The Falling of Katja: an Erotic Romance (Anam Céile Chronicles) (5 page)

Excerpt
of
Soeis

Book II
of the

Anam
Céile Chronicles

T
he next evening, upon rising from her morbid slumber,
Zahrah found me and promptly said, “Come, we are going into town!”

“Thank
you, but I’ll remain here,” I said, as always I did when they went on their
frequent hunts fer victims. 

“I
was not
inquiring
as to whether or not you
wished
to accompany
us,” she informed me curtly.  “Now put on some decent attire so that we may
depart presently!”

I
did not conceal the scowl that came across me face at being ordered about and
forced to participate in something I did not wish to.

“What
is
your problem?” Zahrah asked me.  “Why do you insist upon preventing
yourself from delighting in the nature of what you truly are?  Do you not
realise that the beginning of your existence as a vampire is a time when all
your experiences are heightened, as I sense your lust is?  Never will you enjoy
it as much as you are able to now whilst still you are young.  Do not deprive
yourself, A-sleen!”

Still,
respond to her I did not.  I turned and walked away, and went to me chamber and
slipped into a fine lavender silk gown that complemented me hair nicely.

Pleased
Zahrah was with me appearance.  She had decided ‘twas time to train me as an
accomplice to their seductions of unwitting men.  “I shall take you under my
wing, as somebody should have from your initiation.  It shan’t be long until
you are precisely as I need you to be . . .”

Zahrah
led our expedition to the nearest town to find a suitable specimen fer me
initiation to their lifestyle.  She struts down the street, seemingly ignoring
every eye she turns.  Her head she carries so high, as a sculpture; her eyes
wicked as she stretches her long legs, slinking as a feline.  Men crouch at her
feet as she passes, begging fer her consideration.  Rather it was comical
actually.

 
Fools! 
You hope to make her see you?  Do you think you’ll be the one to make her queen
of yer world?  Fortunate you should consider yourself if she chooses to
overlook you!

“Now
A-sleen, observe and see how it is done,” Zahrah declared, when she had
selected our victim fer the evening.  Not that any other undeserving person
would have been better, but particularly dismayed I was at her choice.  A right
lovely young man he was, utterly innocent; he could not have been even eighteen
years of age.  And, as was to be expected, quite easily enthralled was he by
the three of us well-formed women. 

Into
our carriage he did climb without any hesitation, all wide-eyed.  By this time,
awful I felt fer what I knew was in store fer him.  Never before had I spent
even a few minutes of time getting acquainted with those I had fed from—
conversing with them and charming them, inspiring them to trust me, to like me,
to want me.  Dreadfully unethical it felt! 

Beside
me he did sit, his heart rate accelerating straightaway.  I smiled at him,
hoping the sympathy I felt fer him didn’t show through.  He took that as
encouragement and placed his hand upon me thigh.  I stiffened under his touch. 
Zahrah shot me a reprimanding, yet reinforcing look.  I knew she expected me to
play along.  Though, I did not know if I could.

He
leaned over and began kissing me upon the neck.  I did not respond, nor did I
stop him.  I only remained there, stationary while his inexperienced lips
fumbled their way about me neck.  Katja leaned forward and ran her hands up his
thighs, quickly reaching the bulge under his trousers.  His breathing quickened
as she stroked him through the material, sending bursts of warm breath upon me
skin.

Then
he bent his head lower and commenced with feverishly kissing the swells of me
cleavage as Katja opened his trousers and revealed his excited manhood,
gripping it expertly within her small hand.  Zahrah shot me a look then,
motioning fer me to touch him as well. 

What? 
I cannot!  Another man than me Donovan never have I touched!  Nor do I wish to!

Yet
I did, knowing better than to displease Zahrah.  I grasped it and he groaned. 
‘Twas warm . . . no, hot within me hand.  I noted Katja stroking it up and
down, so I mimicked her action.  As I took over the motion, she knelt down and
took him within her mouth.  Louder he did groan and suddenly grabbed me face,
covering me mouth with his, attempting to slice his tongue into me mouth. 

Trying
so hard I was to push down the urges that were rushing their way to the top! 
Instinctively, I stroked him firmer as he kissed me, feeling him thickening in
me hand.  So powerful I did feel!  Besides me desire threatening to overtake
me, the scent of his blood racing through his veins with his arousal was
calling to me. 

Katja
rose up and placed herself beside him upon the other side of the bench. 
Sensing movement, I glanced to see what she was doing and saw her removing her
bodice, freeing her breasts.  The boy turned his head then and upon seeing her
ample bared breasts gaped in astonishment.  Sweetly she smiled to him, touching
his head and gently guiding it to them.  He did not hesitate to draw her large
nipples into his mouth and suckle as an infant.

I
watched, partially intrigued and partially jealous, while continuing to stroke
him.  Zahrah looked at me, motioning fer me to do something I did not
understand.  I stared back at her in confusion.  Quickly she did become
exasperated with me and resorted to using words.

“Climb
astride him, A-sleen!” Zahrah ordered, her voice just a whisper.  I stared at
her stupidly, hoping she did not truly intend what it sounded as.  “Sit upon
his shaft!” Zahrah commanded again, more impatiently.

 I
shook me head in refusal.  Trying to coerce me, she shot me a harsh stare. 
However, waver I did not.  Again I shook me head, more vehemently this time, a
staunch expression of determination upon me face.

As I
knew where this all was leading fer him anyway, I made the decision to get it
over with— fer him as well as meself— and picked up his hand and brought his
wrist to me lips.  Still immersed in the physical pleasure Katja was
administering upon him, not a smidgeon of attention did he give to that which I
was doing.  Me lips brushed across his wrist as I deliberated.

This
is the first time ever I have killed someone against me own inclination.  So
young he is . . .  Yet his death is certain, regardless.  What he thought to be
an unbelievably lucky occasion with three beautiful women instead will show him
to his death.

Wishing
only to have this over with, I opened me mouth and sank me teeth through the
flesh of his wrist into the vein beneath that had been teasingly pulsing
against me lips.  ‘Twas then his eyes connected with mine.  They ripped away
from his lust filled gaze on Katja’s breast to shoot a look of shock at me, the
pain registering upon his face.

Into
his eyes I did gaze as I drank him, reading the fear there— as well as sensing
it— the flavor of it invading, altering the taste of his blood.  But I strove
to ignore it, concentrating instead upon the delectable taste of his young
blood going down me throat.

Katja
must have felt somewhat uneasy about it as well, fer with a pleading look to me
she whispered, “At least let us give him his full pleasure as never before he
has experienced . . .”

Nevertheless,
discerning ‘twas too late fer this boy to reap any more pleasure from her
efforts, she grabbed his head, guiding it back to her breast.  ‘Twas then I
first noticed the translucent white liquid flowing from them, and me curiosity
piqued.  A bit shocked I was to see sweet Katja in her role: luring him to his
death, offering her ample breasts fer the boy to suckle upon the whole time,
apparently as a means to soothe and distract him from the reality of his
imminent death.

However,
realization at what was taking place overrode his pleasure, and the fear
remained in his eyes as powerlessly he watched me drinking from him.  Seeing
his bewildered and pleading eyes, I could go on no longer. 

So
young he is!  No right have I to end his life this way!  I will not be the one
to do it!

I
broke me suction upon his flesh, and turned away from him, striving to halt me
bloodlust, to drive the thought of it from me mind. 

Zahrah
shot an angry glare at me.  “What are you doing, A-sleen?  Finish him!” 

Me
eyes closed tight with me strenuous effort as I ignored her.  Delay she did
not, the scent of the blood still flowing from the vein I had punctured calling
to her.  Zahrah lunged forward to his throat, flinging his head back and
sinking her teeth in recklessly.  Katja took his bleeding wrist to her lips and
delicately suckled the blood from it as he had suckled her.  Moments later, his
gasps choked off to silence.

Against
the side of the carriage wall I did hunch meself, me face turned away, striving
to hold me breath so that I wouldn’t smell his fresh blood.  Although I felt
awful fer his fate, relieved I was that at least ‘twas over and I could return
home and attempt to banish his face from me memory.  However, I knew unlikely
that was.

To
say that Zahrah was immensely displeased at this outcome of me initiating quest
would have been a severe understatement!  Grabbed me she did, spinning me
around.  “What is the matter with you,
ragazza
!” she screamed at me. 
“Why did you cease in the midst of it like that?” she demanded.  The wild look
in her eyes, the contempt in her tone, it frightened me.

Uttering
nothing in response, I shrunk from her into the velvet wall.  I just wanted her
to disappear from me.  Katja looked at me from the other side of the dead boy,
a mixture of concern and sympathy upon her face.

Fumed
at me lack of response, Zahrah slapped me hard, then grabbed me roughly by me
cheekbones, forcing me to look at her.  Her mouth ‘twas bathed in his blood,
colouring her teeth red, drops of it falling from her chin onto her cleavage. 
She looked absolutely revolting.  I gasped.

A
monster she is!
 

What
does that make me then?

“How
dare you interfere with
my
pleasure!” Zahrah hissed through her bloodstained
teeth at me.  “You will
never
do something as this again!”  Frozen I was
beneath her pointed fingers crushing into the bones through the flesh of me
face. 

“
Capisce
?” 
I tried to nod, but she held me face too tightly fer me to move. 

“Speak!”
she screeched.

“
Sì
,
Zahrah!” I managed to say, me face flaring with pain.

“You
would do well to understand something,
A-sleen
,” Zahrah pronounced me
name with a tone of condescension.  “When we hunt, it is
my
lead you
follow.  It is always
my
hunt you are so privileged to be joining,
not
yours.  Consider yourself fortunate to be
my
guest.  It is by
my
graciousness alone that
you
are permitted to feed, and
only
after
I have taken all the pleasure I desire from him.  Is this clear?”

Her
hold upon me face she released.  I nodded, and then quickly spoke me answer.  “
Sì
,
Zahrah.”

Zahrah
sat back, gloating in her satisfaction and smeared the blood across her face
with the back of her hand, which she promptly set about licking clean.

The
remainder of the jaunt back home ‘twas one of awkward silence, at least on me
part.

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R
osalind
S
carlett lives in Boulder, Colorado with
her loving and supportive husband, two rambunctious little boys, her beautiful
Great Dane, Isis and her proud bunny, Micah.  She holds degrees
in Psychology and Interior Design. Rosalind is zealously proud to be
of Celtic ancestry.

When not immersed in her writings,
Rosalind's passions are reading, listening to music, yoga, spiritual
exploration, organic gardening and living, riding horses, transforming ugly,
old houses to their former splendor, riding bicycles with her
family, hiking, mountains, lush evergreen forests, foggy mornings, falling
snow, feeding old bread to small critters and watching nature from her deck on
crisp evenings with a glass of wine.