"Oui, mademoiselle," he whispered. He sensed her concern and worry and wished to erase it from her pretty face. Stroking her soft cheek, he sighed. "Let us think of something to do quickly, before we tempt fate too much. I would teach you about your powers, but I still think that you shouldn’t use your energies."
"Can you teach me how to light the fire without a match?" she asked, shyly.
Servaes studied her face, beautiful and secure next to him. She trusted him completely to take care of her. He stared at her glowing eyes, purple swimming within the ocean of blue. He smoothed the rich red-brown locks back from her pale, flawless skin. Gradually, he nodded. Raising his hand over his shoulder, he smothered the fire with little effort.
"Show off," she mused. Servaes chuckled.
"The trick to fire," he began, turning her around with him easily, "is to think of fire."
Servaes turned Hathor to the fireplace. He came up to her back. His body pressed closely to hers. Then, with a motion of his hand, the fire lit up. With another motion, it died.
"Simple," he stated. "You try."
Hathor lifted her hand, waving it in the air. All she received was a spark, not the great blaze she envisioned.
"It will come," he murmured close to her ear. His lips brushed the skin on her neck. Hathor shivered. Huskily, he whispered, "Try again."
* * * *
"They’re both still there," Ginger spat. She lowered her hand from the brick wall only to hit it viciously in her anger. The skin on her knuckles scraped off at the tirade only to heal instantly. Frowning, she hissed, "They can’t survive much longer. She should be dead!"
Vincent and Lamar glanced at each other. Just then, they detected laughter on the other side of the blockade. Ginger growled in outrage, storming away before they could answer her.
"Maybe they are eating rats?" Lamar suggested, putting his hands on the barricade. Behind him water dripped from the ceiling, puddling on the ground in even splashes. He closed his eyes, doing his best to concentrate his thoughts. He felt the couple moving behind the thick stone, very much alive. His ears strained for the sound of rodents, hoping to prove his point and solve the mystery.
"I don’t hear rats," Vincent spat. He laid his hand on the rock, pretending to do the same. His impression of them was indistinct and unfocused.
"That is because they ate them," Lamar hissed, pretentiously. The vampire’s eyes met and locked in silent battle.
"The rodents are gone now. They will turn on each other soon," Vincent predicted. His eyes glowed black with hatred. "I hope Hathor wins, though it is unlikely. I should like to step in to teach her about our kind."
"How do you know she would choose you?" Lamar asked in disgust, turning to flee down the passageway to hunt. "She might choose me."
"I have tasted her," Vincent bragged. He followed Lamar into the rain-soaked night. Lamar sped up, trying to ignore his swaggering friend. Vincent refused to be disregarded. "And if she doesn’t, I will show her how painful an existence ours can be. Perhaps, I will make her my eternal slave."
"You couldn’t enslave a fly," Lamar hissed, speeding up into the night. His senses caught a drunk passed out in an alleyway. He thought to find the man and scare him for a bit of fun. He tried to lose Vincent by snaking erratically through different alleyways. The vampire stayed close on his trail.
"Could so!" Vincent protested, not about to be outdone. He turned a sharp corner, his eyes focused on Lamar’s back. As they sped, his unrelenting objections were lost into the blurring movement of the night.
* * * *
The hours faded and blended, turning into days, molding into a full week. Still, Servaes and Hathor stayed within the bedchamber, trapped. Each night Ginger would lead Vincent and Lamar to the door, growing outraged to hear them still alive within. No sounds of torture came from the room as she listened.
"Argh!" Ginger screeched. She flung her fist against the stone in wild fury. Every night, her hands became bloodied and raw. Pushing them to her sides, she ignored the pain as she healed herself. "There is no way they have lasted this long! I want them dead! Suffering! I want them to feel pain!"
Vincent and Lamar would watch her frantic ranting, as she cursed death upon the two within the chamber. Then, after Ginger left, they would follow her out into the night to hunt.
* * * *
Within the quiet sanctuary, Servaes would read to Hathor from some of the volumes he had collected. Most of them were in his native tongue, although some were in other languages she didn’t understand -- German, Spanish, Slavic. When he didn’t read, he would teach her things with her powers, simple tricks that didn’t take up most of her strength. But, as the days wore on and neither of them weakened from lack of blood, Servaes grew bolder in his teachings.
Hathor quickly mastered many of the skills -- invisibility to humans and other vampires, mind reading, mind control -- though she had little chance to perfect them since she couldn’t control her teacher and there were no humans to try them on. Each day, her mind grew stronger, her body more fine-tuned and her skin paler. And, each day, Servaes felt the strangeness within him stir and grow.
"I am tired of making myself disappear. I want to make fire," she grumbled. She lifted her hand to the fireplace, thinking of fire. Motioning her hand, she tried to smother the content flames. They sputtered and continued to burn. "Why can’t I get it?"
"You try too hard," Servaes answered quietly, looking up from the book he read quietly.
He was used to the solitude and endless hours, so he was not as disturbed by them as she was. He could see that Hathor was fidgety. To her, a week cooped up in one room was a long time, especially with so many powers growing in her body. He could well imagine her form bursting to try them out.
"How long do you think they will leave us here?" she asked, moving restless around the bearskin rug in circles. "Maybe we should try to tunnel out."
Servaes chuckled. It was not the first time she mentioned the idea. Going to the door, she pushed on it. It didn’t budge. Already they tried moving it together to no avail. The wood was too thick, reinforced with unbendable steel. Servaes had informed her it was made by vampiric craftsmen and would be unbreakable.
"They might not come back," he said truthfully. "It is hard to say. But my guess is that more than likely Ginger will grow angered at not feeling one of us dead. She will tear through the wall and confront us. She has quite a temper."
Hathor leaned against the door, tired from trying to open it. They had both felt Ginger’s restless presence each night at dusk, joined by her two lackeys. And they felt her outrage as she left them once more inside.
Servaes perceived his powers to weaken slightly, like they did when he didn’t drink of blood. But after the fourth day his body mellowed, plateaued in a state of contented rest.
"We could trick her," Hathor said suddenly, coming forward. "When she comes to the door, just think like you have eaten me, and I will think of nothing."
Servaes watched her, doubtful. His eyes roamed over her body. The past week might not have been hard on his mind, but his libido felt differently. Sleeping next to her each night, not being able to touch her as she nestled next to him, was driving him to severe distraction. Biting his lip, he ran his tongue over the tip of his fang thoughtfully.
Hathor turned to the fire, mumbling and motioning her hand. The orange glow licked over her body, outlining the slender form. Her bare feet curled in the bearskin rug once again as she began her circular travels.
Absently, Servaes asked, "Is it so bad being trapped with me? It has only been a week. How will you feel after the first hundred years?"
The idea brought him up short. He had been trying not to think on it. He was so happy with her, content to sit and read to her, content to spend all his time next to her. But, as the nights wore on, she didn’t speak of loving him. She didn’t speak of their eternity together. So he didn’t speak of it either. Did she regret her decision already? Servaes swallowed nervously
when she didn’t answer. He set his book aside and sat up.
Hathor’s hand fell to her side at the question. How could she explain that it was torture for her to be with him? She couldn’t touch him. She couldn’t make love to him. Her body screamed with intense longing to do just that. It was a longing deeper and more arduous than that of her human life. She felt it acutely, within every movement in her vampiric being.
Beyond the physical ache, her heart also began to twinge. He never told her he loved her. She sensed it in him, but he never said it. Hathor began to doubt the emotion even existed in him. Maybe he was lonely, she’d tell herself. The idea did little to comfort. She wondered if he changed her to have a companion and friend to spend the days with. If he didn’t love her as she did him, then that was even worse than spending the eternity apart. Forever was a long time not to have your heart returned to you.
Servaes came slowly to her side, touching the velvet skin of her cheek. Hathor turned her gaze to him, eyes wide with wonder and desire. She tried to smile but couldn’t make her lips move. Servaes wanted to probe her with his questions, wanted to force the words of love from her. But he couldn’t. Even if he could control her, he wouldn’t.
So instead of asking her with his words, he leaned over to ask her with his lips. Lightly, his mouth brushed against hers. The kiss was so gentle and tender that her knees weakened, and she fell into his broad chest. Servaes’ chest reverberated with a manly chuckle -- full of masculine pride at his easy accomplishment. His arms wrapped around her waist holding her to him. His lips never left hers.
Hathor moaned, her hands gliding into his hair. She kissed him deeply, saying with her body what she didn’t dare say with her heart. She wouldn’t burden him with her love if he didn’t ask for it. She had said it once. That was enough.
Servaes lowered her to the soft rug. He made love to her with an agonizing slowness, memorizing every curve of her body with his hands. The power she felt surged though her, propelling her further than ever before. When they met their release, they could feel the earth moving beneath them and the stars swimming in the far off heavens.
Chapter Twenty Three
Servaes held Hathor to the crook of his naked body, completely sated. His limbs curled around her, facing the fire as it continued to crackle around them. Hathor turned in his embrace. Facing his chest, she ran her fingers over the smooth proud folds. Peeking up at him, she gave a light moan of contentment. The sound drifted around Servaes like the purring of a kitten.
Lifting her mouth, she kissed him on the chin. Servaes opened his eyes to glance at her. He returned a kiss to her forehead. His hands glided over her naked back. A wicked smile settled on his features.
"Mmm," Hathor moaned. She giggled, as his fingers grew emboldened. She didn’t stop his exploration as he roamed over her hip and down her thigh. She moved against his hand. His fingers were a bit chilled, but still not as deathly cold as they should have been.
Hathor leaned up to kiss his awaiting mouth. Instantly, his tongue ran over her lips, parting her mouth to a deep caress. Hathor’s mouth mimicked his movements. Her tongue ran over his teeth, feeling the edges. Suddenly, she pulled back. His teeth were not as pointed.
"What?" she began in confusion. She lifted her hand to touch his face. Her finger began to dig within his mouth. Servaes jerked his head back.
"What --" he said to echo her confusion. His words were cut off by the sound of the door crashing open.
Hathor’s eyes enlarged in terror at the noise. She turned to the opened doorway to see Ginger--her hands on her hips, her eyes glowing a demonic red. Seeing the naked lovers on the floor, the vampiress howled viciously. Servaes was instantly on his feet, unmindful of his nudity. Hathor was more modest, reaching to pull her shirt over her head as fast as she could. Then, in one movement, she pulled on her underwear and jeans at the same time. By the time she made it to her feet, Servaes was blocking Ginger from her view. Hathor stayed hidden behind him, confused.
"I want to see her," Ginger spat. Her eyes roamed quickly over Servaes’ naked form. She was unaffected.
"Why?" Servaes asked. "You have no business with her."
"You masked her scent somehow. You try to trick us. She is still human. And I demand her death by the will of the others." Ginger tried to move to the side to see Hathor. She was afforded only a glimpse of her pale face before Servaes again blocked her. "You have been feeding on her."
"She is vampire, Ginger. If you touch her, you will die. It is our law," Servaes stated quietly. "I made her. She is mine."
"If she were vampire, you or she would be dead!" Ginger hissed. Her eyes glowed with a fanatical raging light. Her lips curled and snarled. Her mouth opened to reveal stark white teeth. "She is pale from blood loss. But is she is not dead. She is human. A changed vampire couldn’t have lasted so long."
"Begone, Ginger," Servaes said. He felt Hathor as she came up next to him. She handed him his pants. He kept his eyes on Ginger as he tugged them on. When he again stood, Hathor took up his arm at his side. She stared defiantly at Ginger.
"I am one of you," Hathor said quietly. "Now leave me be."
"Let me see your mouth," Ginger hissed. "Show me your power if you are like me."
Hathor felt her teeth beneath her gums. Her fangs had yet to grow. As to powers, she hadn’t had a chance to test them. Hiding her fear, she said, "I will not perform parlor tricks for you. If you want a grinder monkey to entertain you, go find Lamar or Vincent. They will be happy to delight."
Hathor felt Servaes’ body shake softly with a chuckle, though he said nothing. Ginger’s face turned red. Suddenly, Lamar and Vincent were at her side. They sneered out their hatred towards the couple.
"You dare call me a monkey, blood being!" Vincent hissed.
"Then be afraid of me," Servaes warned in his most menacing tone. He pushed Hathor behind his back. "You are lucky I do not kill you for your insults to me."
"We have had enough of you, Servaes, and your high-handed ways. If the council will not act, then we will!" Ginger shot forward, straight for Servaes’ naked midsection. She slammed into his skin, knocking him back. Vincent and Lamar soon joined the fray. Their nails jutted like claws as they tore forth to help Ginger subdue Servaes. Hathor didn’t think. She leapt onto Ginger’s back, grabbing the woman by her hair. Ginger screamed, calling for more help. Suddenly, the bedchamber was overflowing with vampires as they poured in through the passageway.
Servaes fought bravely, swinging his fists, kicking his bare feet into hard stomachs. But he hadn’t eaten in a week and was weakened greatly from the lack of nourishment. A dozen hands pinned him to the ground, binding his ankles with heavy iron chains. His eyes searched in the firelight for Hathor. He found her, knocked unconscious. Vincent straddled her body, binding her hands with a thick rope.
A howl escaped his lips, echoing throughout the passageways into the Vampire Club. The attackers didn’t heed his cry. Their jealous hearts hated Servaes for finding happiness, especially Ginger, who had seen the woman first.
Vincent threw Hathor over his shoulder. He walked easily behind the others as they dragged Servaes by his feet. Servaes’ back scraped on the ground as he grabbed for the jutting stones along the floor. The hard, rock floor dug into his flesh. His skin bumped and splashed in puddles of stale water. The vampires didn’t slow their progress, nor did Servaes’ struggling hamper their evil purpose.
Ginger led the way, pushing open doors in her fury. She guided around twists and turns, through cobwebbed halls and inclined arches. Finally, she stopped. Turning her head sharply, a wicked and cruel grin formed on her mouth. Motioning to her followers, she stepped into a round courtyard blocked by a circle of stone. She sniffed defiantly at the night air.
"Tie them," she commanded. Her stiff British accent clipped hard over Servaes’ ears. The move had torn up his back. He felt himself bleeding into the grass beneath him, leaving a trail as he was dragged into the center of the ring. Joyfully, she yell
ed at her fellow vampires, "I promised you some sport! Now you will see how powerless these old relics have become."
Moaning, Servaes used his last bit of energy to fight their hold on his arms. It was not enough. They strapped his limbs to the ground, staking him in the form of a cross. He could feel the night wind whisking through his hair, caressing his skin that had so recently held Hathor’s embrace.
Hearing a thud, he turned his head to the side. Hathor’s pale face lay peacefully, her chin turned towards him. A thin river of blood ran from her parted lips and a matching crimson blob marred her temple. He tried to will her to awaken, but she wouldn’t move. Vincent staked down her bound hands, fastening them like his own. Lamar tightly joined her feet.
When they finished their grim task, the vampires began to leave, trailing from the circled mound of grass back into the tunnels. Ginger came to stand above him. She placed a foot by each side of his hips. Then, lowering herself to sit on his waist, she leaned over to stroke his hair.
"It looks as if I am not the one to be banished, my lord," she chuckled. "Face it. The old ones have become too old. You have grown soft. We are the new leaders of the tribes. We don’t need you. We don’t need anyone to govern us."
"You will die for this," Servaes whispered back. His body held completely still, knowing he couldn’t fight her. "There are laws."
"We care not for your sacred laws, Marquis." Ginger leaned down. Closing her eyes softly, she brushed her lips against his. Without pulling away, she said, "You got too greedy, Servaes. You wanted her all to yourself. Well, now you shall have her in death. But I give you a gift. You will see the sunrise together."
"Argh!" Servaes lurched, bucking her up off his body. His eyes glared an immortal black. He bared his teeth trying to bite up at her.
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