by Mara Lee
Pathos stood, pushed his companion away from him and made his way down the dais. He came to face Xethre, hatred and anger radiating off of his cool, beautiful face. “Love will not have her, Alexethre. Your love alone … will not have her. She has been promised to me. When she is Turned. I will claim her. And we will be the most powerful of vampire kind. Zinnock has given his consent.”
Xethre narrowed his eyes. He looked first at Zinnock and then at Pathos. “Perhaps Zinnock promised you Sheridan. But he never meant for that promise to stand. He would never give the only one of his line to a low Council member such as you.”
Pathos growled. “No matter, she will be mine.”
Xethre smiled. It was a slow crawl of evil that spread across his face. The smile of promised death, the smile of cruel and painful intent. “She is mine, Pathos. And you will never take that away from me again.” Xethre laughed when Pathos struck at him with his now clawed hand. He had prepared himself for this. He knew Pathos. He knew Pathos would try to kill him. It was after all, his nature.
He jumped back, levitated up and around, and came to stand at Pathos’s back. He quickly shifted his hand into talons and whipped them down Pathos’s back.
Pathos roared and quick as lightning returned the strike. Xethre barely spared the bleeding wound on his chest any notice before low sweeping Pathos and taking him down. Once on the ground the two vampires clawed and hacked away at one another. Pathos was larger, but Xethre calmer, more intelligent. His attack was born of strategy and extreme will.
Xethre locked the talons from one of his clawed hands into Pathos’ leg. He then ripped at the vampire’s chest with his fangs. He grunted when Pathos’ own talons caught him high on the thigh. The wound began to bleed immediately and Xethre reared back. It was a large enough window for Pathos. He dug his talons in deeper and twisted at the thigh wound.
Pathos leapt free of Xethre’s grasp and changed his position, sinking his fangs into Xethre’s thigh. He growled and tore flesh from bone. Pathos laughed and spat a mouthful of Xethre’s flesh and blood out. He was so sure of his victory it was not until Xethre stood, smiled and pointed that he realized he was bleeding profusely from a wound on his neck. Xethre had slit his throat, and the gaping wound was slow to regenerate.
Xethre smiled. He turned to Michaela who was now holding in her hand a rather impressive looking silver sword. “Pathos … you see, it will always be thus. You will always try to take … and in the end … you shall always lose. For you are an evil soul.” He caught the sword that Michaela tossed at him and with one sweeping motion separated Pathos’s head from his body. He stood looking over the twitching vampire body. “And now you will be nothing but dust.”
“XETHRE!” Sheridan screamed from the archway.
Xethre dropped the sword. His Sheridan was here. Her eyes were large, wide with fear and terror, and her hand was held at her mouth, which was gaping open. He started toward her and then stopped. She looked … she looked terrified. And then he knew. He was covered in blood, standing over the body of his foe, and she was scared … of him. He dropped his head, defeated. If his love would not have him, was frightened of him … then he had truly lost. He had lost everything.
Xethre was unprepared to hear Sheridan’s reprimanding voice shaking the silence. “Let me go, you ugly, foul smelling thing. Let go, ouch … that wasn’t very nice of you. God, and you’re talking about manners… LET ME GO!”
“Let her go, Henrick.” This came from Zinnock.
The ugly, foul smelling thing that was holding Sheridan immediately let her go. Sheridan, as fast as her feet would take her, ran towards Xethre. When she reached him she launched herself at him full force. Xethre grabbed her and hooked his arms around her legs to keep them both steady.
“Oh my God, I was so frightened. I saw you … and him … and then I saw both you on the floor … tearing and…” Her words died down in a rush of breath. She buried her head in Xethre’s shoulder. “Oh Xethre, oh God, I’m so glad you’re okay.” She pulled her head back and punched him squarely on the shoulder. “And if you ever scare me like that again, I’ll fucking kill you.”
Xethre chuckled and pulled her closer to him. “What are you wearing?” He murmured.
Sheridan rolled her eyes. “Their idea, not mine. It’s horrible, I know. And it’s heavy and scratchy.”
“The Council always did like period clothes.”
“Yeah, well, the Council’s tastes suck,” she chirped.
Xethre graced Sheridan with a small smile right before he moved them both back from Zinnock’s advancing figure.
Zinnock stepped over the pile of ash that used to be Pathos and came to stand in front of them. “Well, that was very amusing, and, may I say, helpful.” Zinnock smiled slightly at Xethre. “You’ve just disposed of a very tedious member of our throng.”
Xethre’s lips flattened into a hard, tight line. He said nothing.
“Pathos always was impatient, impatient and stupid. He never was a true member of the Council … too weak … too … gullible.” Zinnock turned the weight of his deep green eyes onto Sheridan. “To think I would gift him with you … as I said, he was stupid. You would never be at his side.” He sighed. “And you … Alexethre, you show more promise than I had believed possible … still … you are not one of us.”
“There is a seat now open…” Willemina’s voice rang out.
Zinnock clenched his jaw. “No…”
Xethre echoed Zinnock.
“But … your strength, your power tonight has demonstrated that Willemina was correct in choosing you. You are not one of us, thus you will not taint Sheridan when you Turn her. And yet, you are still powerful enough to complete the ceremony. You will Turn Sheridan. You have the gift and the strength. It will be as it was first deemed fit.”
Xethre shook his head. He set Sheridan down and pulled her close to the sanctuary of his body. “No.”
Zinnock narrowed his eyes. “What did you say?”
“I said, no.” Xethre looked down at Sheridan with love filled eyes. “I will not Turn her, I will not bring her over. She is human, Zinnock, and she is beautiful as she is.”
Sheridan wrapped her arms around Xethre. “Oh Xethre … I love you.”
He kissed the top of her head. “I love you, my Sheridan.”
Zinnock growled. “As touching as this all is … I’m afraid to say, you have no choice in the matter, Alexethre Roistkauff. You will do as we bid, or you will be destroyed.”
Xethre turned his deep blue eyes onto Zinnock. Small dancing flames shot up and out of his blue orbs and the older vampire took a small step back. Xethre knew that he was glowing. He could feel the power coursing through his body, radiating from his eyes. “You will not have her, Zinnock, none of you will.”
Zinnock’s pale face glowed bright in the dim light and his hands began to shift. “You think you can take me, Roistkauff? You may have succeeded in bringing Pathos low, but you will not succeed with me. I lord over you, boy. My power will crush you like the ant that you are.”
Xethre smiled and his fangs came out in full. “We shall see who the ant is, Zinnock.”
“Enough,” Sheridan screeched, coming to stand between the two raging vampires. “Enough. Oh my God, you guys are worse dead than alive. The testosterone filling this room could shoot a fucking rocket to the moon.” Sheridan turned beseeching toward Zinnock. “Please … please … don’t you see that Xethre is right? I am not a vampire, Zinnock. I could never be a vampire.” She smiled tentatively. “I would drive you guys crazy. Believe me when I say, you don’t want me sitting on any seat in this house.”
Zinnock frowned. “There is no other way, child. You were to be our ambassador, our … right hand. We need new blood on the Council, child, your blood. Once Turned, you will be more powerful than any imagining. There is no other to match you. There is no other solution.”
“There is one.” Michaela’s cool, rich voice rolled over Zinnock like a blanket. She never took he
r eyes off of him as she walked purposefully across the room to where he stood. “You said there is no one to match Sheridan, once Turned. But there is one…” she let her crystalline gray eyes pierce him, “me.”
Sheridan gasped.
Xethre bellowed, “NO!”
Michaela tossed them both a small, grateful smile—a smile full of longing and haunting meaning. “Shhhhhh, be at ease, my friends. It will be all right. This is the way it was meant to be. The fates that you speak of, Xethre, they in their infinite wisdom saw the necessity for this. The fates have given you a chance. And you know better than to spit in the face of the fates.” Michaela turned to Zinnock, eyes now cold. “I propose a trade, Zinnock.” She let her eyes sweep the entirety of the room. “My death for Sheridan’s.”
Zinnock smiled. “You would bind yourself to one of us.”
Michaela laughed. But it was a harsh laugh. “Now, you know better than to ask me that. I will never, never bind to a vampire. I will never be a vampire companion.” She speared Zinnock with a frigid glare. “No vampire will hold dominance over me. But you spoke of a right hand … you wished Sheridan to fulfill this role for you. I will take her place, Zinnock. Allow Xethre to bind Sheridan to him as his human blood companion, and leave them alone, and I will take her place as your right hand…”
Zinnock narrowed his eyes.
“For the love of the Dark Lord,” Willemina stepped down from the dais. “We accept, Michaela Angelash, we accept.” She tossed Zinnock a look that brooked no argument. “Your striking hand, for Sheridan’s.”
Michaela nodded. “So said…”
“So it will be done,” Willemina finished.
“Michaela, what have you done?” Xethre voice was filled with sorrow.
Michaela turned toward him. “What I had to do. Do not grieve for me. It is wisely decided upon. There is more to this than merely you.” She turned from Xethre to smile at Sheridan. “Or you, sweet Sheridan.” She then gave Zinnock and Willemina a frosty, mocking smile. “We will never know who, truly, the puppeteer is, will we?” When she saw their suddenly worried looks she laughed. “Do not worry … hell will be much more enjoyable with me in it.”
* * * *
“Will it hurt?” Sheridan asked nervously from the center of Xethre’s massive bed. They were discussing her now-imminent blood binding,
Xethre chuckled. “No, my love, it will not hurt.”
“But…”
Xethre pressed a finger to her mouth. “Shhhh, my love, trust me. And your powers will not manifest themselves.”
She sighed and drew back. “It’s just … what with everything that Zinnock said about my … well, the power of my bloodline…”
“I know. But it is for that reason that the Council wished to Turn you, my love. You would need a complete Turning for the powers in you to manifest themselves. As my human blood companion no such manifestation will take place. You will just be bound to me as long as my blood flows and night brings me life.”
“Oh, just that long,” Sheridan said, a twinkle in her eyes.
Xethre laughed and pounced upon her naked body. He grabbed her arms and locked her legs down with his. “Yes, that long.” His eyes were searching. “Do you mind?”
Sheridan squeezed the taut globes of his ass and grinned. “Mmmmm … no.” Her face suddenly turned somber. “But … Michaela…”
He sighed and toyed with a strand of her silky hair. “I do believe that Michaela has plans of her own, my love. She would never have struck such a bargain if she did not know a way to extricate herself from it. She will never be bound to the Council, not truly. Her powers, her nature, will always demand … domination. The Council will not have her, my love.”
Sheridan smiled and leaned up to place a kiss on Xethre’s cold cheek. “I love you, Xethre.”
His eyes were drowning deep. “And you are my entire existence, Sheridan Malaya … my entire existence.”
She licked her lips and inched her hips closer to his.
His cock went hard as stone and his eyes burned bright. “What do you do?”
“I do … seduction, Alexethre Roistkauff?” She reached between their bodies to gently cup his balls. “What do you do?”
He inched down her soft, pliant body and captured one of her hard nipples in his wet and ready mouth. “I do you… my love.”
Sheridan laughed and then groaned when she felt the slow, smooth invasion of his fingers within her pussy. She moaned and widened her legs. “Oh Xethre…”
He smiled against the pillow of her breast. He searched out her clit with his fingers and when he found it, he squeezed. Her hips jerked against his hand in response and he tightened his grip on the hard taut nub. Sheridan’s breath eased out of her body a slow caress of air.
He soaked it in. The beat of her heart, so wild in her chest, the sound of her breath as it hit the air, the feel of her human body as it strained, arched, ached and lived. She was so beautiful, so beautiful and so alive, his Sheridan, his love.
“More…” She moaned.
He brought his teeth lightly down on her taut nipple and scraped her sensitive skin. “Yes … more … always more, my love.” He shoved her legs apart and imbedded his hard aching cock within her body, completely. He hooked her legs around his waist and stuffed a pillow under her ass to arch her up. He took her then, with long, merciless strokes that caressed, seized, and demanded.
Sheridan groaned. Her hands wildly grasped for him. She gasped when his mouth trailed hot kisses along her collarbone. She could feel him. He was so deep. He was in her so deeply. She felt each hard ridge, pulsing vein, and surge of blood as it swept through her. Her heart was thrumming wildly within her chest and her pussy was clenching and weeping with need. She arched up off the pillow and tried to get closer still.
“Sheridan … my own, my love…” Xethre nipped the soft skin below her ear and blew gently in the delicate shell.
“Ohhhhh my … my … God … please…” Sheridan locked her legs around Xethre’s back and pressed her chest forward. She wanted to feel him. She wanted to feel everything. Her pussy was spasming now, little shocks were riding her and she felt a delicious pulse surge through her. Her eyes rolled back and she began to pant. “Xethre, Xethre…”
“I know love … come for me … come.” He slammed his hips forward and dug his hands deeply into the soft globes of her ass. His cock was nigh to bursting, but he would not have his release without her. He would not go anywhere without her … his love.
He increased his strokes, like a battering ram his cock surged through her soft pliant flesh and swept her away. Her pussy was a hot vise around him and with each thrust he could feel her flesh closing, sucking him in.
“I’m … oh God, oh God, ohhhhh…” Sheridan twisted and her toes curled. She raked her nails across Xethre’s back and screamed.
He thrust one more time, and exploded within her. He didn’t hesitate then—he pushed her back onto the bed, latched his mouth onto the flesh above her heart and sank his fangs in deep. As he took her blood into his mouth, so too, did he take her life, her soul, her very being. He drank of her spirit, her essence, and he gave himself unto her. He felt her buckling under his body. She went slack but her heart rate sped up. Her heart—it was a fast beating metronome and it was counting out the pulses, the beats, as his ties drew her under.
Sheridan could feel nothing and everything. Her body felt weightless, free, and her mind, her mind was full of Xethre. She could hear him … every thought, every feeling, every moment of his life … and death … she was with him, she was him. Her body, her soul, her heart rose up to meet him. She felt pleasure unlike anything she had ever felt before and it was carrying her away.
She allowed it. She welcomed it. She embraced it.
“My love.” Xethre smoothed a strand of hair away from her face.
Sheridan smiled and gave him a dreamy look. There was blood on his mouth, her blood. “Forgot some?”
He curled his tongue around
his lips and caught each drop of her blood. He wiped his lips clean. “Mine forever.”
She touched her chest. The flesh above her heart was puffy, uneven and raw. She didn’t have to see it to know that she was marked, claimed. “Yes, Xethre … I am yours, forever.”
And thus, Alexethre Roistkauff drew himself down by his beloved and wrapped himself within the smooth, silkiness of her hair, and thanked the Gods and the true hands of fate for his redemption.
The End
About the Author:
Ever since I could pick up a pen, I have been writing. I became fascinated with fantasy at the age of eight, when my mother bought me a copy of ‘The Hobbit’. Not too long after that I became addicted to anything and everything about vampires. The duality of nature fascinated me.
But it was an event four years later that would shape my future career as an author of erotic romance. At the age of twelve I discovered my grandmother’s stash of romance novels, hidden of course, in her closet. I devoured them.
My grandmother kicked me out of the closet. But alas, the damage had been done… I was a hopeless junkie—a romance junkie. To this day I keep my love of fantasy, vampires and romance.
What’s more, I have learned (through much practice) to meld the genres to create, for myself, the perfect environment to pen my erotic romance novels. I live, quite simply, for love, lust and the complex nature of the human heart. And I write to share my love, lusts and complex nature with others.
Meet LSB authors at http://lsbooks.net
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for other exciting literary erotica romances.
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And many, many more!!