In the Shadow of Darkness

by Nicole Stiling

  Her lips parted and Megan tilted her head to allow Angeline full access. The mutual desire felt like a liquid bubble surrounding them, threatening to pop at the slightest provocation. Everything else forgotten, Megan retreated from the warmth of Angeline’s mouth and dragged her tongue lightly over the curve of Angeline’s neck. She heard a moan escape Angeline’s lips, which only goaded her more.

  Strengthened by her excitement, Megan rolled Angeline onto her side and climbed on top of her, straddling her.

  “Mmm,” Angeline said in response. She grabbed a fistful of Megan’s shirt, tugging on it. When Megan made no move to remove the offending item of clothing, Angeline sat up and raked her nails down the length of Megan’s back, tearing the shirt in two. Megan gasped as she slid it down the front of her and tossed it to the ground like a flimsy hospital gown.

  “I liked that shirt,” Megan said, unable to contain a smile.

  “I don’t care,” Angeline replied, pulling her down forcefully. She kissed Megan again, rubbing her hand up Megan’s back, her touch on Megan’s bare skin setting the kindling in Megan’s stomach ablaze. She found the clasp of Megan’s bra and undid it with a quick flick of her fingers. She flipped Megan again, so that she was lying beneath her. Megan looked up, aching for her. There was the slightest hint of fear, which she knew had absolutely nothing to do with the ivory fangs hidden beneath Angeline’s gums. She wasn’t afraid for her life. She was afraid for her heart.

  Angeline seemed to sense a change, and she kissed her lips lightly. She ran her hand over the swell of Megan’s breast, and her eyes flickered with pure want. “You are so beautiful, Megan. I’ve wanted you from the moment you opened your eyes that night in the parking lot. I don’t think I’ve ever wanted anything so much in my entire life.”

  Megan swallowed, drowning in the thickness of the air that surrounded them. She grabbed on to the hem of Angeline’s shirt, which Angeline shed immediately. They kissed again, flesh against flesh, tongue against tongue. Megan couldn’t breathe, couldn’t think. She felt like her entire body was on fire, sizzling at Angeline’s touch. She felt like she was intoxicated, the way her head swam. But there was no way half a beer could have done that. It was all Angeline.

  Angeline grunted in frustration at the button on Megan’s jeans and Megan decided she couldn’t wait any more. She grabbed Angeline’s wrist and thrust it down the front of her jeans. The look in Angeline’s eyes made Megan’s stomach drop. Sultry. Ravenous. Unstoppable. She felt Angeline’s middle finger trail softly up the length of her. Testing her, almost. A rush of breath escaped her mouth, followed by Megan clenching Angeline’s hair in her fist.

  “You’re sure you still want to do this?” Angeline asked, her voice nearly unrecognizable. Megan closed her eyes as Angeline’s tongue skated from the hollow of her throat, up to her neck, the rhythm matching that of the hand inside her pants.

  “Shut up and take me,” Megan whispered breathlessly. She covered Angeline’s hand with her own and pressed on her firmly. Megan moaned as Angeline understood her encouragement and slid the fabric of her underwear to the side. Megan clutched the blanket and arched her back. Angeline took advantage of her position and pulled her jeans off easily. Megan tucked her fingers into the sides of Angeline’s jeans and tugged, hoping she would take the hint so she could finally feel her body against her. She did and kicked them off in a flurry. She quickly resumed her position on top of Megan, and Megan thought she might float out of the room while Angeline kissed every inch of exposed skin. She removed the rest of their clothing without Megan even realizing it.

  The wherewithal to be embarrassed had fled a long time ago, so Megan moaned and clawed at the sheets with abandon. She had never, ever experienced this kind of attention before, and it was slowly driving her mad. She was squirming submissively beneath Angeline’s touch, wanting to hurry her but also wanting it to last forever. Angeline continued her journey southward, her left palm gently gliding over Megan’s chest. She slid her finger down the length of Megan’s wetness and slowly inserted herself as Megan cried out. She gripped the sheets with both fists, her body rocking with Angeline’s movements inside her. Angeline brought her thumb up and began stroking her in slow, measured circles, keeping rhythm with her thrusts. Megan could feel herself getting closer, closer.

  Megan lost herself completely before any coherent thought could be expressed. She grabbed on to Angeline’s wrist, where her hand was cupped around her breast, and just gave in. Her orgasm crashed through her as she writhed against Angeline’s fingers, oblivion swallowing her whole. Megan’s whole body went weak with release, and she wondered for a second if she was going to pass out. Angeline slowly slid her fingers out when the aftershocks had subsided. Before she opened her eyes, Megan shuddered as the tingling gradually dissipated.

  Angeline slid up beside her, softly kissing her shoulder and chest, rubbing her stomach lightly. Megan pulled her close, their slick bodies sticking to each other.

  “I just saw literal fucking stars,” Megan said. She laughed, shaking the cobwebs out of her head.

  Angeline laughed too. She rubbed the pad of her thumb along Megan’s jawline and kissed it softly. “We can just relax if you want to.”

  Megan was up on all fours in an instant, leaning her face into Angeline’s, her knees at Angeline’s sides. “Not a chance,” she said, kissing Angeline fervently, with a desperation she had never felt. She could hear Angeline moan beneath her lips, as she rocked into her, their wet heat creating a volcano between them. Needing more, Megan trailed her way down Angeline’s body, taking her breast into her mouth, teasing, licking, before traveling down once more and kissing the softness of Angeline’s thigh. She sucked in her breath when she allowed the gravity of what she was about to do sink in. Angeline lay there, ready for her, so beautiful and vulnerable, so open and wanting. Softly, Megan ran her tongue up the extent of her, her stomach clenching with every twitch and shiver that coursed through Angeline’s body. She felt Angeline’s hands tangle in her hair, making it even more intense, which wasn’t even possible. She stroked Angeline softly with her tongue, featherlight until Angeline couldn’t take it any more and she heard her murmur “please.” Wanting desperately to make her feel as good and as whole as Angeline had made her, Megan gripped her thighs tightly and concentrated on tight, slow circles, delirious in the taste of her. Angeline began breathing heavily, saying Megan’s name softly, over and over, until it reached a crescendo. Angeline pulled hard on Megan’s hair as the tidal wave hurtled into her, through her. Megan stayed, making sure she extracted every bit of pleasure that was to be had, until Angeline finally fell backward, spent and limp.

  “Oh my God,” Angeline groaned, covering her eyes with her forearm. “I don’t think I will ever be able to walk again. Come here.”

  Megan smiled, trying to ignore the fluttery feeling in her stomach. She crawled her way back up to Angeline’s mouth, where they kissed again, lazy and comfortable. Angeline kicked back the covers, cocooning them under her soft comforter. “Stay with me,” she whispered, laying her head on Megan’s chest. Megan stroked her hair softly enjoying the haze of sleep already surrounding her, ordering herself not to analyze what any of this meant.

  Chapter Eighteen

  Averill Park, New York, 1953

  Panic flooded through Angeline’s body. She felt as though she couldn’t breathe. Kathryn continued her slow stride toward her, confident and condescending. Angeline regained her senses and flew toward the house, pushing Kathryn out of the way.

  “What did you do?” she screamed, tearing up the steps in one giant leap.

  Angeline ran toward the bedroom that she and Charlotte shared, wild-eyed and desperate. What she saw was worse than she’d imagined. Charlotte lay on the floor, her body bent at an odd angle. Blood streamed from the gaping hole in the side of her neck, creating a maroon pool in the shape of a sickening halo around her head.

  “Ohmygodohmygodohmygod,” Angeline cried, falling to her knees. She
heard a slight gurgle come from Charlotte’s throat. She felt her neck with two fingers and was able to find a weak pulse, barely enough to register through Charlotte’s skin.

  “You’re going to be okay, Charlotte. I can save you,” Angeline said. Her voice was thick with fear and her eyes were blurred with tears. She forced her teeth to retract and sank them into her own wrist to draw blood. She covered Charlotte’s mouth with her wrist and pinched it to drive the blood out faster.

  “Drink, please drink. Swallow. Come on, Charlotte,” Angeline demanded, unaware at first that Kathryn had stepped into the room.

  “I wouldn’t,” Kathryn said. The indifference on her face was infuriating. She had her hands on her hips and looked down at Angeline like she was watching a game of checkers.

  “I don’t give a fuck what you would or wouldn’t do, you soulless fucking monster!”

  “Well, don’t say I didn’t warn you,” Kathryn said, shrugging.

  Angeline ignored her, compelling Charlotte to swallow just one more time. That would be enough, wouldn’t it? She hadn’t ever turned a person before, but she was sure that her blood wouldn’t be able to heal Charlotte; she was too far gone. Her only hope was that if she died with Angeline’s blood in her system, she’d come to, and she’d transform. Angeline left her wrist in place while she hung her head and prayed—something she hadn’t done in twenty years—unsure if it would be welcome or blasphemy.

  Charlotte sputtered one last time, Angeline’s blood trickling out of her mouth. She was dead. Angeline brushed her hair from her face, crying and pleading with her to wake up. “Please. Please,” she repeated over and over. “Wasn’t it enough?”

  Kathryn nodded slowly. “Definitely. She’ll wake up in no time.”

  “Kathryn, why did you do this? Why? Why?” Angeline asked, her desperation overwhelming. She didn’t understand. She knew Kathryn was selfish and jealous, but she had no idea that she could be that cold, that hollow. Even at her meanest, Kathryn had never done anything so calculated.

  “Dammit, Angeline, you know why! I told you to get rid of her or I would, and what do you do? You plan to run away, a little lovers’ rendezvous, as though I would just allow that. I gave you a chance to send her on her way, which, might I add, was extremely generous of me. And you took that generosity and stuffed it down my throat like a sock doused with kerosene. So you can take all of your indignation and fuck off, Angeline, because you killed this bitch, not me.”

  Her mouth refused to move, to form any type of sound. There were no words to respond to Kathryn, no feelings that could sum up the rage and the fear and the disbelief that crowded Angeline’s brain. Next to her, Charlotte’s body twitched.

  “Charlotte? Can you hear me?” Angeline asked, momentarily forgetting Kathryn behind her. Charlotte’s body twitched again. And then she sat up so fast Angeline recoiled in surprise.

  “No, no, no!” Charlotte screamed. She clawed at her skin. She thrashed backward, slamming her head onto the hardwood floor. “Make it stop! Oh, God, please make it stop!”

  Angeline stood up in horror and turned to Kathryn. “What’s happening? Kathryn, why is she like this? Kathryn!”

  She sighed, but the glint in her eyes was pure evil. “I told you not to do it. True, I drained her of most of her blood, but I didn’t want to leave just bones and skin. So I replaced what I took. With cyanide.”

  “You did WHAT?” Angeline yelled, raking her hair with her hands. Charlotte continued to writhe on the floor, screaming and flailing in deepest agony.

  “It burns! Angeline, please! Please! Make it stop!”

  Kathryn shook her head slowly, in mock concern. “If only you’d listened. Lots of lessons learned today, Angeline.”

  Angeline had never felt so helpless, so defeated, so desperate. “Kathryn, please! Tell me what to do! How do I stop it?”

  Kathryn disappeared from the room and quickly reappeared with her steel katana that she kept mounted over the fireplace. “Go ahead, Angeline. Relieve her.” Kathryn handed the sword to Angeline and nodded to where Charlotte struggled on the floor.

  Angeline’s eyes widened in horror. “No! I can’t! I don’t want her to die! I was trying to save her.”

  Kathryn tightened her lips and raised her eyebrows. “Then let her suffer. I assume that she’ll die anyway, eventually, maybe, but you can certainly take that risk if you’d like. This is a first for me too.”

  Blood dripped from Charlotte’s eyes, mingled with her tears of agony. She whimpered and groaned, punctuating her wordless pleas with bloodcurdling screams.

  “Do it, then!” Angeline yelled, backing up against the wall. “I’m so sorry, Charlotte. I’m so sorry.”

  Kathryn took a few steps toward her and held the braided rope of the katana handle out toward Angeline. “You do it. This is your mess, you need to clean it up.”

  Angeline wondered for a moment if she was on the brink of losing her sanity. Charlotte was a quivering, bloody mess on the floor before her, Kathryn was demanding that she kill Charlotte in an act of mercy, and only moments ago she was packing the car to leave for a quaint motel in upstate Vermont.

  She had no choice. Charlotte looked to her, pleading for an end to the torment. Angeline took the katana in her trembling hands and Kathryn stood against the dresser with her arms folded.

  “I…I can’t…” Angeline stuttered, terror overwhelming her. But she had to push it down, she had to be strong. The killer that she so delicately harbored within herself emerged, ready to perform the horrible deed. Charlotte choked, a spray of blood cascading toward the floor.

  “I love you,” she whispered, and she held the sword above her head with both hands. She wasn’t sure if she had hallucinated it, but she was almost certain that Charlotte nodded, giving her permission.

  With a guttural cry, Angeline brought the sword down with every shred of her strength. Charlotte’s cries ceased immediately, and the katana stuck in the wood floor beneath her head. The sword fell to the ground with a shattering clang as Angeline dropped to her knees beside it. She couldn’t look at her. She couldn’t acknowledge what she’d done.

  “End it, Kathryn. Just end it. Please,” she sobbed. “You can start fresh. Find someone new. Just fucking end me.”

  “Absolutely not. Don’t be so dramatic. I didn’t come this far with you just to send you into whatever afterlife lies beyond this nightmare. I know you’re upset with me. It’ll fade, I promise. The good news is that you’re already packed. We should get going before anyone comes knocking to see what the racket was all about.”

  Angeline’s sob caught in her throat. Her sadness and self-pity faded from her slowly, like paint running down a canvas. All that replaced it was fury. Whatever misguided loyalty Angeline had felt toward Kathryn was gone, any appreciation, any inklings of affection, any empathy toward her plight. Gone, gone, gone.

  “You’re right,” Angeline said, standing up. She picked up the sword and stabbed it into the ground, leaning on it like it was a cane. She used the palm of her hand to dry her cheeks. She cricked her neck back and forth. “I was foolish to let feelings get in the way. It could only end this way. I never should have let it get as far as it did.”

  Kathryn flinched. It was a flashing micro-expression that flitted across her face, but it was there, and Angeline saw it. It only fueled her rage.

  “Right. I’ll throw a few things together myself and we can be on our way. I don’t like the cold though, as you know, so I’d prefer we head back down south. Or maybe out west. I don’t really care either way—”

  Kathryn whipped around, but it was too late. Angeline speared her stomach with the tip of the sword and pushed forward at lightning speed until Kathryn was impaled against the heavy oak door leading to the outside. Kathryn grasped at the handle of the sword sticking out of her stomach, but she was weakened by the foreign object mingling with the power of her blood. Her eyes glowed like a cat’s eye while blood seeped out like tears. Her fangs dug into her lips with an
anger Angeline knew she was trying to harness. She stared at Angeline with a horrible wonder.

  “How could you?” Kathryn asked weakly, still trying to remove the sword from her stomach. It was lodged firmly within the thick wood. “I gave you new life. I protected you. I took care of you. I loved you.”

  Angeline scoffed loudly, her vision blurry through the darkness and tears. “Loved me? You’ve never loved anything in your life, Kathryn. If that’s what you want to call it.” Angeline watched as Kathryn struggled, unable to find purchase on the slippery handle of the blade. For the first time, probably ever, she felt no mercy. She felt nothing. “I despise you.”

  Angeline walked away from her, ignoring Kathryn’s grunts and screams of frustration. She picked up the apothecary bottle that housed the long matches they’d used to get the fireplace going.

  “What are you doing?” Kathryn asked, her tone wary.

  Angeline sensed that Kathryn might actually think she was serious, and this time, she’d show no hesitation. No mercy. She rubbed the match along the striker, her lips curling back from her teeth as the flame engulfed the blue tip. As much as she wanted to remove the sword from Kathryn’s stomach and behead her with it, she didn’t think she’d be able to go through with it. Not again. Not so soon. And not to someone who would plead for their life. Besides, the slightest wrong move could put Kathryn back in control. At least impaled, Kathryn was unable to summon the strength to free herself.