by Maria Arnt
“Not in here.” He chuckled breathlessly and hurried past her. He stopped short just outside of the door. “Beatrice!” He seemed to have forgotten her.
She dipped into a low curtsy, then pulled herself back up with a self-conscious expression. Obviously, the response was automatic.
“We need to speak.” He grimaced.
“Go,” Beatrice replied quickly. “We can speak later.”
“Thank you,” he said darkly, and went to the training room without glancing back at Tanya.
She hesitated, likewise torn between consoling her friend and slaking her instincts.
“Go,” the older girl said again, softer. She smiled weakly. “You’ll both feel better.”
Tanya nodded, collecting herself. Seth had already disappeared into the training room, so she put on a burst of speed, kicking off the training room doorway to launch herself at him. He was ready for her, crouched low with his hands clenched like claws.
Tearing her out of the air mid-leap, he threw her on the ground and leaped after her. She rolled out of the way and into a high stance, preparing to dodge rather than stand her ground. It was a good choice, once righted Seth lashed out with a series of vicious swipes, and she found it much easier to retreat than try to redirect them.
He cornered her quickly this way, and she noticed he hadn’t been using as many kicks as he usually did. She began aiming her attacks at his legs with kicks of her own. He caught her heel, but she pushed off his grip and planted her hands on his shoulders to flip over and behind him, and again went on the retreat. This time Tanya was careful to use a circular Bagua path to avoid being trapped again.
Seth pulled back, mirroring her circle and watching for an opening. He seemed impatient, though, and eventually gave a cry and rushed her. She got a solid punch into his gut, but it seemed to barely register. He tackled her with his forward momentum, and they both rolled to the ground.
Eschewing all notions of style and finesse, Tanya lashed out with everything she had. Seth got one hand around her neck, and she kneed him hard in the groin. They fought like animals, no longer pretending to be human.
It ended, as usual, with Tanya pinned beneath him, this time with her hands above her head. His face was close to her neck in a clear show of dominance, and he actually growled.
Her body made a hard shift from fight to fuck without warning. “Bedroom,” she gasped.
“Yes,” he agreed, and standing quickly, he pulled her to her feet. But then he just stood there. “Ladies first,” he said in a dangerous voice.
He wants to chase me, she realized, a shiver running down her spine. Like prey. And she wanted him to. She ran.
Seth caught her just as she got his door open. He pushed them through and slammed it behind, picking her up and practically throwing her onto the bed. He didn’t ask this time, and frankly, she didn’t want him to. She was already pulling her pajama top off as he approached the bed, and he made quick work of her shorts and panties as soon as he got there.
He ran a hand down her naked body, and he found that she was already wet from the excitement of the fight. He pushed in two fingers without hesitation, working her already sensitive clit with his thumb as well. She arched up hard, throwing a leg over his shoulder for leverage. It was a strange rush, being naked and vulnerable in front of him while he stood next to the bed still fully clothed.
“Why aren’t you naked?” she demanded, gasping.
He chuckled, equally breathless. “Good question.” He released her to undo the top buttons of his shirt, pulling it over his head along with the undershirt. Tanya took her opportunity to scramble back farther along the bed, and as soon as he had his pants off, he crawled after her, still predatory.
Catching her again, Seth pinned her arms above her head once more and entered her immediately. She cried out, but not in pain, and wrapped her legs tightly around his waist, drawing him in deeper. Within moments she was crashing over her climax, and it just didn’t stop.
It was short, rough, and feral, just as the fight had been. It was perfect.
Seth collapsed next to Tatiana, still breathing hard. Gods above and below, she is perfect, he mused. She looked utterly destroyed, spread-eagled and spent, her skin sweat-slicked and her chest heaving for breath. Turning on his side, he brushed a few errant curls off her damp forehead.
“Tatiana, I—”
“Don’t apologize,” she interrupted peevishly. “You’ll ruin it.”
Seth raised his eyebrow. He wasn’t planning on apologizing. In fact, he had a personal policy against apologizing for his actions, but she made him curious. “Ruin what?”
She gave a limp gesture. “This. I feel like... we’ve been honest about it for the first time.”
He smiled, perplexed. “Are you saying you like me in a temper?” he teased.
She gave a short bark of laughter and turned on her side to face him. “Not when it’s directed at me! I thought you were going to kill Beatrice before I realized you were on the phone. Oh my god, Beatrice!” Tatiana sat up.
“What about her?” Seth trailed his fingers down her back, tracing a mark he had left, watching as it slowly healed and disappeared.
She shuddered, and when she turned, he could see the flush of her cheeks from their exertions was deepened by embarrassment. “She had to have heard us,” she whispered, mortified.
Seth laughed. “Well, yes.”
“Oh god, I’ve never done the walk of shame before.” Tatiana groaned, gathering up her pajamas.
“I believe she is in her room with the door closed, so you won’t have witnesses. If you could collect her on your way back down, though, I would appreciate it. We need to discuss her Master.”
Tatiana sighed. “Yeah.”
Before she could leave, though, he wrapped his arms around her waist, holding her in place a moment longer. “Thank you, Tanya. You have no idea how much I needed that.”
“Which part?” she asked. She didn’t resist his hold and even ran her fingers through his hair once.
“All of it.”
She chuckled and then got up to dress. “Hey what was that fighting style? It looked wicked awesome.”
He rolled onto his back, watching her wriggle enticingly back into her skimpy pajamas. “The Tiger.”
“I want to learn that one next!” she exclaimed.
He sighed. She didn’t mean to be impudent, he knew. “The Tiger relies on brute force. You’re better suited to Crane, or maybe Snake.”
“You’re no fun,” she complained, and stuck out her tongue before leaving on somewhat unsteady legs.
Now, that she did mean, but he was too high on her passion to make any protest.
Tanya had cleaned herself up, changed clothes, brushed her hair, and even tidied her room a little in the hopes that Beatrice would come out of her room on her own. But when she checked for the third time, the door next to hers was still shut.
Sighing, she knocked at the door. There was a moment’s pause, and then she could hear Beatrice moving to the door. She opened it, looking cheerful but a little out of it.
“Feel better?” she asked genuinely.
Tanya could tell she wasn’t trying to tease, but her face heated up anyway. “I-I’m sorry,” she laughed awkwardly.
Beatrice put a hand on her arm to stop her. “There’s no shame in it, Tanya,” she gently reassured her.
Tanya blinked rapidly. “There’s not?”
“No, dear! Trust me.” She set the small book she had obviously been reading on a table beside the door and turned off the light in her room. “Whatever morals you were taught to live by were almost certainly predicated on Free Will, which you have in regrettably short supply right now. Like a child, you can’t help but do whatever your body demands of you. Sin has to be a choice, and you certainly didn’t choose this existence.”
Tanya had to agree. Maybe she was just feeling guilty because she enjoyed it so much. “Okay, but Seth...”
“Is also driven by i
nstinct where you are concerned. The question of his initial choice to turn you is a valid one, but after that point, his actions largely follow an ingrained pattern.” As they made her way down the stairs, Seth came out of the kitchen stirring a freshly brewed mug of tea. He and Beatrice smiled at each other like old friends.
“I see you found some calm as well.” He gestured to the leather couch in the open living room and settled in one of the chairs.
“Prayer,” explained Beatrice. “Always does the trick.”
He nodded, which surprised Tanya. “You pray?” she snorted.
Seth raised his eyebrows, watching her take a seat opposite him as he sipped his tea. “I do. Frequently. Not in the same fashion, or to the same deity as Beatrice, but the effect is much the same. It’s not unlike a very focused meditation, but that’s cheapening it a bit.”
“Huh. Who do you pray to?” It seemed inconsistent with his delusion of godhood.
For some reason, he would not meet her eyes. “Nephthys.”
That shut her up.
Fortunately, Beatrice stepped back into the conversation. “I take it my pedigree has been mistold somewhere along the line, then? You’re not the third son of Adam and Eve?”
Seth grinned. “Ah, that old yarn. No, I’m not quite so old as that. Nor was Lilith, your great-grand-sire, the first wife of Adam. She wasn’t even my first wife,” he chuckled sarcastically. “She was a Babylonian priestess from the early Amorite dynasty and my first truly successful Scion. She was a bastion of political power—she practically invented the pyramid scheme—and loved to paint herself into any given culture’s mythology. Old-testament Apocrypha was a good fit for her though, ‘mother of six thousand demons’ and all that. I don’t fit as easily, and have to fill three roles,” he joked.
Tanya didn’t want to let on that she had no idea what they were talking about. “Maybe she’s the mastermind behind our population problem?” she suggested.
Beatrice shook her head. “Mistress Lillith was burned at the stake in 1274.”
“Really? I mean, I know you can kill a vampire with enough fire, but couldn’t she just escape?” Her single attempt at slaying-by-fire had ended with running from a flaming vampire.
“She didn’t think it would kill her,” Seth said darkly. “But you may have a point, Tanya. Lilith is gone, but she had many, many offspring. A good half of vampires today can trace their lineage to me through her. It wouldn’t surprise me if one of her more talented proteges is behind this. She would have seen it as too dangerous, of course, she was always careful.”
“Except for letting herself get burned at the stake?” Tanya asked, incredulous.
Seth shrugged. “She thought she was more powerful than me, by then.”
“How many siblings do you have, Beatrice? Michael certainly seems crazy enough,” Tanya mused.
She blinked rapidly. “Half a dozen? Or I suppose five, since Smythe. And as many have emancipated in my time. Many others died. But I don’t keep close tabs,” she admitted.
“No, Michael is too busy indulging his perversions to have time for such an endeavor. But Rothbury, his Master, is much more the type,” Seth mused.
Beatrice visibly shuddered.
“You’ve met him then?” Seth guessed.
“Only once. When Master Michael was forced out of Europe, I was still much too young to survive an Atlantic sea voyage, and I was officially put under Master Rothbury’s care. I can’t imagine what he looked like when he was human.” She shuddered again.
“He was quite handsome, once. Someone tried to kill him by drowning him in acid,” Seth explained.
“Why didn’t he heal, if he survived?” Tanya was curious.
“He didn’t want to. Said his new features suited him better.”
Beatrice sighed. “And such is my lineage.”
“Which leads us back to the subject at hand,” Seth sighed. “Either Michael doesn’t believe I am who I say I am, or I’m afraid he’s gone rather off the deep end. I had planned to end the conversation long before you woke, Tanya, but he wouldn’t see sense.”
“Yeah, I don’t think the whole miasma of power thing works over the phone,” Tanya chuckled nervously, “or he would have wet himself.”
Seth frowned at her, but it was unclear if he disliked her teasing, her crude remark, or both.
“Thank you, by the way,” Beatrice turned to Tanya, “for coming to my aid, even if I didn’t need it. It was very kind of you. Foolhardy, but kind.”
“Pshaw,” Tanya flapped a hand dismissively. “Any excuse for a fight, I’m there. So what are we gonna do about Mad Mike?”
Beatrice gaped at the irreverent nickname, and Seth shook his head, smiling wryly.
“Nothing, for now. This place is well concealed and fortified. I will accompany you when you go out to feed. Perhaps we can make an outing of it.” He glanced between the girls, though neither looked happy about his suggestion. “No?”
“I would rather appreciate an escort to Mass,” Beatrice pleaded. “I try to avoid feeding as much as possible.”
Seth slid a hand over his face. “Not you, too. Let me guess, you’re a True Believer?”
Beatrice nodded solemnly.
“What’s a True Believer?” Tanya asked. Beatrice had mentioned something last night about being able to prolong the time between feedings, but if Seth knew about it....
He sighed heavily. “There are some vampires who are also truly devout Catholics. Usually, they are lapsed at the time of their turning, or convert sometime after, as becoming a vampire is, I am fairly certain, a mortal sin?” He glanced at Beatrice.
“As with all mortal sin, it would be if the changeling knew precisely what the change entailed, knew that it was wrong, and willingly chose to do it anyway,” Beatrice recited.
Seth nodded. “Among these faithful who endeavor to avoid the sins of the flesh, as much as their bodies will allow, there are a select few known as True Believers. Because of their faith, the Eucharist is enough to sustain them, sometimes for years at a time, without ever feeding from a human.”
Tanya’s eyes widened. “Where do I sign up?” She laughed.
Seth shook his head, and Beatrice smiled apologetically. “You would have to believe with every fiber of your heart, mind, and soul that the Eucharist is fully transformed into the body and blood of Christ,” she explained. “Even then, there’s no guarantee. I don’t know why God has chosen to bless me,” she shrugged.
“Aside from that, Tatiana, you must remain always in a state of grace and commit no mortal sins. Including breaking the fifth commandment: Thou Shalt Not Kill.” Seth added darkly.
Tanya frowned. “Yeah, but that’s murder. Surely justified killing doesn’t—” she stopped at Beatrice’s horrified expression.
“It’s never justified, Tanya!” she exclaimed. “Not unless you’re defending the life of someone else like you did for me.”
“But vampires—”
“Have souls! Surely you felt that when you drained Smythe?” Beatrice seemed close to tears.
Seth and Tanya glanced at each other, suddenly uncomfortable. “Yes,” Tanya said quietly. “I did.”
After a moment of heavy silence, Seth shifted in his seat. “I will contact a few friends of mine, see if I can find you a trustworthy companion to escort you to Mass,” he reassured Beatrice. “However, while Tanya and I are gone it would probably best if you stay here. We should be back early Saturday morning.”
Beatrice nodded, composing herself. “Thank you, Master Seth. I truly appreciate everything you’re doing for me.”
25
Tanya blinked her eyes slowly open, and the first thing she saw above her was Seth’s face, smiling. For a moment, dazed, she smiled back. Then she scrunched up her nose.
“Were you watching me sleep?” She moved away from him, sitting up.
“Well, yes,” he answered frankly, “but with purpose, I assure you. You said you wanted to leave as soon as possible, so I have
already done most of your makeup while you were sleeping.”
She paused, having almost rubbed her eyes. Instead, she slid off the shabby motel bed—no way she was sleeping under those covers—and padded over to the mirror.
Her reflection was unsettling and surreal. She had worn this face for twenty-three years, but now, after only a few short months of perfection, it was like looking at a stranger. She frowned, first at how unattractive she found herself, and then deeper in disappointment at her own shallowness. Her perfection had come at much too high a cost, she reminded herself.
“Is something amiss? I haven’t done your lips yet.” Seth picked up his makeup box from the bed and set it on the small dresser below the mirror.
“No, it’s fine.” She tried not to sound sullen. “What should I say about my hair and eyes?”
“You dyed your hair. As for the eyes,” he rummaged in the box, bringing out a small contact case and handed it to her.
She frowned once it was open. “They’re clear.”
“Yes, but with them in you can blame the change of color on them. I know you’ve never worn contacts, and now is not the time to teach you.” He took the case back from her and tilted her chin up so she faced the light fully. “Hold still, darling.”
Tanya sighed and resisted the urge to punch him. The sensation of having her eyes pried open and a cold, wet lens tapped onto them was unsettling, but something instinctual in her trusted him enough not to flinch.
“Okay,” she blinked a few times, getting used to the strange feeling. “Do my lips so I can go.”
“About that,” he murmured as he put away the contacts and then started rolling up one of his sleeves. “I thought you might like to eat before you left,” he offered his wrist.
She backed away, putting her hands up. “Nooooo thank you,” she laughed nervously. She did not want to go back to fawning over him.
“Not much, just a few sips. It will ensure that you won’t feel even the slightest urge to feed on your parents.” His voice was cheerful, but in it, she recognized the skillful manipulation. Her mother would be proud.
Taking a deep breath, she sat on the edge of the bed. It would be truly horrifying to feel the increasingly familiar attraction to humans and their blood towards her own parents. Even when she had recently fed, she often found her interactions with mortals tainted by a sort of curiosity as to what they might taste like.