The Sacrifice

by Evangeline Anderson

  “Long may the Sacrifice continue!” the crowd shouts back. I try to join in the shout but my voice seems to be stuck in my throat. Aiden James is scanning the Glen as he talks but those cool gray eyes keep coming back to me. I wish I could hide—I want to duck behind Lexy who is so much taller than me but somehow I can’t move.

  “As most of you know, your old Sovereign, the venerable Zandor Quaid, who served long and well for over two decades, has now gone to his final rest.” Aiden James bows his head for a moment in respect. When he looks up, his eyes flash pale fire. “Now the Vampire Council has chosen me as your Sovereign and as such, I demand my Sacrifice!”

  The crowd starts to chant. “Sa-cri-fice. Sa-cri-fice.” I see several females, who are closer to the stage than I am, leaning forward eagerly. Clearly they wouldn’t mind giving their all to the hot new vampire overlord. I, on the other hand, am shrinking back, trying not to be seen. But still those gray eyes pick me out of the crowd.

  Aiden James raises his hand and silence falls immediately over the rowdy supes. “There are many ways of finding the appropriate Sacrifice,” he says, still looking at me. “Some Sovereigns chose to hold a lottery. Some consult an oracle to learn the name of the right female. Some even brew divining potions, though this sort of magic is best left to our lovely witches.”

  Lexy and the other witches around us hoot and cheer and fellow witch yells, “Witches do it on a broomstick!”

  Somebody else yells back, "Witches do it with a broomstick. Or is that a dildo? I always get those two mixed up."

  "So do the witches," a satyr says, causing a general roar of laughter.

  "You want me to strap the stick on and come after you?" the first witch asks, making a mock threat. "I'll show you exactly how magical my broom can be."

  More laughter and catcalls follow but I can’t join in their excitement. I feel almost sick with fright—the divination potion—he’s talking about me. About us, this afternoon in the shop! I’m sure of it.

  The new Sovereign raises his hand again for silence. Once again, a hush falls. “I, however,” he continues, “Need none of these methods to assist me. I know the name of my chosen Sacrifice.”

  From the corner of my eye, I see several of the gorgeous fairy girls primping their hair and smoothing their iridescent wings. Clearly they think one of their number is about to be chosen—as always. I think so too—at least I fervently hope so. I hope—

  I become aware that the soft murmuring around me has stopped. Even worse, everyone in the entire crowd seems to be looking at me. I realize that in my desperate concentration on the fairy girls, I have missed something very important.

  “What?” I hiss at Lexy, who’s staring at me as though I’ve suddenly grown a second head.

  “Oh my Goddess, Emma…” She shakes her head, unable to go on.

  Then the deep, commanding voice of the new Sovereign booms from the platform once more. “Emma Krist, come to me. Come take your place at my side.”

  No, it can’t be. It can’t. But somehow it is. Aiden James is looking directly at me and so is every other person in the entire Glen. It’s an introvert’s worst nightmare and it’s happening to me.

  “Go! Go on, he already called you twice,” Lexy hisses, giving me a little shove toward the stage. I stumble clumsily and she grabs my arm, somehow keeping me upright. Her perfectly shaped fingernails bite into the bare skin of my upper arm but I barely feel the pain. “Hurry,” she says urgently.

  Somehow I manage to put one foot in front of the other and make my way to the stage. I feel like a clumsy little kid who has somehow found her way into the adult party and is now being punished for her intrusion. Aiden James watches me every step of the way, which doesn’t help a bit, I can tell you.

  I get to the stage and I’m about to head for the stairs on one side but James apparently can’t wait for that. Leaning down, he slides his hands under my arms and picks me up as though I weighed no more than a doll. Then he sets me down beside him and firmly takes my hand.

  I feel a shock go through me again as he interlaces our fingers and nods to the crowd. They are murmuring uncertainly and several of the fairy girls look pissed. How dare the new vampire Sovereign pick a dud over one of them?

  That’s right—a dud. I’m a dud! I think and a sudden rush of sweet relief floods me. I just have to tell him this—that I have no magic—and surely he’ll realize what a poor choice I am. After all, one of the Sacrifice’s main purposes is to feed her master’s power. (I don’t like to think about what other appetites she’s supposed to feed.) But if I don’t have any magical power of my own, how can I possibly augment Aiden’s? It’s impossible and I feel sure that as soon as I get a chance to explain, he’ll let me go and pick someone else.

  “Aiden,” I hiss at him from the corner of my mouth. “Uh, Mr. James, I mean.” I’m honestly not sure what to call him.

  “What is it, Emma?” To my intense discomfort, he stops looking at the crowd and turns his full attention on me, staring at me as though we were the only two people in the world.

  “I…” I swallow hard and hear a little clicking sound in my dry throat. “I just think there…there’s been some mistake,” I stammer.

  “Oh?” He raises one eyebrow at me. “And why is that?”

  “I…I’m a dud,” I say and it’s never been harder to get that word out. I hope the people in the crowd can’t hear me admitting to my magical incompetence but from the spiteful glee on some of the fairy’s faces, I’m pretty sure they can. Aiden James is still just staring at me so I have to elaborate. “I don’t have any magical power,” I explain.

  “Yes, I know what a ‘dud’ is, Emma,” he says patiently. “But that description does not fit you in the least.”

  “Yes, it does,” I say desperately, still hyperaware that every eye in the Glen is trained on the two of us. “I’ve never been able to work a spell in my entire life. I know herbs and their magical properties but, well, that’s about it.” I shrug uncomfortably. “So I can’t be the one you want. There’s no way I could help, uh, feed your power because I don’t have any of my own.”

  His gray eyes flash silver in the deepening twilight. “Who says I want you for your power, Emma? The Sacrifice gives her master far more than that.”

  “I…but…I…” The dark promise in those predatory eyes has my heart pounding against my ribs. “Mr. James…Sovereign…”

  “That’s correct, I am your Sovereign, in more ways than one,” he growls softly. “And as such, I will put up with no more backtalk. You, Emma Krist, are the female I choose. The only one I want. I will have no one else by my side this first year of my reign.”

  “Oh,” I whisper faintly. Well, so much for the idea that he’ll let me go because of my magical defects. His eyes are boring into mine and I am powerless to look away. My knees feel like jelly. “All right,” I whisper at last.

  “The correct response is ‘Yes, Master,’” he says softly.

  “Yes, M-master,” I repeat, only stumbling over the words a little.

  “That’s good. Very good, Emma.” He strokes my cheek gently and the touch of his large hand seems to start a slow fire under my skin. “A good first step. You must submit to me in this, as in all things. Do I make myself clear?”

  “Very clear…Master,” I add hastily.

  He nods approval. “Very well. Then bare your throat for my pleasure.”

  My insides clench with a mixture of fear and longing. Oh Goddess, I can’t believe this. He’s going to bite me, claim me as his in front of the entire supernatural community. And there’s nothing I can do to stop it. To be honest, I’m not even sure I want to stop it anymore. There’s something about Aiden James—he’s overwhelming.

  Slowly I tilt my head to the side, baring my throat for him. He leans toward me and I can smell his scent—a dark, spicy musk that is entirely masculine and completely intoxicating… But then he draws back, frowning.

  “What?” I look up at him uncertainly. Has
he changed his mind? Is he going to let me go after all?

  “Do you not know that you are forbidden to wear anything around your neck at the Sacrifice Ceremony?” he asks me sternly.

  “I…but I’m not,” I protest. “I don’t have on a necklace.”

  “But you have this.” He fingers the loop of silky blue fabric twisted around my throat.

  “It…that’s part of my halter,” I protest, putting a hand to my neck protectively. “And it’s not that big. I’m sure you can just, uh, work around it—can’t you?”

  His face darkens. “You have much to learn about respect and submission, Emma. Take it off.”

  “What? No way!” I cross my arms over my chest. “I can’t…can’t be topless in front of this crowd.”

  “Many others are.” He nods briefly at the female weres, their bare breasts jiggling in the moonlight.

  “I’m not like them,” I protest. “I can’t.”

  “Are you refusing me?” he demands, his eyes flashing again. “Think long and hard before you answer, Emma. And remember that any defiance you offer me will be punished.”

  “Am I refusing to go topless in front of the entire Glen? Yes…yes, I am.” I lift my chin and glare at him, my heart jackhammering in my chest. “And I don’t care about punishment as long as you punish me in private.” I keep my voice barely above a whisper, for his ears alone. I sense there’s only so much I can get away with and shouting defiance of my new lord and master for the entire supernatural community to hear is definitely crossing the line.

  His eyes narrow but he nods, as though I’d just confirmed something he’d been thinking about me. “Very well. I will take blood from your wrist instead of your throat. But know this, Emma—you will be punished for your disobedience. And you will learn to submit to me before our time together is through.”

  I can’t stop myself from shivering—his voice is so cold I feel like frost crystals are forming on my skin. Without any further warning, he takes my hand and raises it to his mouth. Looking out at the crowd, he says, “I claim this female as my Sacrifice. She is mine and no other male may touch her so long as I own the rights to her body and soul.”

  Then he opens his mouth and his fangs seem to grow impossibly long and sharp in the moonlight. I try not to cry out when he sinks them into the tender bracelet of blue veins that runs along the underside of my wrist, but I can’t help emitting a muffled shriek. That hurts.

  It wouldn’t hurt so much if you were open to me. If you were willing to submit.

  The soft, deep voice in my head startles me. How did that happen? Does he have some other magic I’m not aware of? Then the pain is suddenly replaced with intense pleasure. I gasp as it floods me, stroking my nipples until they’re tight with desire and sliding between my pussy lips like rough, demanding fingers. My spine arches and my hips thrust involuntarily forward, reacting to the phantom pleasure. I can’t help myself—I’m melting into a puddle of lust. Wet and panting. Wanting more. But more what? What the hell is going on? What’s happening to me?

  I’m showing you how it can be. Next time don’t make me force it.

  Abruptly the pleasure ends, as though it was cut off by a knife. I become aware that the crowd is roaring approval and everything seems to be spinning around me. Why am I so dizzy? Surely he hasn’t taken that much blood. So why—?

  The world starts to tilt, skewing crazily sideways as he pulls at my wrist, drinking me down. Then, as suddenly as they pierced me, his sharp fangs withdraw. Strong arms catch me before I can fall face first onto the wooden stage. Aiden James lifts me easily, cradling me against him with one arm.

  “I declare this Sacrifice acceptable,” he thunders, causing the crowd to roar even louder. “Celebrate in whatever way you choose,” he continues. “I go to claim what is rightfully mine.”

  Then he turns and strides off the stage, taking me with him.

  Chapter Four

  I lie helpless in his arms, overcome with pain and pleasure and still in shock over the events of the last ten minutes. Did that really just happen? Did the new Sovereign really just claim me—plain, mousy little dud of a witch Emma Krist—as his sacrifice? It doesn’t seem real…doesn’t seem possible.

  It’s only when the vampire deposits me in a waiting limo and climbs in after me that it really begins to sink in. This is real…this is happening. Right here and right now, I have suddenly become someone’s real life sex and blood slave. I am in bondage to the new Sovereign and there’s nothing I can do about it.

  I sit up slowly and look at Aiden James, who is staring intently back at me. “That was quite a display of defiance you put on,” he remarks. His deep voice is soft but there is something in his eyes that makes me shiver.

  “If you expect me to say I’m sorry, you’re going to be disappointed.” I don’t know where I get the courage to speak like this to him. Maybe it’s just a vague feeling I have that if I don’t stand up to him now, I never will and he’ll run roughshod over me for an entire year. Goddess, an entire year! I’m stuck with him for an entire year.

  “I could make you beg to apologize,” he says. “But I won’t—not now.”

  I’m frankly surprised at this. “Why not?” I blurt before I think.

  He raises an eyebrow at me. “Are you complaining that I don’t choose to make you grovel?”

  “No, no,” I say hastily. “But you just…you went on and on about punishing me. I didn’t…didn’t think you’d let me out of it so easily.”

  “Oh, I’m not,” he says casually. “Make no mistake about it, Emma, you will be punished for your insolence. Just not right now.” He looks at me speculatively. “As for my reasons for the delay, I find that anticipation heightens any punishment. Also…I find myself intrigued by your modesty. Any other woman in the Glen would have gladly stripped herself when I demanded it. Yet you refused.”

  “I’m shy,” I say stiffly. His promise of future punishment has my pulse pounding with fear but I try not to show it. “I don’t…don’t do that kind of thing.”

  “You mean you don’t show your body?”

  I swallow hard and nod. “I mean maybe if I were tall and skinny like my cousins but I’m not so I don’t want to…” Realizing I’m babbling, I make myself stop.

  He nods slowly. “I see, though I think there’s more to it than that. Has it ever occurred to you that not every male finds the ‘tall and skinny’ type arousing?” His eyes burn into mine. “Back when I was made a vampire, women had curves—real curves. Full breasts and hips…” His eyes roam over my body, making me blush and try to cover myself. “A man misses such things,” he murmurs, almost to himself.

  I don’t know how to respond to this—is Aiden James actually saying he prefers his women short and chunky to tall and supermodel thin? Before I can think how to phrase the question, he is leaning forward to give directions to the limo driver.

  “Where are we going?” I ask, as the long black car starts smoothly on its way.

  “Home,” he says calmly.

  “Your home or my home?” I ask, hoping fervently that he’s just going to call it a night and drop me off at my apartment. We can always get into the whole punishment and submission thing the next time we get together, right? But Aiden’s next words shatter my half-formed hopes.

  “My home is your home now,” he says. “You will live in my house, eat at my table, and sleep in my bed for the duration of your term as Sacrifice.”

  “What?” I stare at him. “But…but what about my clothes?”

  “I’ll send someone for them.”

  “My… my plants. Someone has to water them.”

  “I’ll send someone to do both.”

  I try again. “My job at the shop? Can I still work there during the day?”

  “I’m afraid not.” He gives me an annoyingly superior smirk. “Serving your new master is a full time job.”

  I want to say that he’s not my master, but unfortunately that’s not true—he is. And besides, it would s
ound so childish. Like saying, 'You’re not the boss of me,' or something equally immature. Still, I grope for more reasons why I shouldn’t be tied to him twenty-four/seven.

  “But my family—I’m the only one who works the shop on a regular basis,” I say. “Without me there, one of the other witches will have to stop practicing the craft in order to run it. That’s a loss of income.”

  “Your family will be more than adequately compensated.” Aiden sounds almost bored. “Is there anything else?”

  I try one last time. “My class—Advanced Herbology. I take classes at night. Can I—”

  He frowns. “When you’ve proven to me that you know the true meaning of submission then and only then will you be allowed to resume your coursework.”

  “But I paid good money for that class,” I protest. “And one of the grading requirements is attendance. If I miss too much I’ll fail.”

  “Well then…” He gives me a lazy smile. “You’d better learn to submit soon, hadn’t you?”

  Suddenly I am furious—he thinks he has me sewn up in a neat little bag, doesn’t he? “Let me tell you something, Master,” I say, leaning forward and pointing a finger at his broad chest. “If you think I’ve got nothing better to do than bow and scrape and dance attendance on your every whim, you’re wrong.”

  His eyes narrow. “Is that so?”

  I sense I’m going too far but I don’t care. “Yeah,” I say sarcastically. “That’s freaking so. And if you expect me to enjoy jumping through your ridiculous hoops and fall in love with you and beg for your approval to do anything I want—”

  “This has nothing to do with love,” he snaps, cutting me off. “It’s about dominance and submission and that’s all.” He leans forward until I shrink back. He is crowding me, getting into my personal space. “And believe me, Emma, I have a damn good reason for demanding that you submit to me.”

  “Would that reason be that you’re some kind of a sexual sadist?” I say but my voice comes out in a breathless squeak instead of the strong, fearless tone I hoped it would.