Moonspawn (4 page)

There was only one exit, a pair of large ebony double doors set in one portion of the wall, the ornate handles and lock comprised of polished silver. Hooks in the walls supported rows of dressing gowns similar to hers, telling her that this place could cater to many more than just a singular visitor.

Kira herself was lying on a cushioned plinth, one of six placed around the pool, set back a few feet from the lymphatic waters. The raised slabs were all adorned with a padded surface, like massage tables, but in addition they were some sort of long cabinet, with drawers and cupboards beneath each.

Intrigued, she opened several of those below her, pawing through the towels, soaps, perfumes, and oils she found within. Clearly the top was to serve for the purposes of sensual recreation.

Sliding from the slab, she dropped her feet to the warm tiles and took a few faltering steps. Against the aromatic tides of the air she could more clearly smell her own unwashed flesh, and was tempted to immediately slide into the pool to cleanse herself. Crouching by the side she reached down and tested the waters, etching some circles and watching the ripples spread out across the surface. Was she dreaming still?

With a shout of shock she jumped back and onto the 30

plinth as the clues of movement rose again, strangely emanating straight from the pool. Two heads emerged slowly from the middle, the short hair of the women dark and flat upon their heads. Beneath these were silvery bands, the chokers fitted about their throats and seemingly without lock. Four rings were set around them, the one at the front being flanked by the symbol that adorned the ceiling, as well as another more detailed symbol, this being different for both women. Was it a personal identification?

Both were slender and gorgeous, their slim faces serene and passive as they stood up and started to walk forward.

Lithe of frame, like delicate models of the catwalk, their sublime breasts acted as prows, the waters reaching no higher as they paced forward.

The naked women drew close and then stopped before her, keeping their alluring pale eyes to Kira as she maintained an aghast expression. How had they been breathing down there? No bubbles from oxygen supplies had corrupted the surface, and they had been down there for ages. Were they even human?

‘Will you not come in and join us, miss?’ asked one of them.

‘We are here to attend you,’ added the other, their voices like silken purrs, enticing and hypnotic.

Kira paused, looking at the duo with worry, wondering what was going on. Would they drown her the moment she entered the waters? Should she run? Try to flee? Her paranoia ebbed as they lifted marble smooth arms from the waters, the hot fluids dripping in sparkling trails from their limbs as they extended welcoming hands and opened into inviting smiles.

‘Please, let us help you,’ said one of them, her soft 31

tones velvet in Kira’s ears. ‘Her majesty commanded it.’

‘Her majesty?’ quizzed Kira, closing her robe more tightly to her, feeling somehow inadequate compared to these sensual beauties of the waters.

‘The one who brought you here,’ replied one of the nymphs.

‘Our mistress,’ added her partner.

‘The Queen of the City,’ finished the first, running off the titles this mysterious woman was known by to her subjects.

Feeling more secure with this knowledge, Kira slid from the soft surface and back onto the tiles. Taking the belt of the robe, she started to unfasten it and then froze as she realised she was naked beneath. The women read her shame and smiled with amusement at such a display of shame.

‘No need to be bashful, miss,’ whispered one of them, the delicate voice a beguiling tune that lured her, as though these were sirens and she was powerless to resist their supernatural song. ‘Remove your robe and come in.’

Opening the soft sheet she dropped it behind her and stepped to the edge, trying not to look upon them, for to meet their eyes was to acknowledge her nakedness.

‘What is there to be ashamed of?’ asked one.

‘Come in and look at yourself,’ stated the other, indicating the floor of the pool, the surface being a huge polished mirror, shimmering with the refractions of the agitated waters pressing upon it.

Settling down, Kira sat on the lip and then flipped in, letting loose a sudden gasp of awe as the warmth flowed into her, the sweat and the grim sloughing away like an 32

unloved skin. Sinking down her head dropped beneath the waters, submerging her in full, and with a kick into the wall she launched herself forward. As a dart of motion she drilled through the halcyon sea, the waters streaming through her hair, peeling away her angst, soothing her very soul. It was such a simple pleasure, but never had she found one quite so profound.

As she flung her outstretched arms back to force herself onward, she opened her eyes and caught sight of her reflection. Immediately a cloud of silver bubbles burst from her lips and she hurled herself up, erupting from the surface with a yell.

‘What the hell!’ she exclaimed, kicking back to try and escape the sight, thinking that another person had been swimming beneath her, taking her by surprise with a parallel course.

Realisation dawned and she put hands to her face. It was still the one she recalled, but it had been changed. It was as though she’d been drained. Her features and body had been siphoned from within to reveal a new body beneath. She had never been really thin, but likewise she was not actually fat, yet somehow something had removed that last stubborn layer that helped hide a natural beauty beneath. Was this real? was this the creature that had been lurking beneath her skin all these years? Had she truly been such a delightful sight, just one hidden from view until now?

Dropping down she hung in the waters and stared across her naked loitering form with wide eyes, wondering if she had seen correctly. Perhaps the ebb and flow of the waters had tricked her like a fun house mirror, deceiving her eyes with a false vision.

Still she could not believe what her senses told her to 33

be true. She recognised every feature, every part of herself, but it had been drawn in, tightened, bringing out a salacious angel.

Breaking from the surface she turned to the women, her red hair limp about her features, the warmth running down her form, her breasts standing proud and firm, all excess weight removed.

‘What’s happened to me?’ she questioned with a mixture of elation and unequivocal terror. ‘What did this?’

The women started to pace towards her, having armed themselves with soap, sponges and other instruments to attend her needs, to further enhance her beauty.

‘Maleficence changes the body both inside and out,’

whispered one of the women.

‘Maleficence? What the hell is that? What’s going on?

What? Who was that woman? Is that this queen? How did she? I mean—’

Her words were ended when female lips reached forward and connected with hers. The kiss was soft, tempting, delicate and delicious. Her questions were blown away like loosed leaves in the arms of autumn and all thought and concern drooled from her mind.

The limbs of the woman encircled her and the lips parted, opening as the servant’s tongue solicited entry by running its tip along Kira’s lips.

Answering the call, Kira returned the exchange, their tongues emerging to lock together, to writhe against each and explore the cavern of each other’s mouths. The waters that still ran their features made the kiss glide and slip with their passion, while the other nymph chose to explain, running a cake of soap across Kira’s shoulders.

‘Maleficence. Or the Malefic Kiss, as others call it.

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Having a malignant influence, the doing of evil to another. It is what we have termed our transformation from fleeting life to eternal undeath.’ The lather made Kira shudder as more hands brushed her nipples, the other woman continuing her kiss while also applying herself to the cleansing of Kira’s front.

‘We have been reborn into the ranks of the Homo Nocturnus,’ continued the other female, applying a sponge and drawing circles across Kira’s back and onto her shoulders. ‘The Nosferatu. We are vampire. We live by night, we never die, we devote ourselves to pleasure and fulfilment.’

The nymph before her slipped a hand around the back of Kira’s neck, drawing her in close to make their kiss all the deeper as she started to work the soap across Kira’s body with her free hand.

Kira could do nothing save be consumed by the pleasure of being serviced thus. The distraught concern at such revelations of what she was failed to break the prurient mood.

‘Our queen is undisputed ruler of the city. She controls everything you have ever known, working from the secretive depths. This is her palace, we are her servants.

Our existence is unknown to almost every mortal. Only the privileged or damned knows of us. Our kind created the myths, turned them into Hollywood legend to hide ourselves further, to protect us. We give our enemies false weapons against us, portray ourselves as we wish, and make our very existence seem so incredulous that even when discovered, we are ignored.’

The woman ceded her place to the other, letting her continue the kiss, the two of them taking turns to taste of Kira’s lips. All the while they continued washing away 35

the dirt, running a brush through her hair as it was gently and methodically shampooed and then conditioned.

Once she had been cleansed they drew her to the side, leaning her against the edge of the pool. Kira locked her arms to the tiles, holding to the slick stone, her head drooping back as a tongue slithered into her sex, making her croak and gasp at the intensity of the pleasure, something she had not experienced since the dream.

But had it been a dream? The woman was real, she existed, and Kira had seen her with waking eyes and was now her guest. The visitation that had haunted her since its occurrence had been no product of her subconscious or imagination.

Razors drifted along her legs, the heat having coaxed the follicles forth, letting her be shaved smooth. The women tended her body, and then proceeded with a more intimate shearing of their charge. Kira stiffened and ensured she kept as still as she could, the worrying drift of the blade around her belly frightening her. She knew she did not really have to worry, for these women were expert in their skill, and not once was she even nicked.

It took a short while to dawn, but it soon became apparent that her beauticians were staying beneath the water for an inordinate amount of time. When they were shaving her legs they never once came up for air, and no bubbles emerged. Did they need to breathe? Was speech the only cause for them to draw breath?

The old saying of ‘live fast, die young and leave a good looking corpse’ made her giggle to herself, because now it had been indelibly set in a far different order: ‘die young, be a good looking corpse, live fast and forever’.

Was it true? Was she actually… dead – or rather, undead? She put a hand to her chest where she felt a 36

slow, almost non-existent heartbeat. Stopping her breath she held it, and found no effects of starvation. It was not easy to hold on and persevere with the experiment, for instinct and tradition were hard laws to break. She had been performing these biological processes for nineteen years, and the lingering memory made it tough to just quit. But even so, it was true: she didn’t need to. Her mind was numbed by the revelation. She had to be dreaming. She just had to be. Vampires didn’t exist, so she couldn’t possibly be one.

The women arose from the waters, steam slinking into the air from their soaked skin. Taking a wrist each they steered her to one of the poolside plinths. With graceful motions they slipped up and helped her from the waters, rubbing her with luxurious towels and then laying her face down on the pliant surface.

Oil was slipped across her skin, and Kira sighed contentedly as they began to massage her back and legs, working in unison, their hands soft and caring, their expertise sterling.

The mundane pampering began to take a new route once she had been rendered utterly limp beneath their hands.

Slender fingers opened her rear and a face slipped down, reaching under with a long eager tongue to tease her sex with calm and rhythmic attention. Kira closed her eyes, panting and clutching to the front of the slab, quaking on occasion from flares of bliss.

The other woman appeared before her eyes and lowered, settling onto her knees and without expression, moved forward to kiss Kira. Their lips met, and once more passion was set free, the woman stroking Kira’s hair, running manicured nails down her cheeks and across 37

her back. On occasion she would pause and offer up a breast to Kira’s ravenous mouth, letting her suckle and lap at the unblemished flesh before her.

Only once they had treated their charge to numerous orgasms did they stop, slowing their play, toning it down, bringing Kira slowly from such heady heights, considerate of her every need.

As Kira lay listless and weak, they gathered another robe and helped her into it.

‘What’s going to happen now?’ she asked, staring at the pool as it shuddered and flickered in the feeble light of the hall, her eyes so accustomed to it that it could have been the full glare of the sun.

‘You will be taken to an audience with our queen,’

replied one of the women.

‘What’s going to happen to me though?’ she asked, concerned as to what her fate was to be.

‘That all depends on what you want, miss.’

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A sole figure walked with hesitant sloth down the decrepit streets, eyes flitting from shadow to shadow, her senses piqued. The area had been deserted for many years, the buildings and warehouses left to rot until someone bothered to decide their fate.

The sheet of clouds scampered across the sky under a strong wind, affording fleeting glimpses of the heavenly vault beyond. Few streetlights were in operation, rendering the industrial ruins a belated and sinister realm.

Drawing her long coat closer she sniffed the breeze, catching the wafting scents that ruled the air – rot, decay, filth; the stink of pollution and the by-products of the factories, the sickly odours of the tramps who had populated this ideal dwelling ground and then moved on once their number had started to mysteriously disappear.