and he had been taken from her. He always told her he would never desire a vampire like he desired her; there was no comparison.
She had scoffed at that, “Vampires are almost plastic in their appearance, Jack; they are not all that attractive. In fact, they look like deadly mannequin.”
“
They are exquisite, Mal,” he whispered in her ear, playing with the button on her shirt as they enjoyed a rare moment to themselves beneath the golden sun. “With their porcelain skin…”
“
Waxy, embalmed flesh.” A slight smile playing at her lips as she kept her eyes closed. The tension was melting from her muscles and she felt so tranquil.
“
And their seductive charm,” he continued, ignoring her comment, his fingers finding the warm skin of her ribs. “If they weren’t monsters, they’d be irresistible. And the closer one gets, the more… magnificent they become.”
“
The closer I get a vampire, the worse it looks.” She was enjoying the feel of his hands on her skin. He was real, not a fantasy. Arching her back, she silently encouraged his exploration and he didn’t disappoint. His hand slid over her breast and her nipple hardened in expectation. “It’s as if its soul is rotting even as its body lives on after death. At least, that is how father and I see them.”
“
I would love to see them the way you do,” he breathed, his lips pressing gentle kisses along her neck as his fingers squeezed her breast before returning to her buttons.
“
And I wish I could see them like you.” A sigh escaped as he finished opening her blouse. She felt him shift, twisting so he could look down at her. Tentatively, his fingers moved over the jagged scars and horror filled his voice, “My God, Mal; what the fuck happened to you?”
Flinching, she jumped up and ran, not wanting to see the revulsion in his eyes.
Malorie sluggishly moved her hand to her stomach, ignoring the sorrow that filled her when she thought about Jack. Her body was weak and she was in danger and she needed to figure out what the situation was and come up with a plan. Clearing her head, she listened to her surroundings, the sounds familiar but wrong.
Why couldn’t she open her eyes? Why couldn’t she move? God, everything hurt; it hurt to think, to try to remember what happened. It wasn’t good to be immobilized; a neutralized soldier was a dead soldier. She frowned (and winced): the war was over; there was peace now and the vampires were abiding by the laws. Was the truce over all ready? Was she going to have to move again?
Around her voices chatted animatedly, breathlessly, and it took her a moment to understand what they were saying. Disgust and fear washed over her as each fool tried to convince the others that they were bit by an seasoned vamp and not a newbie; as they bemoaned the fact that no one had been marked for tracking or conversion. Laughter followed and Mal tried to cringe but it hurt too much. Only fools wished to be bitten, it didn’t matter if it was the more discerning seasoned vamp or the always hungry new vampire.
And even if vampires were unnaturally beautiful, why would anyone want to be with one? After all, they were dead; it would just be sex with a corpse. Necrophilia. She also knew their true nature; they weren’t tormented souls in need of salvation; all vamps lived for the chase, the seduction; the hunt, the kill. They may pretend to be benevolent but it was just an act.
But why would any of her fellow warriors be talking about vamp bites in such glowing language? The only time they discussed vamp bites was during the war, when they were tallying the dead and wounded; when they searched every biting victim for a vamp’s mark. Marked fighters were quarantined until the mark wore off, for their own protection. The vamp would use the mark to find them and destroy anyone they were with. Why would anyone want to be marked?
Her throat was dry, parched and she just wanted to fall back into unconsciousness. Whatever was happening, her father would know what to do; he always knew what to do. Ever since she was a little girl with her first sword, he had kept her safe. Even in the midst of the worst of the wars, he had kept her safe, telling her that they would never find her, never get her. He said that eventually the bastards would all be dead and she would be free.
She drifted in and out of consciousness, loosing track of time as her thoughts wandered, as memories began to return: a man from her dreams, a group of vamp-wannabes, a group of vamps.