Hunger

by Lillie J. Roberts

  Tantalizing me, she slowly unfastened her bra, sliding it down her arms. Next, her agile fingers found the small vee of lace of the center of her thighs. It glided down the smooth length of her legs. Her every movement became a tease. My fevered eyes watched, drawing out the pleasant, excruciating wait to take her.

  She grew suddenly timid, covering her ample breasts with small hands. “I don’t want you to think that I do this all the time. But, Ben Draco, I’ve wanted you since you stepped into my home.” In that moment, she was sweetly innocent, breathtakingly beautiful, and I held out my hand to her. She slowly reached out as our fingers entwined, revealing herself in her shyness. Her flesh had a peachy glow, ripe with the sun. She would be sweet to my lips, to my body, to my beast.

  “You have no reason to hide yourself.” Whispering, I sat up not trusting myself. My beast wanted to grab hold of her, ravish her, drink from her, feed all its hungers. “You’re glorious.” Then I allowed myself to explore, fingers touching her soft skin, brushing the small mound of curls at the junction of her thighs. “Come,” I breathed. “Let me worship you.” She crawled up the bed and into my arms.

  Our bodies slid together. She straddled my hips as she dipped her lips to drink from mine. She traced them with her eager tongue, probing and tasting like a fruit to be devoured. She rocked against my hips, and though I didn’t think it was possible, my shaft grew harder still. With a sharp intake of breath, she moved back and forth quicker as I glided closer to her soft core. Her eyes closed as she bit her lower lip, and she shifted to allow my hardness to rest against the sweet opening of her body. “I need you inside me.” She swayed over my length, brushing ever closer.

  “By the gods.” Lifting her up, I slid her beneath me. My limit was reached, endurance at its end. My hands traced the soft contours of her inner thighs, parting them to press into her opening. My lips found hers again and I drank my fill. Then my mouth slipped to her neck where her pulse throbbed through my body, making my beast sing. I sucked and nipped, eager to pierce the tenderness.

  Dropping my head lower, I found the softness of her breasts, pulling the pink tips between my lips, marbleizing them to hard pulsing points. Her rosy nipples deepened to a ruby red as I lavished first one and then the other, until she was keening with need, hands fisted in the sheets. It was then I let the beast out.

  Growling against her soft mounds, I couldn’t wait any longer. Slowly I pushed my shaft into her core. She moaned, arched up to meet me, taking my whole length quickly and deeply. We rode each other, reaching a crescendo of crashing waves. As she screamed her pleasure, my beast pricked her tender flesh, gently drinking richly and swiftly, sealing the wound almost in the moment it was made. Feeding my beast as well as my soul. Her rich blood was sweet ambrosia, honey to my lips. Before the break of dawn, I slipped from her bed and back to my sun protected rooms, but now they felt like a prison.

  Katrina shared a few of my secrets, but not the most important one. Few people can understand the vampiric way of life. And fewer still can accept it as a way of life. There can only be one true mate to share the vampire’s existence, a life mate like Lucius and Isabella. Could Katrina be my life mate? Could I steal her humanity? Her human existence?

  I was unprepared for that commitment, the responsibility of her death and the decision that could not be unmade. Some might think vampires can’t love, but they’d be wrong. We love as strongly and deeply as others, heightened emotions taking their toll, with memories that never fail. Love’s sweet embrace always as fresh as a newly bloomed rose, and love’s harsh death untempered by distance or time. My secret remained mine, untold, waiting for the time to be shared. I left the lady unaware, a memory of an unbridled time and shared love … and I did as the vampire always does … adapts.

  Part Three

  Once more, we’d been summoned to the head of the local Vampire Council, Magistrate Dumas, a lackey for the Hierarchy and more we worried. He inclined his pallid, slick head. Black veins filled with another’s blood coursed beneath the translucent flesh. “I asked if it was your decision to make, young one?”

  I stood my ground. The youngling had been my call and I wouldn’t give him up now. My mouth formed a thin, hard frown, and I shook my head.

  Quicker than a coiled viper, his hand crushed my throat.

  The Vampire Hierarchy sent us to this godforsaken place and now, I had to deal with a demented monster who appeared to find pleasure in my pain. Still, I had to wonder, why? Why the Draco family?

  Thoughts of another kind bled into mine, visions of destruction and death. Then, just as quickly, shields met my intrusions. Had I seen what I thought? The slavery of humankind?

  I glanced up at the ancient vampire, and his calculating eyes met mine.

  “Maybe I should just kill you and get it over with?” The Magistrate’s fist tightened, his gaze narrowed, and dagger-like fangs angled toward me.

  Chapter Fifteen

  We made our way to the central point of the Midwest, Illinois. The Vampire Hierarchy had not approved of this latest trip, but demanded it, stating that our presence was required in the city of Chicago. We had little choice but to accommodate their wishes. To go against the Council meant sure death, as we had learned with certainty, but why Illinois? The reason was unfathomable. It was hard to leave Louisiana, which offered one fascinating city after another. So far, nothing matched its equal.

  As the midnight flight circled over Chicago, not even London compared to the sprawling city with its massive buildings, the unfamiliar darkness of the stars, the instant press of humanity. Our family had traveled from place to place. Now here in Illinois, we hoped to stop our travels, to have a place to call our true home. With America’s great vastness, surely three people who desired autonomy could be lost. But it was not to be.

  The explanation for the Council’s request soon became apparent. For every requested destination, the Council’s minions either approved the entrance into a city or halted it, rerouting our journey if it caused a conflict with another vampiric family. Louisiana had been our longest stay at more than twenty years before leaving for parts unknown. The long-expected response from the Hierarchy arrived as spring turned to summer.

  As a rule, our family stayed strictly out of politics, vampire and otherwise, but our freedom was at an end. As darkness fell on a stifling June evening, the Council of the Vampire Hierarchy sent their representatives—the Draugen, remorseless golden-eyed guards—to oblige us to join them at the Hierarchal Command.

  These Hierarchal guards, normally claimed by a single benefactor and forced to suppress their desires in service of another, were in this case bound to the Council benefactor, Magistrate Dumas. But could one ever be sure when buying loyalty? More than one coup had occurred as we’d witnessed ourselves. The Draugens were vampires with few qualms about killing, a place for the sociopaths of our nature … a place where they could be monitored too. The worst of us if my opinion counted for anything, which it didn’t.

  The Hierarchal leader for Chicago, Magistrate Dumas, called for a meeting. We were taken to his suite of rooms, required to accommodate his wishes. And there we waited.

  *

  The Magistrate, an ancient vampire devoid of hair and jagged points for fangs, made his entrance with an aged lethargy. His actions slow and precise. His flesh appeared paper thin. On his exposed skin, a web of blue-black veins glowed beneath it, including his pale, bald head.

  “Magistrate Dumas, may I present the Draco family.” Lucius knelt, head lowered before the ancient vampire. A sign of respect, the baring of the vampire neck. One of the truest forms of death, the losing of one’s head.

  “Lord Draco, you may be wondering about the Council’s wishes? It has come to our attention that the city of Chicago is in need of governance.”

  Lucius stood, eyes uncertain as he glanced back at us, his speech faltering. “Magistrate … it was not our intention to enter the city … to intrude in another’s imminent domain. My apologies if this h
as been the case.” He bowed once more to the Magistrate.

  We had already observed the lack of leadership, and from talking to others of our kind in the Chicago area, soon discovered why. There’d been a battle between the two dominant families, the governing family, the Belagos, and the Sangreets who’d seemingly attacked the Belagos without provocation.

  The Council operated under the pall of the Hierarchy protection, and they stepped in, killing all the Sangreets as retribution, few escaped. The Council continued to manage matters in the city. A questionable option for those existing in the area. One never knew what might cause the Council to mete out punishment, just ask the Belagos or the Sangreets.

  “If the Council thought you were here to invade, it would not have been tolerated. By this time, you and your children would be no more. Now, Lord Draco, do you wish to quarrel with the Council?” the Magistrate enquired, and again I felt Lucius’s discomfort. What might wait for us, forced to do Council bidding?

  “No, Magistrate, it was not my intention to offend either. What would the Council wish of us?”

  “As I was saying,” the Magistrate’s harsh voice continued, “the city of Chicago needs a strong show of force, a governing family to look after vampire affairs as well as Council dealings, and you’ve proven yourself useful.” The unsaid part of our stay in Louisiana. “Your family has been chosen for this position. Do you or any members of your family wish to deny this request?” The Magistrate’s eyes focused, a glow resided deep in their recesses. I had the distinct feeling he was hoping one of us would. What had our family done, what was the sin committed? The Draugen tightened their stance and stepped closer, ready to act upon the Magistrate’s signal.

  “Of course not, Magistrate. The Draco family would be greatly honored to serve the Council in any way needed,” Luc lied.

  We’d spent years avoiding vampire politics, but that time was over. We were now embroiled in the belly of the Hierarchy and their dealings.

  “You, Lucius Draco, are to be the new Regent.” The Magistrate waved his hand in Lucius’s direction. “You may request guards from the armory or … do whatever you wish, I don’t want to be bothered.” He shrugged before lifting his head. “But know this, Council justice will be enforced as the Sangreet family discovered by their own actions. The Belagos suffered at their hands, the Sangreet languished at ours.”

  “Yes, Magistrate, we’ve heard of the killings. Has the reason for the Sangreet insurgence … ?” Lucius edged away from the old vampire, his distrust bleeding throughout the room.

  The Magistrate cut him off. “Do you question the Council motives, young one?” Again, the Draugen tightened around our family.

  “No, Magistrate, merely curious,” Lucius reassured.

  “No need to concern yourself with Council affairs,” he said, licking his colorless lips. “You’ll need a hostess for Council dealings. I assume that to be your wife.” His murky eyes fell upon Isabella even as his mouth rose in a sneer. “Will she be able to fulfill these duties?”

  Lucius glanced at Isabella, and she nodded her head. “Yes, Magistrate.”

  “And an enforcer, a law giver, to carry out Council justice as it is deemed necessary. I understand you have someone who can fulfill these duties? Or would you like me to assign someone with ah, let’s call it … moral ambiguity to your group?” His eyes fell upon my face, taking in my blue-grey sunglasses. Disgust stretched his cold, hard features. I could tell I wasn’t going to be a Council favorite.

  “No, Magistrate. My son, Ben, is more than ready to help with the duties.” Lucius placed himself between the Magistrate and myself. The last thing any of us needed was one of his spies looking over our shoulders. Trouble would be coming by the spades full.

  “Good … I can see we understand each other.” He eyed our small group, before he waved his hand again in dismissal. “Get out. I’m done, release them.” His guards backed away from the door, but before we could leave, he spoke his final words of wisdom. “Lucius Draco, do not disappoint the Council. We are fair, but we have limited tolerance.” Then he left the room.

  Though the Draco family was a small, it was also a just one. With the approval of the Hierarchy, we became the governing body of the city. Where there had been tense anticipation, now relief flowed from those in and around Chicago, you could almost hear the release of a pent up breath. The city was once again in powerful hands no longer belonging to the Council. Rebellion wasn’t an option, not for us or anyone in the city. That message had been sent to all quadrants. The city quieted, and an endless current of visitors streamed to our apartments with requests for intervention, countless meetings.

  Some of the human politicians called upon Lucius, mostly to gain support for one cause or another, thinking they dealt with some sort of politician instead of a potent vampire. Lucius was patient, probably much more than I with my limited tolerance for mischief-makers. Slowly we settled into the new roles with less privacy than before, but it wasn’t all bad either. No longer were we wanderers, Chicago became our permanent home. Suspicions of the Hierarchy and their maneuvers concerned me, the fates of the Belagos and Sangreets evidenced something nefarious underfoot. But what?

  The only other consideration was the criminal element contained within the city. Anton Vintonie, the local crime boss, brought himself to our attention. Nothing new, of course, humans often throw themselves into the middle of vampire business.

  Isabella was putting the finishing touches on our apartments, the bedrooms turned into sun-tight spaces with soft beds and other creature comforts. One of the vampires employed to help in our enforced governing came to her with a message from the Vintonie family leader. It seemed the man wanted to introduce himself, but for what reason? We had enough to worry about without human interference. Isabella showed him into Lucius’s study where he and I waited.

  He entered the room with his arm outstretched, his conniving nature apparent in his eyes.

  “Mr. Vintonie, it’s a pleasure, I’m sure.” Lucius greeted the man, taking his extended hand, unhidden disgust on Luc’s face.

  “Mr. Draco, the same back atcha.” Vintonie pumped Lucius’s arm with vigor, his shifty gaze moving around, taking in everything except the look on Lucius’s face. He was a smallish man, not quite meeting my shoulders. He had beefy hands and arms well versed in manual labors. A thick neck led to a round head with heavy jowls and short-cropped carrot colored hair. His expensive suit stretched to fit his trim body.

  “Thought I should come by, introduce myself. We do business in the same town and all.” He bounced on his toes, his crocodile grin grated on my already frayed nerves.

  Lucius met his grin with one of his own, showing no pleasure in this man’s presence. Vintonie should have realized his mistake, this was no place for a man of his bearing. Death was a constant companion of Anton Vintonie, someone he called a true friend. We didn’t want to be reminded of death’s presence. It was at home in our natures; we shared its intimate embrace.

  Human and vampire business intermingled on rare occasions. Vintonie seemed like the type to use whatever means necessary in his bid for more territory, more money, to his advantage even if it meant interfering where he shouldn’t. The one found to be infringing in vampire affairs became my responsibility. He was an astute man, and it broke across my wary senses he looked upon us as something other than human … maybe even preternatural and astonishment struck me. Surely I was overreacting to this man, unrealistic nonsense. Humans were forbidden the knowledge of our existence. For the first time, I didn’t want to trust my own accounting of the man who stood before us. He couldn’t know what we were, could he?

  We let him believe if he kept to himself we would leave him in peace. Unfortunately, sometimes humans are crafty, especially those of a criminal nature, and there was more going on than my family realized, I could sense it. Violence would not be tolerated and the perpetrators would be dealt with quickly and extreme prejudice, but what would happen if the violence came f
rom within our own circle?

  Lucius’s gaze narrowed as the man’s retreating back. There was something odd about the man. From the quizzical look on Luc’s face, he saw it too.

  “Something strange is going on here, Ben. I know I don’t have to tell you to keep your guard up. I don’t trust this human or the Council.” He inhaled deeply. “He has a faint odor about him, or maybe I’m mistaken … I could almost swear the slight scent of valerian emanated from him. Loupgarin hasn’t made his presence known in many years, but,” he hesitated, then shook his head before he continued, “be cautious, Ben. Something is not right here.”

  Loupgarin, my father’s maker who’d threatened him with death, and nearly succeeded in killing me. With the thought of the injury, my fingers found the place where, on a human, a scar would have remained if they’d survived. I’d been hoping Loupgarin had finally found an end to his unnatural existence. I guessed that wasn’t a reality.

  Luc paused long enough to capture my gaze. “I’ll never forget that odor,” he narrowed his eyes as he thought, “and it lingered about the man, I’m sure of it. But, how is that possible? Only vampires are affected by the weed. Humans have no use for it that I’m aware of.” His voice held a bit of bewilderment as he considered the man, his fingers tapped his desk. “Vintonie’s going to be trouble.”

  I could only nod in agreement. He seemed to present a dichotomy of information no human was allowed to have, knowledge of the vampiric existence. It was the one broken law for which the Council demanded the true death. Yet this human, Anton Victonie, seem to know the unknowable. And the Chicago area had been in Council hands prior to our arrival. Odd.