The Font (5 page)

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Authors: Tracy St. John

BOOK: The Font
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They shook themselves and attended to the remaining guard, locked in hand-to-hand combat with another cloaked vampire named Benjamin.  Moments later, the second guard’s head was severed too, his big, blocky body thumping to the wood flooring. 

All three conspirators stood silently, listening to the raucous sounds downstairs of the continued celebration.  There was no sign anyone had heard the fighting.

“You have confirmed the power of her blood,” Carlos said, staring over Elisha’s shoulder at the small form behind the bed’s drapery as he handed him a black cloak
like the ones he and Benjamin wore
.  It was not a question.


Go and open the window.  I will dress her and we will make our escape
.”  Elisha put the concealing garment on as he went to the armoire. 
While the other two opened the large window, he
pulled a sea-blue dress out.  He
hurried to the bed.  Keeping the curtain pulled enough to offer some concealment from his co-conspirators, he
started to shove the glazed-eyed Naya into
the gown
,
and then
checked himself.  He had much more strength than he was used to
.  H
e reminded himself to take care as he dressed her. 

Elisha
went back to the armoire and
found a
long,
warm coat
for
Naya
as well.  Heat and cold had no effect on him, but while stalking his meals Elisha had noted humans bundling up lately, especially at night. 
He was pleased to see the coat was black, which
would help to keep
the Font
invisible in the night.

Ballet-styled slippers went on her feet, and he lifted her insubstantial weight in his arms.  Did he detect a note of fear in her forest green eyes?  Could she actually have the ability to slip his control?

There was n
o time to worry with such things, but in case the woman was coming out of her trance, Elisha attempted to soothe her.  “Do as you’re told, and you won’t be harmed.”

It was probably a lie.  Naya was perhaps the greatest danger to vampire kind, making her life forfeit.  But he’d think about that later.  For now, escape before Heriolf discovered his precious Font had been taken was paramount.

Elisha carried her to his waiting co-conspirators.  “Let’s go.”

Like wraiths they flitted
out of the window
into the night, their path already cleared by their fellow rebels.

* * * *

The scent of fresh blood lay like a blanket over the hall.  Heriolf hadn’t bothered putting his victim under glamour, and she sobbed and screamed as he took her blood and his lustful pleasure with her helplessly bound body.   The sounds of her misery made the taste and feel of her that much more gratifying.  Demonstrating power, even over such a puny creature as this, was always a delight for the ancient warrior.  In over a millennium of existence, it had yet to pale.

             
The only thing that would have made it sweeter still was if it was Naya beneath him, begging him to stop as he drowned in her blood and sex.  That the night he would enjoy such profound bliss was far into the future, if it ever happened at all, made him more brutal to his present victim
.  H
er screams doubled. 

Naya would soon be his wife and he would have her body as well as her blood, but she had to be handled with care.  He
riolf
needed her compliance for as long as he could c
harm it from her.  There were
few of her kind left in the world, and he didn’t dare waste the power she gave him.  She had to be guarded carefully and treated with tenderness he was incapable of feeling. 

He could hold her prisoner and take what he wanted as he had others in the past.  But they had been quickly used up that way, committing suicide as soon as the opportunity presented itself.  None of the Old People’s blood had lasted more than five years once they fell into Heriolf’s hands. 

Except Naya.  He had made her think of him as a trusted guardian, her one and only friend in the whole world, the sole person who would keep her safe from all harm.

The woman beneath him had started a choked gurgling sound that told Heriolf she was closing in on her end.  He felt her pulse stagger as her heart lost its rhythm.  His scrotum drew up tight to his body as the feeling of her dying brought familiar heavy heat to his groin.  He was the master of death, bringing it upon any he wished.  The ultimate power. 

Another wheeze.  Her heart missed, picked up, missed again, and sluggishly beat once more.  Almost dead.  The pleasure in Heriolf’s lower parts coiled tight, on the verge of releasing that terrible, wonderful stream of passion.  Almost…

“My lord!”  One of his guard’s cry cut through the roar of impending climax.

Heriolf lifted his face from his meal’s throat and bared fangs at the wild-eyed vampire.  Another thrust and
he
would be there.  The tiniest waft of breath issued from the woman’s parted mouth.  Her next to last.  “Not now, damn you!”

He bent back to the savaged flesh of his victim and lapped the bit of blood left.  An almost silent sigh left her lax body, and it sent the stream of his fluids bursting free to fill her.  Heriolf arched back to roar his victory, noting the final tear running from the young woman’s eye.  One last twitch, and she was gone.

“The Font, my lord!  She has been taken!”

The guard insisted on shouting, and it took a moment for the words to penetrate Heriolf’s orgasm
-
and blood-muddled mind.  His cock was still convulsing when he finally understood the import of the other vampire’s words.

He pulled free of the corpse and staggered to his feet.  The guard reached out to steady him.  Heriolf stared at him, trying to deny the man’s irrational outburst.  “Not possible.  No.  I would feel it.”

He searched his own head for his sense of Naya.  He could feel her when she was near, the blood she gave him like an invisible path for him to follow.  Her recent presence still burned in the room, shining bright next to his vacant throne, trailing out through the door nearby.  He closed his eyes and continued up the stairs, down the second floor hall, to her room…

…where an awful emptiness waited.

The guard was frantic, as if still trying to make Heriolf understand.  “I saw them take her!  Three vampires with cloaks over their heads.  They flew to the south, too quickly for us to follow.
  Four of our number are dead.

Terror and fury chase back Heriolf’s drunkenness.  Wanting to kill someone, anyone, he yanked his clothing into place. 

He could start with the guard who’d brought him the news.  Shut that yapping mouth permanently.

Don’t panic.  I still have the powers Naya’s blood grants me.  I’ll maintain my supremacy over the others for what, five days?  Isn’t that what the fool in the swamp told me?  It’s enough time to find her and take her back.

And then he would kill to his black heart’s content.  He would kill in ways so heinous no one would ever dare to oppose him again.

He bellowed though the hall had gone completely silent.  His voice echoed through the room, and Heriolf found the smallest bit of gratification when everyone cringed.  “Guards!  Everyone to me.”  As
the surviving
five
members of his guard
and his new aide Lyndon surrounded him, Heriolf said, “The Font has been stolen.  Bar the doors and let no one leave.  I will have the final deaths of all who have brought this upon me!”

The guard
s
rushed to slam the doors of the hall shut, but Heriolf saw there were far
less
vampires there than at the start of the ceremony.  This was not the act of a few then.  This was an actual uprising against him.

“Anyone who dares to attempt escape will be staked
and burned
!”  To one guard who returned to his side,
Heriolf
muttered, “Bring me each person present, one at a time.  I will have their thoughts and discover who my enemies are.”

             
As the guard grabbed the first vampire he came to, dragging the startled woman to cower at Heriolf’s feet, Savannah’s
lord
vowed to himself that if every last vampire in his kingdom
had to
s
uffer
his final death, he would recover his Naya.

 

 

 

Chapter 3

 

Elisha flew through the night with a motionless Naya in his arms.  He held her close, knowing the chill of
the
season might affect her despite the coat she wore.
  His companions had gone in different directions, to protect their minds from the knowledge of where she would be kept prisoner until the next night.   If Heriolf caught them and read their minds, they would have no information he could use to track the Font.

             
Half an hour after leaving Heriolf’s mansion behind,
Elisha
sighted the abandoned
derelict
church
he was looking for.  H
e might have called
it
home had he done more than spend the dead daylight hours in his coffin there.  As he drifted down to it, the tang of pine from the nearby trees wafted to him.  They couldn’t cover the sweet scent of the woman he held.  He was eager to question her, to discover the secret of her blood.  Perhaps to
find out
why he’d gone against his nature and assaulted her with his lust.
  To learn how she could escape his glamour so easily.

             
The moment he landed she stirred, proving she had
yet again
shaken off the effects of the trance he’d put her under. 
Elisha tightened his hold on her, his booted feet soundless over the twigs and leaves that littered the ground.  Naya
craned her neck to look at their surroundings.

             
“This is a church,” she said, her eyes wide as he carried her to the old wooden structure.  Its once-pristine white paint had grayed with time and weather, peeling in leprous patches in many places to expose the even grayer wood. 

“Excellent observation,” Elisha said in his most discouraging tone.  He listened to the night, checking for sounds of pursuit.  All he discerned were the chorus of crickets, the sigh of the breeze through the pines, and the minute movements of small animals in the nearby woods.  Satisfied no one followed, he kicked open the door and carried her into the musty gloom.

Moonlight peered in through the cracks
and holes
in the ceiling, slightly illuminating the debris-strewn pews, altar, pulpit, and rotting carpet.  Elisha’s eyes saw it all perfectly well, but Naya seemed to be blind.

Only a slight tremor betrayed her fear.  “I thought
Heriolf was the only
vampire
powerful enough to t
read on holy ground.”


It has nothing to do with power. 
I’m an atheist.  I don’t believe in the Christian god, therefore it cannot harm me.”

He set Naya down on a clear bit of the frayed and water stained carpet.  She peered around, her eyes apparently adjusting to the dimness and allowing her to discern a little.

Elisha frowned.  It had been over
two
centur
ies
since he left his original life behind, but he was sure human eyes shouldn’t be able to see in this near blackness.  Yet Naya was walking down the center aisle, picking her way carefully around splintered boards and other tripping hazards. 

What was she?

Elisha
followed her closely though she showed no signs of making a run for it.  She asked, “
I
t makes sense
a vampire’s faith determines whether he can tread on holy ground

Heriolf worshipped pagan gods when he was alive, though he says he no longer believes in them.”


H
e hasn’t bought into the fiction concerning our kind.  But the fearful faith of most who serve him will keep them from coming in
, no matter his threats
.
  If he enters, it will be alone.

“He will destroy you on his own.
  He needs no one to help him.
” 
Naya’s
tone was matter-of-fact, as if disclosing a great and undeniable truth.

“He’ll have to catch me first.”

As if his words were a signal, Naya suddenly swerved around him, running for the door.  Elisha caught her up around the waist, lifting her off her feet and pinning her against his body.  She struggled mightily, but it was as if a rabbit fought a bear.  She was no match for his strength, her tiny fists drumming his shoulders with no more force than a torrent of rain.

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