Until Death Do Us Part

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Until Death Do Us Part Page 3

by Lynda Hilburn

forcefully in my chest I could actually hear it, so I knew the vampires, with their exceptional hearing, would pick up every syncopated beat. And, of course, there was that smelling-my-fear thing. I had a ludicrous thought about finding a deodorant that would be strong enough to fool the undead.

  Eau De Corpse?

  Oddly, the moment they sat facing each other, their auras calmed and their muscles relaxed. Yvonne stopped fisting her hands and Falcon’s fangs retracted.

  Whew. I thought we were in for a blood bath.

  I stood next to them, and spoke softly. “Yvonne, would you please look into Falcon’s eyes and tell him how you feel when you’re worried about his whereabouts?”

  She opened her mouth, then closed it again, staring at his now-innocent-looking face. She rested a hand over her large breasts and turned her face to me. “Well, I do worry about him. We’ve been together for a very long time. No matter what else happens, we’re still blood-linked.”

  “Yvonne, tell him directly.”

  “What for?” She pouted. “He heard me well enough.”

  “He certainly did.” I smiled at her. “But this exercise is most effective if you allow yourselves to create intimacy – to build healthy communication. So, please. Look into his eyes and tell him how it feels to worry about him.”

  She sighed dramatically and met his eyes. “I’m afraid you’ll do something stupid and someone will put a stake through that unfaithful heart of yours. Then where would I be? I’d be linked for eternity to a pile of ash.”

  Falcon frowned and slid his gaze to me. “This is the warm-fuzzy exercise? Is it my turn yet?”

  Crap.

  “One moment, Falcon. Yvonne, see if you can go deeper into your emotions. Allow yourself to get in touch with the feelings you had when you first met Falcon. What was that like?”

  A dreamy expression softened her face and she smiled. “Ah, yes. I remember it well. He was such a beautiful male specimen . . .”

  “Tell him, Yvonne.”

  She connected with Falcon’s eyes and leaned forward. “I’d gone to a theater performance with my sire and was dazzled by your small role in the play. I knew right then I had to have you. It was truly lust at first sight. And you were just as taken with me; I could sense it. Despite being human, you were a wonderful lover.”

  Falcon grinned, “Were?”

  She batted her eyelashes. “Are.”

  Okay. This is good. About damn time.

  “Falcon, tell Yvonne what was it like for you when you met her.”

  He leaned toward her. “I came off the stage that night and saw the most gorgeous female I’d ever laid eyes on. Whatever you had, I wanted some of it. Discovering you were a vampire was immortal icing on a delicious cake, to use human terms. I talked you into bringing me over, blood linking with me, and the rest is history. I’ll never leave you. And I’ll never betray you.”

  And the Oscar goes to . . .

  They sat, smiling at each other, then Yvonne reached across and smoothed her hand down Falcon’s cheek. “You swear you aren’t boinking humans and drinking them dry?”

  Feigning shock, he raised his hands, as if to ward off her words. He stuttered. “I . . . I can’t believe you’d even think such a thing. I am completely faithful to you, and I’d never get carried away enough to kill a meal. What would make you even ask?”

  The evil grin was back. Yvonne reached out, snake fast, and grabbed Falcon’s wrists, holding them in her iron grip. I wasn’t sure exactly how much older than Falcon she was, but it was a significant number of years, and vampires get stronger with age. His charming mask slipped, and fear shadowed his face.

  She licked her lips, pulling him close. “You’re just a cheating, lying peacock, addicted to the fluids of sluts, harlots and whores.”

  Falcon shook his head vigorously, his frown lines on his forehead so deep his eyebrows almost touched. “No, no, you’re wrong. I haven’t done anything. I don’t know what you heard, but I’m innocent. I’m faithful to you. I haven’t killed anyone in . . . well, at least twenty, er, ten years. I have plenty of blood donors. You know that because you arranged them yourself.”

  Things were definitely getting out of hand. I circled them, speaking loudly but calmly, saying everything I could think of to bring Yvonne back to her senses – such as they were – but I might as well have been invisible for all the notice they paid me.

  This is bad. This is really bad. I’m not charging enough for this shit.

  Yvonne smiled, then moving faster than I could see, stuck her fangs savagely into Falcon’s neck. She sucked for a few seconds, then lifted her mouth, licking her lips again. But she’d created such a vacuum with her sucking that, when she removed her mouth, blood arced from the ravaged holes, spraying all three of us, as well as the furniture. She repeated the suck-and-lick pattern a couple more times– a bloodsucking praying mantis feasting on her bug, saturating everything with the bright red liquid. He screamed, struggling to free himself from her rigid embrace. The two of them tipped backwards in the chair, and landed on the rug with a heavy thud. The fall disengaged her fangs from his neck, but the wounds continued to flow freely.

  I gasped and looked down at the blood splattered on my light blue suit. In the time it took me to shift my attention to my soiled attire, Yvonne had wrestled Falcon flat onto his back and was sitting on his chest, her purple dress hiked up around her hips, restraining his arms over his head. Red glistened everywhere.

  My mind spun. We’d never covered anything like this in grad school. I knew I should do something, but my brain had put out the “do not disturb” sign and gone on sabbatical. I considered kneeling down next to them, and launching into another therapy spiel, but there was so much flailing and yelling going on, my words would’ve been lost in the maelstrom. And, even though Devereux had promised to execute any vampire who harmed me, I knew better than to trust the self-control of frenzied blood drinkers.

  “Your blood tastes of fear, my well-endowed cocksman.” Yvonne grinned maniacally. “And I know why.”

  Falcon twisted and squirmed beneath her, making a completely futile effort to escape. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.” He sounded terrified – even more frightened than the situation seemed to call for. What was I missing?

  “Yvonne! Falcon!,” I bleated uselessly, inching closer.

  He finally freed one hand, and pushed at her shoulder, causing her to lose her balance. She retaliated by lunging at him, wrapping her fingers around his neck, and attempting to choke him. He put up a good fight, and the two of them started rolling across the floor. Directly into my legs.

  “Shit!” I cried as I went down hard on my ass, accompanied by the sound of my skirt ripping. I barely managed to shift my legs sideways to avoid being trampled. I speed-crawled toward my desk and made it as far as the end of the couch before noticing Falcon and Yvonne were on their feet again, lumbering toward my hiding place. I poked my head from behind the sofa and watched the blood-covered combatants grappling at the other end.

  Adrenaline surged through my body, preparing me for fight or flight, as I listened to the snarls and barking sounds emanating from their throats. These vampires were insane.

  Treating humans crazies wasn’t bad enough. No, I had to put out the welcome mat for the demented children of the night.

  Yvonne screamed at him as they fought. “I found your stash of dead women, my lying, fornicating consort. Either you’re incredibly lazy, profoundly stupid or you have a true-death wish, because you’ve been hiding your kills in the same place for the last century. I’m betting on all of the above. You knew I’d discovered the secret room underneath the dungeon when I confronted you with the remains of your mother’s body. Not that I blamed you for offing the cow the moment you became a vampire. She had sold you to that sadistic pedophile, after all. Not exactly ‘Mother of the Year’ material. But you could at least have buried your leftovers.”

  Falcon managed to momentarily break free, falling backwa
rds onto the couch. “I don’t know what you’re talking about! There are no dead women. You’re delusional. Mad as a hatter. I’ve never been anything but faithful and true. You don’t deserve me.”

  Yvonne smiled wide, exposing her impressive set of fangs, and leaped – faster than my eye could track – onto Falcon. “I’ll show you what you deserve, pretty boy.” They flailed so vigorously the couch tipped over, depositing the pair onto the carpet again.

  Falcon scrambled to his feet, grabbed a small statue of Freud off a nearby table, and heaved it at Yvonne’s head. The marble connected with a sickening whack, opening a bloody gash in her forehead.

  Yvonne let out a shriek as blood dripped down her forehead, then charged Falcon, screaming, “I’ll kill you, you miserable excuse for a man.”

  Not to be outdone, Falcon countered, his voice booming through the room, “My mother wasn’t the only cow, you sexless, frigid she-fiend.”

  As they ran around my office, throwing everything they could pick up at each other, I crawled toward my desk, hoping the heavy wood would protect me from the onslaught.

  My favorite paperweight flew by my head just as I reached the corner of my desk, and I huddled next to the thick wood, still able to see the maniacs, but safer from attack.

  “You disgusting fool. I lied. You’re a terrible lover!”

  “Yeah, as if I’d want to get within ten feet of the Ice Queen.”

  She growled and tackled

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