“Fuck.”
“I wouldn’t recommend it, but if you really want to…”
“Ha-ha. Aren’t we funny?”
Gregory hacked, stabbed, and pummeled anything within arm’s length. Blood spattered the walls and floor of the tunnel and ran in rivulets down his body. I understood now about Gregory not wearing a shirt. The vampires fell around him, but for all that he cut them down, the close quarters and overwhelming number allowed the Incubi to claw and bite while he tried to deal with another vamp.
How long would he be able to keep it up? I stood about five feet away, letting my weight bounce from one foot to the other feeling useless. When a vampire dropped onto my back from the ceiling, my heart jerked in my chest. I deserved a face palm of magnitude five.
A scream tore from my throat as we collapsed to the floor with it riding me down to the ground. Fangs pierced the side of my throat, and I bucked my back, trying to throw it off, but it wrapped one arm around my chest and used the other to yank at my pants. Oh God, it was trying to strip me. I managed to get my arm around enough to sink the knife into its thigh, and it shrieked when the cold burn of the blade parted the skin and muscle. The blade sang through my head in excited tones, drawing energy and power from the blood.
The wound wasn’t deep enough to do real damage, and the vampire responded by slamming my face into the ground. I rolled my eyes up enough to see that Gregory was surrounded now and taking more damage than he gave. We were losing. I found it ironic that I was an Incubi vamp and I was about to be killed with sex. Perhaps it was the universe’s way of collecting a debt. I killed Tommy with sex, and now I would die the same way.
The Fucker fumbled at the waistband of my jeans, its claws digging into the skin at the small of my back as it tried to yank them down. There was little pain, only the hot wetness of my blood. I realized that meant the wound was pretty bad. Paper cuts always hurt more than a gash. Its teeth were still dug into my neck but it wasn’t swallowing my blood anymore so much as using it as a way to force me to hold still. The more I struggled, the more the holes in my neck tore and increased my blood loss.
“Help me, damn it! Help us. Or we’re dead.”
The Hunger shook her head and paced. “I don’t know how to without sex. You did it earlier on your own.”
“Shit.”
I reached for my magic and coaxed it a bit at a time. Being bitten and clawed made it hard to concentrate. The reflex I’d used to attack Adrian was now offline.
The magic finally filled my body, and I sent it out to settle around the vamp on my back, hoping to latch onto its aura. There wasn’t much left. It was slippery and full of holes, but I finally gripped it with my Hunger. A weak trickle of energy flowed into me, and the vamp’s teeth slid out of my neck and his arm loosened and then fell away. I pushed up with my knees and dumped him to the side. The knife plunged into his chest before I had time to even consider what I was doing.
When I wrenched the blade free, there was suction, almost as though it didn’t want to come. I took the head off with one clean swipe and promised myself I could cry and puke later. Now was for living. My magic dropped like a sparkling blanket around my shoulders, and I wielded it without remorse, trying to let it settle on the vampires that surrounded Gregory. The Incubi swarmed, and he had disappeared from view. My magic slid off the horde, finding nothing to latch onto.
But I could feel the energy that drove them—it was as familiar as an old coat or worn-out jeans. Their magic was in a frenzy as mine had been for so many years when I had kept it locked away and separate from myself. Instead of trying to feed on them, I let my magic mingle with theirs. A sharp hiss filled my head, pain flaring in the middle of my forehead until I thought my eyes were going to burst.
“What are you doing, you fool?”
“You said this is similar to what you are. Help me. If we can control their magic, we can control them.”
“There is going to be a cost for this.”
“Shut up and help. I don’t want to be raped to death in a fucking tunnel.”
“Fine, but don’t whine to me later.”
A terrible gnawing ache filled me, spreading from the center of my body and along every nerve ending. My skin crawled with the power and ached for touch. All the Incubi turned to look at me in unison, and I held my hands out in welcome. A few began to crawl my way, but the others snarled or hissed, showing their fangs.
Sexual hunger and a gnawing emptiness in my belly turned my legs to mush. The creatures nearest to me were suddenly so beautiful, so desirable, that tremors rode my skin when they reached out to touch or lick along my body. The sharp graze of fangs and claws nearly brought me to orgasm.
Sound erupted from somewhere in the tunnel, but I paid no attention to it. All that mattered was the need for sex flowing through my body with each pump of my heart and brush of flesh on flesh. A snarling growl filled my head, and I tried to block it out; the sound was frightening and alien. The more I tried to run from it, the louder it became until finally I was cornered.
“You will not have sex with those creatures, Miranda.”
“But, Daniel, I’m hungry, so hungry…”
“No.”
I rose to my feet and tried to run from the voice.
“Stop. If you must feed you will use your fangs and nothing more. Master your Hunger; do not let it ride you. Intercourse with these things will kill you. Fo—”
The voice cut off, and the pain of a sharp tug in my aura ripped at my solar plexus. Then there was nothing. It should have been important, but I couldn’t remember why. A female had gotten close enough to lick my cheek, and she nuzzled my breast through what was left of my shirt. I snagged her hair and brought our lips together, getting a rush of energy that was burned away in the fire that raged through my blood. I bit down on her lip with my fangs and sucked the blood away, but it still wasn’t enough.
Her breasts rubbed against mine, claws scoring my sides. It should have been painful, but I was so consumed by the terrible beast riding me that all I could feel was pleasure and the need to feed. Her head turned to the side, offering her neck, and my teeth seated to the hilt. I tore at the flesh, swallowing the blood and chunks of meat. Blood filled my mouth, overflowed it, ran into my nose, and I choked but kept going until the body on mine became limp and I shoved it aside. Another took its place, offering another neck that was larger, more muscular. A male this time.
I offered no foreplay, following instinct and the need to obey the voice in my head that told me to drink, drink deeply, and not stop until the Hunger abated. He shuddered as I fed, and I let my hand grasp his penis and stroke it as I stole the blood from his body. He came on my leg and hand. The voice didn’t tell me to stop, and the terrible hunger for bare skin and sex fed on this male’s orgasm as he died in my embrace. It was a better feeding, more complete than I’d yet had, and my own magic bloated from the feast. My back and sides itched as damaged skin and deeper wounds began to knit together.
I pushed the magic away until I could begin to feel myself inside my own head again, beyond the haze of physical need and the terrible directive. The weight of the other bodies fell away as I sat up, shoving the vampires that clung to my legs and had buried their fangs in my wrists aside. The wounds closed as I watched.
I had another way to kill.
Oblivion’s Kiss slid from the sheath, and my magic caressed, touched, and flirted with the energy that resided within. It flared to life with a purring hum and lengthened in my hand until it was a double-edged sword that ran with blue and orange flames. Any vampire I beheaded with this blade would not have to be burned and scattered to the water. This blade offered final, absolute death. No reincarnation waited any who bore its edge.
It swung with whistling swiftness through three necks before the vampires could try to scatter out of the way. Their bodies fell limp to the floor in boneless heaps. I chopped again and again; blood spattered and flew, a hot thick rain on my skin. I opened my mouth like
a child outside in a thunderstorm and drank it down. With each death the blade’s humming grew, and it became greedier. Oblivion’s Kiss directed my hand and body, twirling me in a deadly dance through the room, through proffered flesh. The vampires made no attempt to escape. They continued to offer themselves to me, too attracted by my magic and the promise of an end to their hunger. But it was a false promise, a lure that lay in front of waiting teeth at the bottom of the abyss. My magic no longer felt like a warm font of sparkling water, but cold and viscous. It flowed slowly and attached itself to the vampires in a sticky web that drained the life energy from their bodies.
A small part of me wondered where Gregory had gone. I could still sense his magic somewhere nearby through the connection we shared, but it was diminished. I could not see him, and it angered me, made me rage and hack at the Incubi unnecessarily. Limbs flew, and a thick coating of blood and entrails covered the floor until I found myself standing alone in the middle of the tunnel, ankle-deep in fluids.
I wanted him where I could bury the blade in his flesh, capture his soul, and then I would move onto Daniel. He would be a feast alone….
No, that wasn’t right. I shook my head and tried to clear it. Running my hand over my eyes only succeeded in smearing more blood through them. The sword whispered to me with seduction and cold promises of mastery over all who would seek to keep me imprisoned for their own uses, that even my mate was suspect. I tried to drop it or even will it back to being an overly large knife so I could sheath it, but it answered to no one. I was ridden by the magic in the blade, and it found in me a perfect partner. We both fed on blood and death. What was orgasm but a type of death? A release of the soul, momentarily freed of the constraints of the body. And this sword wanted souls above all else.
I tried to focus on Daniel and Gregory, screaming in my head for one of them, either of them to come and help release me from its grip, but if they could hear me they stayed hidden. I knew they were alive, but not where they were. Even in the darkness of the tunnel, I could suddenly see perfectly. It was like night vision without the funny green tint. Where the ability had come from I couldn’t say. The blade perhaps?
Oblivion’s Kiss rose of its own accord and propelled me across the tunnel to a place about ten feet ahead. A door set in the wall stood slightly ajar. I leaned to one side and listened for movement or noise. Nothing. The blade urged me through, sensing living beings on the other side that could help abate its terrible longing for life energy and living souls.
I held back, waiting and searching with my own magic. The sword could easily ride someone else if I was struck down. I was nothing more than the car it currently drove, and the thought helped me clear my thoughts of its seductive song.
“Are you there?”
“Yes…” The Hunger sounded punch drunk and half asleep.
“Please help me get control of this thing.”
“I told you there would be consequences. It’s a different kind of magic than I am. I feed on sex energy. You’re riding death and souls. You’re the keymaster, sister.”
“Wait, what?” Unreliable ass witch. I should have known she’d leave me to deal with this alone.
“Don’t kill the boys; you’ll hate yourself in the morning. I told you not to whine.”
“Motherfucker!” I kicked the wall, and the pain helped clear my head even more. I thought about drawing the blade against my arm and decided against it. If the sword liked the taste of me too much, it might just compel me to kill myself. Instead I dug my nails into my free hand until blood welled up. That helped me focus even more.
Daniel’s presence became clear to me then, a beacon on the other side of the door. He must have finished sweeping the upper floors for Empaths and ventured downstairs to assist us. Gregory was there too, somewhere, but he felt different. I wondered how they had both ended up in the same room. The last I had seen, Gregory had been buried under a tidal wave of starving vampires. The door was only open wide enough for me to scrape through while leaving a healthy dose of skin behind, but I did it anyway. The creak of the door might alert anyone within earshot.
The room was dark, with a bare concrete ceiling and a naked light bulb hanging—little bigger than a closet. The outer door opened into yet another room, this one some kind of storage area. I got closer to Daniel with every step and hurried, stepping over two corpses and a pool of blood on my way to the door on the far side of the room.
Recognizable energy met me as I emerged into the hallway. A creature that seemed familiar stood just outside the door. It was a horrible amalgam of man and monster; if I had thought the Incubi from the tunnel were terrible, this was something only born of a nightmare. It towered over me, white and hairless, arms and legs that were much too long to be on a human body hanging from an emaciated torso. I thought of a praying mantis and how the female eats the male after mating. But this was definitely male, and it would never be eaten by another being. Oversize, red eyes that were nearly eclipsed with pupils the size of saucers took me in before one arm swept toward my head.
The sword whistled through the air and severed the hand and its terrible claws, but I was thrown to the floor with the force of the impact. My right elbow and hip took the brunt of the blow. Even riding on the energy of all the dead vampires I had fed on, numbness raced up my arm and pain flared in my leg. The creature screamed in horrible shrieking agony and charged me. I scrambled backward on my ass into the doorway I’d just left—anything was better than standing still and getting bulldozed.
A familiar dark head appeared over one of the monster’s shoulders, and a partially transformed hand wrapped around the throat from behind, ripping at the skin with three-inch claws. A gush of blood erupted from the wound and poured down its shriveled chest. The creature reared to a stop and picked him from its back with one negligent hand, flinging him into the far wall with a crunch and thud. Gregory didn’t get up.
“No!” My skin felt sticky and crusty, and the smell of the blood filled my nose. I knew I had to take its head off or it was going to take mine. Gregory’s energy ebbed, flickering in the far reach of my awareness.
The remaining arm swung wildly at me. I raised the sword weakly to shield my face—my right arm still mostly useless. Oblivion’s Kiss took the arm away at mid forearm. Another howling shriek followed a spurt of blood. The sword screamed right back, wanting this soul and this blood more than it had any of the previous it had tasted.
I lunged to my feet and charged it as it backed up, hacking at the right leg until it was separated at the thigh. The creature fell onto its back and tried to scoot away with its one remaining leg. This had been a person, but all I could concern myself with was killing it first. The sword slid through its neck with ease, singing in my head in happy tones and colors.
With nothing to block my view, I could finally see Daniel. He slumped against the wall a few feet away with one arm wrapped across his midsection.
“There you are!” I ran to him and sank to my knees at his thigh. He was gray and sweating, the front of his shirt soaked with blood, the leather vest long gone. I wasn’t sure about Gregory, but Daniel was savable.
“Let me see it.” He shook his head no. “You need blood.”
“I would have to drain you to heal.”
“I am flying right now. You can’t hurt me.” It wasn’t entirely true. Fighting giant magic sex monsters is pretty draining. My arm thrummed from elbow to shoulder. I bit down on my wrist, which hurt like crazy—they always make it look like no big deal in the movies. I shoved it at his mouth. He stubbornly refused to open his lips even when I ground it against his mouth. “Look, there are probably more vamps in here that need killing, and Gregory may be dead, and now you’re being stupid! Drink the damn blood!”
He ran his tongue over the wound, tasting me, and then sank his fangs into the holes I’d just made. Bites during sex were incredibly pleasurable. This hurt like hell. When he let go, I picked his arm up off of his stomach. It was bad. The bulge of inte
stines was visible in the rents in his flesh.
“You’re going to be killed outright if you sit here with me much longer. Leave me.”
I didn’t bother to remind him I’d die if he did. “I killed all the vampires in the tunnel. Are there any upstairs?” He shook his head no. “So quit worrying about it. Why haven’t you healed yet? You should be doing better than this. And how did it get you anyway?”
He looked embarrassed. “Ambush. I told you I was forbidden to be with you. This is my punishment.”
“What, getting gutted? The Council didn’t tell you to come here. The Goddess did. I don’t understand the connection.”
“I told you my tattoo is in effect a tracking device that raises my own magical ability. It can also be used to punish. The Council has not only removed the ‘boost,’ they have also made it so I heal more slowly. They are sucking energy from me.”
“You’re healing slow enough to die from a wound like this?” I swallowed panic.
“Not under normal circumstances, but I am a sitting duck, as it were.”
“And Gregory?”
“If he has not risen yet, he may be in much the same circumstance. I did not realize what was happening until that creature gutted me.”
My feet couldn’t get me to where Gregory lay fast enough. The last thing I wanted was for anyone to die for me. He lay crumpled at the base of the wall, barely breathing. The back of his head was a mess of blood and bone, and there was a nice man-shaped hole in the cinderblock wall above him. I bit my wrist again and trickled blood into his mouth, worked his jaw when he didn’t stir to swallow it.
I could see the tattoo on his chest beneath the blood and grime. It had changed. Normally they looked like a sword with the hilt to the top and a snake twined around it oruboros style. Now the sword pierced the snake’s body just behind the head.
Oblivion’s Kiss shrank back to knife size before I could even voice the question. Perhaps it was done feeding. I laid the edge against his chest and slid it under the skin in a swift movement, taking off a strip that was four inches wide and six inches long. I pinned it to the floor with the blade. A high-pitched wail hit me behind the eyes before being cut off abruptly. The blade sang in triumph.
Hunger Embraced (The Hunger Series) Page 27