Dying to Live

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Dying to Live Page 9

by Annie Alvarex


  “If ya take the cold one, keepuh, she never lays eyes on Tamara again,” the hag said, swaying from side to side. “Is dat what ya want?”

  Pada knew too much. She knew I was a vampire, knew of Tamara and knew that Abby was a keeper and even though that little voice inside of me screamed for me to run and run fast, I yanked Abby toward me. “I have to try.”

  Abby closed her eyes. I prepared for a wicked argument, but I didn’t get one. When she opened her eyes, they glowed a bright gold.

  “I knew you wouldn’t abandon your beloved,” Abby spoke in a voice not her own, her words ringing together in a soft song. “I have waited a long time for you to come.” She fluttered her eyelashes.

  This, I was sure, wasn’t Abby talking and I’ve learned that Goddesses are tricky so I chose my words carefully. “I do this with you and you help me find Tamara alive, right?”

  “As you wish, but,” she paused, running her hands over Abby’s body, “you keep this one near you always. I like how she feels.” She traced the outline of my face with her finger.

  “Deal.”

  A sinister grin broke across her face.

  She then ripped my shirt off and kissed my breast, her teeth digging into my skin. “Whoa.” I pushed her back. “Don’t you know what foreplay is?”

  “Of course, my apologies,” she said and backhanded me so hard I landed against the wall. “Oh, this is better than I imagine,” she exclaimed. “You’re such a turn on!” She then leaped toward me.

  The impact rattled me, but not enough to keep me still, waiting for her to pounce on me. I slid to the floor and crouched. As she got close, I grabbed her shirt collar and swung her around, throwing her against the wall.

  “So forceful,” she said with a moan.

  That just seemed wrong. I wasn’t expecting her to say that, but I had agreed to this mess and I had to finish it.

  Her eyes glowed more brilliantly than before and her sinister smile scared the hell out of me.

  She sniffed the air and sputtered, “Where is it? Where is your hunger, bloodsucker?” Then she lunged.

  I was too slow. Her openhanded slap rattled my teeth and her nails scraped down my face, drawing blood. Shit! That hurt. The burning on my face washed over me and my eyes turned black. No, I hadn’t gotten used to the pressure of my eyes changing color. It was still too bizarre. I wanted to rip her throat out, but that would only hurt Abby, whose body Aisha, had taken over. Well, fuck me, I was running out of options.

  I hissed and rushed her, wrapping my arms around her waist. She struggled, bringing us to the floor and, lying on top of me, stuck her hand between my legs and squeezed my crotch.

  “You are going to be fun,” she gloated, licking my wounded face. “Oh, you’re delicious!”

  She had called my vampire and it had obeyed, arriving for the main part of her festivities. She rolled off and I sprinted to my feet, grabbing her arm, but again, I was too slow. She spun under my arm and had it locked behind my back, pressing her body tightly against mine. She ran her fingers through my hair, grabbed a handful and, pulled my head back, planting her warm lips against my cool neck.

  “I haven’t played like this in a very long time. I’m so wet.” She released her grip.

  I stumbled away from her. I understood! It was all a sexual game to her. The more I fought, the more she wanted me. The problem was that I was enjoying it, too. I could definitely lose track of time and play this game with her all night, but I had to find Tamara. Time to try new tactics.

  In my best attempt to make a boo-boo face, I stuck out my bottom lip and approached her slowly. She stared at me.

  “What’s the meaning of this? Are you done playing?”

  “Yes.” I cupped my hands around her face and held her while I pressed our lips together and unbuttoned Abby’s shirt.

  Her tongue teased mine, burning an intricate passion in me of all that was possible with her. I lost myself in the enormous pleasure that permeated my senses by her undivided attention. My thoughts of Tamara and my self-restraint faded away. I ripped her shirt off, caressing her breasts, feeling her nipples grow with my touch. I kissed her neck, running my tongue down her chest until I eased her swollen pink tip between my lips and relished its sweet savor. She moaned, scraping her nails down my back, awakening a dormant passion I had never felt, not even with Tamara. My world spun with desperate desire, a need that similar to my bloodlust, I had become a victim, too, and had to satisfy.

  Wrapping my arms around her waist, I laid us on the new rug Pada had provided. I felt Aisha’s body pressed against mine intensifying my need to satisfy her. I unzipped her jeans, sliding my fingers under her panties. Her wetness barely soothed my undeniable yearning. I felt as though my only purpose was to satisfy her every wish.

  “Show me your body,” she whispered, between kisses.

  An instantaneous reaction overwhelmed me. I stood, pulling off my jeans and waited for the slightest acknowledgement from her that she was pleased. Her approval came in the subtle form of her lip twitching to form a half-grin and I fell to my knees, tugging off her jeans. My tongue traced her leg up to the swollen mass that beckoned and ruled my senses. She spread her legs, my tongue parted her engorged lips, and I delved into her wetness, satiating my taste for her.

  Grabbing my hair, she led me within inches of her face, and slowly licked her juices from my lips. Then, bringing me to my knees once again, she knelt in front of me, spreading her legs wide and placing her back firmly against my chest. Her hand slid between our tightly cupped bodies, finding my waiting bud, and stroked it gently. My hands caressed her hips, then followed her curves to the sanctity of her desires, I slid my fingers deep inside her tight cunt.

  She moaned and her groin swayed forward. As if in a choreographed dance, I followed her movements, keeping to her rhythm and letting my fingers work their way through her tightness. Her head leaned back resting on my shoulder, her neck and thumping artery dangerously teasing my persistent appetite. Pressed so close to her, the loud, thunderous beat of her heart pushing her blood through her body captivated me and my hunger reared its fangs.

  “Don’t. Stop,” she panted while our sweaty, bodies moved in perfect harmony.

  Using my first two fingers like scissors, I held and rubbed her clit until her shivering shook my body.

  She screamed, “Drink.”

  In that instant, my orgasm crashed over me drowning me in a feeling of euphoria and I bit down piercing my points into her artery and drank while we came together.

  Gasping for air, she bent forward resting on her elbows. I watched her magnificent body rise and fall with each labored breath, and turned my attention back to her pleasure, but she grabbed my wrist as my fingers nestled through her pubic hair.

  “No,” her tone was stern. “We have business at hand.”

  I cuddled against her back, enjoying the softness of her skin and closing my eyes, I felt the heat of her orgasm diminishing into warmth.

  “Get off me!” Abby protested, finally returning to her real form, bucking under me. “Oh God! I can’t believe you did that with me…I mean her…and in my body!” She stammered onto her feet, pulling her jeans on. “Please get dressed,” her mood suddenly changed from bitching to melancholy.

  I put my jeans on and finding her ripped shirt, handed it to her. “Sorry. Things got out of control.”

  “You have no idea,” she said, inspecting the mangled mess. “You owe me a new shirt.”

  I felt terrible. Here I was having sex with Aisha in Abby’s body, ruining her shirt and still not having found Tamara.

  Pada entered the small room. “Da Goddess told me to bring ya dis,” she announced, handing each of us a black tee shirt.

  “Thank you.” Abby put her shirt on, tucking it into her jeans. Then she approached me and using her thumb, wiped a smear off my lip and sighed. “You fed from me—I mean her.” Her question was more of an accusation.

  I just couldn’t feel any worse so I lowered my he
ad, nodding. “Yes.”

  “Did I…did she take your blood, too?” Staring at me, she swallowed hard.

  “No, I don’t think so.”

  “What about these scratches?” She gently touched the wound that had already begun healing.

  “You—I mean—she scratched me, then licked my face. Why?” I pulled the tee shirt over my head.

  “Because you’re now bonded to her, and I’m her fucking vessel!” she yelled at me and then took a deep breath. “Don’t you see? They’re playing games with us, that’s what they do. You and I aren’t just pawns anymore. We’ve been promoted and now,” she lowered her voice, “now you must do her biding.”

  I was utterly confused. “What?”

  “Oh God.” She leaned against one of the ceremonial tables. “Try to follow me here, okay? The gods and goddesses play games with us, Izzy. They use humanity as a giant chess game, moving people and setting things into action to see what kind of results they get. And Aisha just claimed two more in her quest, us.”

  “You mean me, Tamara, Kaley, Jules…all of us are just a game to them?” I felt the life slowly drain out of me. All this time, I had been unsure that gods and goddesses exist and now I find out that they were just playing us.

  She pointed at Pada. “We humans, we each serve a purpose. But those of us that are special,” she said, waving her finger at us both, “we try real hard to stay out of their reach. And you shot that one to hell. Now we have to play.” She dropped her arm by her side in frustration.

  “She promised to help me find Tamara,” I barked, defending myself against what seemed like a horrific crime.

  “You dumb vamp. If she does, she has bigger plans for us. Deities don’t typically keep a human’s favor unless they have an ulterior motive. They use the typical you-didn’t-have-enough-faith-in-me-to-see-that-I-have-been-working-miracles-in-your-life bullshit line.”

  “Okay, so what now?” I glared at Pada, ready to make an example out of her if Aisha didn’t keep her word. “Do we sacrifice a chicken or something? You have enough of them out in the alley.”

  Pada’s face froze in horror. “No!” she finally managed to bellow. “They are only for rituals.”

  “Come on,” Abby took my hand, leading me out of Pada’s shop. “I have a feeling we need to go this way,” she said, pointing to the end of the alley as she pulled me along.

  “I wait for ya here,” Pierre called out as we turned the corner.

  This alley was no wider or cleaner than the road we just came off, with the exception that, there were no chickens here. For some reason, they all stayed on Pada’s street. Those poor, stupid, little birds, they didn’t have a clue about what was going to happen to them.

  “Over here,” she said, pulling on a plank of sheet metal that doubled as a door.

  The smell of ammonia hit me as I entered the warehouse, it crept inside my nasal cavity burning my lungs. Urine. That’s just great, but I pushed on. Blankets and food wrappers littered the floor. Vagrants obviously made their home within these flimsy walls.

  “So what were we doing here?”

  Abby jumped behind me, her heart hammering inside her chest. “That wall is watching us,” she panted, pointing directly ahead. “It has beady little eyes.”

  Okay, here’s a newsflash. I don’t like it when people use me as their personal shield. I may be a vampire, but shit scares the hell out of me, too! “Where?”

  “In that wall, over there. Don’t you see its eyes?” She pressed closer against me.

  I took a step forward and she latched her arms around my waist, following my footsteps. I honestly didn’t see anything on the wall, but I heard purring—a soft, delicate, low rumble emanating directly ahead of us. It figured that the only stone wall this place had, also had a tiny opening chiseled out of it, but big enough to trap a small kitten. “You mean that?” I pointed at the skinny kitten watching us.

  “Ah, you poor thing.” Immediately, Abby was out from behind her shield, reaching up to save the trapped kitten. As her hand got close, it hissed, snarled, and swiped at her. “Ouch,” she yelled, pulling her hand back quickly. “It bit me.”

  I laughed. It seems it didn’t want our help after all. “It didn’t bite you, it merely clawed you.”

  “Well.” She put her hands on her hips and looked at me. “Get it.”

  I rolled my eyes at her and reached for the clawed fiend, waiting to get swiped, but it didn’t. The kitten let me pull it out of the crook it was in, purring and licking my hand as I brought it down. Abby went to grab it and again, it hissed and snarled, then jumped out of my hands and ran away.

  She looked as though someone had killed her best friend. “Animals love me, I don’t understand.” She whined, rubbing the scratches it left behind.

  In the midst of all the action, I hadn’t noticed the tagged wall. “Look,” I said, showing her the Canal Street Warlocks graffiti. “Maybe we’re supposed to go to there?”

  “Yeah, maybe,” she said, sulking about the kitten attack.

  We heard the loudest, gut wrenching scream and saw the puffed up hairball running in our direction with King, the Shepherd, hot on its heels. I braced myself, I just knew what was coming next. The kitten took a giant leap, soared through the air, and landed on my shoulder, digging its needle-like claws into me for support. Yet again, something uses me as a personal shield. King came to a sliding stop a few feet from me barking, while the kitten hissed and spit.

  “Ah look, you made a friend,” Abby said with a pout.

  “King! Stop dat,” Pada yelled as she wobbled across the warehouse. “Stop dat, right now. I’m sorry, but King still has his mean steak when it comes to da cats. They tortured da poor thing when he was a pup.” Pada stopped and smiled. “I see da Goddess has given you a gift, cold one.”

  Yeah well, it was better than being called a bloodsucker so I didn’t protest. “I guess so,” I shrugged my shoulders and it dug its claws into me again.

  “She has been a hellion around here, not taking to anyone in particular. A real troublemaker, but I’m glad she picked ya.”

  “She?” I repeated.

  “She’s a Maine Coon, very rare for these parts and very opinionated. You should get along nicely with her.”

  “Yeah.” Abby agreed, chuckling.

  Zoe meowed.

  It was official. I had named her, but not of my choosing. The name that came to me was as clear as if she had yelled it from the rooftops.

  Chapter Six

  Sneaking Zoe, into the bed and breakfast was easy. She was so small, so black and so still that she blended right into my tee shirt. No one noticed there would be a third visitor staying with us. Pierre was nice enough to sneak some food and a litter box into the room for me. The basics were covered. Zoe could rest comfortably and safely in the room and Abby got the long, hot shower she had been wanting. Now it was time to find Tamara.

  Pierre waited for us outside. Seeing us come out of the B&B, he opened and held the limo’s door for us. “Ya smell like a patchy meadow full of flowers, ya feel better now, Miss Abby?”

  “Oh, yes. Thank you, Pierre.” She waved her hair behind her shoulder and wore a huge grin. “Much.”

  I sighed. Yes, she flirted with the driver. Not that I cared, but we had more important things to do.

  I settled into the backseat and Zoe jumped in my lap as I pulled the door closed. “Whoa. What are you doing here? I left you the room, baby girl,” I said, scratching behind her ears. “How’d you get out?”

  “Magic,” Pierre offered, paying attention to the stop and go traffic. Zoe curled up in my lap and slept the rest of the way.

  Pierre turned off Canal Street onto Lopez way, a residential area still recovering from Hurricane Katrina’s aftermath. Most of the quaint two-story Creole Cottages, were still boarded up and showing off the water line that had surrounded these timeless beauties. Torn and weathered flags hung off the balconies while the Search and Rescue’s marks adorned the once colorful
pastel walls. Pierre stopped the car next to a church and Zoe popped her head up looking around, stretched, yawned, then lay back down on the seat between Abby and me.

  “Dis is da place,” Pierre announced, leaning over to lock the passenger door. “Some very strange things happen here, but dis is where ya will find da one ya seek.”

  Abby and I looked at each other.

  “They be keeping her in da basement, but ya’d better hurry. Da lot of dem will come back soon.” And he did his ritual marking a cross across chest.

  Could it be this simple? Could he really have driven us directly to Tamara?

  “Well, wat ya waitin for? Go and hurry.”

  I didn’t think twice about it. I jumped out of the car and headed around the side of the church. Finding a door, but not any open windows, I decided that the best thing to do is walk right in. I put my hand on the doorknob, took a deep breath, and pushed the door open. To my surprise, a man dressed as a monk, greeted me.

  “Welcome, my child,” he said, with out-stretched arms. “We have been waitin’ ya.”

  I raised an eyebrow and relaxed my attack stance. Oh yeah, I had been ready to attack anyone or anything in my way. “Really?”

  He nodded. “Da Goddess had told us of ya’r arrival. Please follow me.” The hooded monk limped down the hallway and into a small room with a door against the far wall. “Take dis and take what rightfully belongs to ya, but hurry. Da Warlocks will return soon.” He handed me a heavy monk looking robe, turned and left the room, closing the door behind him.

  The wooden door creaked open and I wished I had someone to hide behind. The stairwell led into darkness and even though my eyes adjusted quickly, I couldn’t see where the stairs ended. Afraid that the first step would crumble under my weight, I gingerly stepped down. The step squeaked, rattling my nerves, but it held. Every descending step complained about the pressure it had to endure, and it’s not because I’m overweight. The wood was that old! I only hoped that Tamara was truly down here and the stairs would hold our combined weight coming back up.

  I picked up the smell of Patchouli. Damn, I really hate that stuff and after seeing Pada’s shop, I expected to see a shrine of some kind, nearby. What I didn’t expect to see was two white tigers shackled to a chained around their necks, ten feet from Tamara’s unconscious naked body. Seeing me, the tigers lunged, pulling tightly against their restraints. Their skin was taut around every bone with sunken in ribs and eyes. My gaze rolled over them and focused on Tamara, curled up in a fetal position, trembling. Unlike the tigers, her shackles were around each wrist. She looked too thin and had a streak of, Oh. My. God. Grey hair! A full fledge streak ran along the right side of her head and her face and lips were covered in dried blood.

 

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