Of Night and Desire

by Of Night

  “Richelle.”

  She kept her head down, setting up walls around her mind, not wanting to hear the looming voice.

  “Richelle, come to me.”

  “Leave me alone.” Covering her ears with her fists, she felt the walls around her mind crumble like dust under the onslaught of mental powers far beyond her own. “Please, leave me alone.”

  “Get in the car, Richelle!”

  “Please, leave me alone.” She whimpered at the first lance of pain that invaded her mind, commanding her attention, demanding her obedience.

  “Come to me, Richelle.”

  Her mind reached into the darkness, struggling to find the other part of her soul, to renew her strength. Her mind called to him. “Valya.”

  “He is dead.”

  “You lie! He lives.”

  “You belong to me.”

  “I belong to Valya.”

  “I will never let another have you.”

  “No! Let me go!”

  “You are mine!”

  “Get in the car!” She hadn’t seen Jonathon come around the car. He shook her by her shoulders, jostling her as he tried to open the door.

  “Richelle, come to me.”

  Taken aback, they both turned and faced the embodiment of evil— Luka cel Rau. From what she had learned, Richelle expected him to be a hideous monster, but it was quite the opposite. In an almost uncanny contrast to Valya, he had long golden hair that rustled in the breeze. And his eyes were an astonishing shade of blue, pale, almost translucent, like ice. Even the bitterness in his voice dripped like icicles.

  Pressing her back against the car, Jonathon shielded her body with his, standing between her and the Evil One. He raised a gun he pulled from his coat pocket and aimed for Luka’s heart.

  “She isn’t going anywhere with you!”

  Laughing haughtily, Luka tipped his head back, flashing his elongated canines. His chin dropped and he glowered at Jonathon.

  “And how will you stop me, human? With that?” He motioned to the gun in Jonathon’s hand.

  “Get in the car, Richelle. We’re leaving.” He walked backward, keeping Richelle behind him. When he reached the car he fumbled for the door handle. Luka took a step forward as Jonathon got the door open and shoved Richelle in, slamming it quickly behind her.

  Luka laughed again, sending chards of pain through her mind, stinging her face like frostbite. He took another step forward. Jonathon waved the gun in front of him.

  “Back off! I said we’re leaving!”

  Luka stopped and glared at him, his eyes sparking to gold, like fire, but it still did nothing to conceal the coldness that lurked behind the blue orbs. Stretching out his arms, he lowered his head and smiled darkly. He took a step forward.

  “I said back off!”

  He took another step toward the car. Jonathon cocked the hammer and took careful aim.

  “I’m warning you. Stay back or I’ll shoot!”

  “Richelle belongs to me,” Luka stated. He took a step forward before Jonathon fired a single shot, striking his mark. Luka’s smile faded as he staggered backward, his arms still open. After a few backward steps, he regained his balance. He looked down to where the bullet had struck, blood soaking the front of his shirt. He looked back up and smiled. Grabbing the opening of his shirt he ripped it open.

  They watched in stunned awe as Luka’s chest began to pulse, in and out, until a single silver bullet popped out of his chest, landing on the ground covered with blood and turning black from the contact with pure evil. Then, the skin seemed to meld together and seal the wound.

  “My God!” Jonathon exclaimed as he raised the gun and emptied the barrel into Luka’s chest. The results were the same. The silver bullets lay strewn at Luka’s feet, black and covered in blood. Luka raised his head and howled into the night. When his head lowered, he glared at Jonathon.

  “There is no God, only Luka cel Rau. And I will take what belongs to me,” he arrogantly commanded, his gaze fixated on Richelle.

  Dropping his gun to the ground, Jonathon backed away, going around the back of his vehicle when he bumped into a large body behind him. Startled, he jumped away and spun to see Pieter standing behind him, his arms tucked by his side, his stance casual, not the stance of a Protector defending his charge.

  “Pieter, thank God,” he murmured, casting his eyes between Pieter and Luka. “The silver bullets are having no effect on Luka. I need you to hold him off while I get Richelle out of here.”

  Pieter didn’t reply. He remained immobile, like a statue carved in granite.

  “Pieter,” he repeated. “Did you hear me? I need to get Richelle out of here.”

  Pieter cocked his head to one side and stared unblinkingly at him, as one would do when encountering some type of puzzle needing to be solved.

  “Pieter?” Perplexed, Jonathon could only gape at him. “Help me. Help Richelle.”

  Pieter began to move, circling around Jonathon, each time drawing him farther and farther away from the car. All the while he chuckled, a mocking sneer set on his grim visage. When he finally stopped, he quietly gawped at Jonathon, his cheek muscles ticking. Jonathon looked at Pieter’s eyes, the vivid blue fading to a pale, icy blue, the same as Luka’s.

  “Oh, my God.”

  “You’ve already been told. There is no God.” Pieter’s voice was as cold as his eyes.

  Richelle watched the scene unfolding before her with dread. They had been duped. She, Jonathon, Valya, Nicolae, and the Protectors had all been fooled. Pieter was the betrayer and was in liege with Luka. The Protectors drawn away by Believers. Jonathon would have to deal with Pieter himself.

  Pieter laughed and began to circle around Jonathon again, taking him even farther from the car, from Richelle, while Luka looked on.

  “Richelle! Get out of here! Now!”

  Richelle tried opening her door but was met with resistance. The door wasn’t locked. It just wouldn’t open. She experienced a dizzying nausea and felt the icy grip of evil holding the doors of the car shut. Looking out the front window, she saw Luka watching her, insidiously grinning at her. In spite of his handsome appearance, she was repulsed.

  “I can’t,” she hollered to Jonathon. “The door won’t open.” She tried to unroll the car window, thinking she could slip out, but she couldn’t get a firm grip on the handle with her shaky hands. She continued to struggle with the door, throwing as much of her weight as she could against it, trying to force it open, but it was no use. She was trapped.

  “You are mine,” Luka repeated as he slowly advanced.

  “Jonathon!” she screamed. “Help me!” Her body broke out in a cold sweat. Unable to control her hands shaking, she started beating against the window, believing she had the strength to shatter the tempered glass. “Jonathon, please!”

  Reaching into his pocket, Jonathon pulled out a dog whistle and blew. Pieter began to laugh, low at first but then wildly, sounding like a rabid hyena.

  “Do you think that mangy lupine will be able to save you?” Pieter taunted.

  Nonchalantly, Jonathon shrugged as he replied, “You never know.”

  “You’re a fool.”

  “I’ve been called worse.”

  “You humans. You believe you have the right to stand beside an Immortal as an equal. Humans are nothing!” Pieter spat, malice dripping from every acerbic word. “You are dogs! You’re only good to trail at your master’s heel and serve him.”

  Jonathon roared in rage as the words hit their mark. Pieter laughed mockingly. Jonathon’s anger did not deter him as he continued his taunting.

  “You should fall on your knees before your master, Luka, and beg him to spare your life, you worthless cur!”

  Jonathon lunged at Pieter and tackled him midsection, sending him backward to land with a thud on the ground. Richelle was screaming from the car as Jonathon threw a right and then a left cross that landed squarely on Pieter’s jaw.

  Pieter retaliated by placing his hands up
on Jonathon’s chest and using his Vampyre strength, propelling him through the air to land on the back of the car. Rolling off the trunk, stunned, Jonathon staggered to his feet prepared to do battle. Unsteady on his feet, he reached down and pulled a dagger from his bootstrap.

  Banging on the car window, Richelle began to shout.

  “No, Jonathon! Get away! Run! Run!”

  Pieter drew back his lips in a vicious snarl, revealing his fangs in intimidation. In the blink of an eye, the pale blue orbs became blood red as he glowered at Jonathon.

  “No, you are not dogs,” Pieter mocked. “Humans are nothing more than cattle, the blood on which Immortals feed. And right now, I’m starving.”

  Jonathon switched knife positions, the blade overhead so he could thrust it downward into Pieter’s heart, and charged forward. Pieter grabbed his wrist to prevent the killing blow and used his other hand to seize Jonathon by the throat. Jonathon gasped for air. Vainly, he grasped Pieter’s wrist, attempting to pull his hand away from his throat. It only resulted in Pieter tightening his grip.

  “Please, no!” Richelle cried from her makeshift prison. She turned to Luka, nearly upon her. “Please, release him, and I will go with you.”

  Luka laughed in disdain. “You bargain with what is already mine.”

  Richelle turned back toward Jonathon, tears of frustration and sorrow streaming down her face. Jonathon was going to die, and there was nothing she could do to stop it. “Oh, Valya, where are you?” She looked toward the sky as if he would magically appear and end this horror.

  Luka’s laughter still hung in the night air when Shadow attacked from behind, his jaw clamping on Luka’s neck and changing his laughter to howls. Shadow took his quarry to the ground, biting and tearing at Luka. Taking advantage of the disruption of his power, Richelle opened the door and flew out of the car to try and help Jonathon.

  Pieter twisted Jonathon’s hand until the dagger fell from his grip and landed on the cement with a heartbreaking clink just as Richelle rushed over and tried to pull his hand from Jonathon’s throat.

  “Let him go, you monster!” Richelle screamed as she tried desperately to loosen the hold he had on Jonathon, but she didn’t have the strength.

  Jonathon struggled to speak, but his words came out as piteous gurgles. Pieter grinned evilly and probed Jonathon’s final thoughts. His laugh was a vile cackle, revealing how truly treacherous he was by nature.

  “You truly are a fool to fall in love with your friend Valya’s woman.”

  Jonathon closed his eyes as Richelle continued to pull at Pieter’s hand to pry his fingers loose and free Jonathon. “Know this, you pathetic excuse of existence,” Pieter sneered. “Neither you nor Valya will have Richelle. She is to become the Mistress of Tower of the Red Dragon. She will become Luka’s bride, fulfilling his every sexual desire while Valya watches on, unable to protect or save her. Valya will die and Richelle will become the instrument of destruction as Luka takes his rightful place as Ruler of the World.”

  Pieter pulled Jonathon in closer, almost nose to nose. Richelle could smell the foul scent of death lingering on his breath.

  “And, as for you, you wanted to give Richelle your heart. Let me help you.” Pieter’s condescending tone made his words ugly, but not as ugly or as loathsome as his meted actions.

  Releasing Jonathon’s wrist, he pulled his arm back, his fingers coming together to form a point, and with the speed of a bullet, he drove his hand into Jonathon’s chest. Blood splattered over Richelle’s face and arms. Her screams of horror joined Jonathon’s screams of agony. Pieter dug his hand in deeper, twisting it around before he ripped Jonathon’s heart out. He held it out to Richelle, an offensive and sickening gift.

  Richelle continued to scream, fisting her hands in her hair while she backed away from Pieter. Unable to put up her mind blocks quick enough, she felt every agonizing and tortuous moment of Jonathon’s murder. She could do nothing to prevent it and nothing to save him. She tripped and fell, landing on her derriere as she tried to back away from the abominable scene.

  Pieter’s attention was now focused on Richelle. Without a thought, he tossed aside Jonathon’s lifeless body as if it were nothing more than yesterday’s trash. He held out his hand, the mass of muscle still beating as he offered it to Richelle.

  “Take it, Richelle,” he jeered. “It is his heart he wanted so desperately for you to have.”

  She continued to back away along the ground as Pieter advanced with Jonathon’s heart held out in front of him.

  “You don’t want it?” Pieter jeered. He pulled his hand back, bringing the heart toward his face. “Ah, well. To the victor of the hunt go the spoils.” He drew back his lips and sank his fangs into the heart she had rejected, taking the last of Jonathon’s pure life spirit as sustenance, relishing the surge of malevolent energy he found in the taking of an innocent’s life.

  She screamed, scrambled to her feet, and turned to run away. As she reached the car, she was met by another horrific sight. Luka was bent over her limp black wolf, his fangs fastened ruthlessly to his neck. Shadow’s legs were still twitching as Luka gorged himself on her beloved companion. She screamed in revulsion, drawing Luka’s attention as he released his hold on Shadow. He leered at her, his face covered in blood.

  “You are mine.”

  She turned the other way to escape, but ran into Pieter’s large frame and was engulfed by his massive arms. The pain caused by his touch and all his degenerative thoughts and emotions battering her mind in an unrelenting barrage blinded her. She was so overcome by the onslaught of horrid images, she was barely aware of Luka’s presence behind her until his hand snatched her by the hair, yanking her head back and baring her throat to him.

  Like a viper, his fangs slashed through the delicate tissue where her neck and shoulder blade connected. Gripping Pieter’s biceps, her fingernails raked against the sinewy muscles as she endured the lacerating torture and cruelty from her faceless attacker. Her feeble attempts to break free from Luka’s bite resulted only in his tightening his grip as he voraciously fed on her heated blood.

  Her thoughts turned to Valya while she suffered the sadistic passion and excruciating pain of Luka’s bite, trying to block out her captor’s spiteful intentions. Visions of Luka touching her, replacing Valya as her lover, were more than she could stand. She tried to hold onto the remembrances of their love, imagining that it was Valya touching her, loving her, taking her blood.

  As the agony of being held by the two dark demons became more than she could bear, she was overcome by an unnatural languor. Bright lights burned behind her eyelids, and she succumbed to the pain, collapsing into blessed oblivion.

  The last image she saw was Pieter’s face covered with the blood of one of the finest men she had ever known.

  Chapter 14

  Richelle awoke slowly, feeling a bit dazed and lightheaded, like she had been asleep for a week. Sitting up in the bed, she tentatively ran her hand over the ache on the side of her neck. She felt two puncture wounds, the skin around them being extremely tender.

  She sat up with a start to find herself in a large ornate bed with lewd and lascivious carvings along the heavy headboard. She rubbed her temples as she tried to remember where she was and how she got there. For that matter, she tried to remember who she was. This whole scene seemed surreal, like déjà vu as she struggled with jumbled thoughts that held no rhyme or reason.

  Feeling cold, she looked down and, with a gasp, grabbed a corner of the sheet to cover her chest. The blood red sheets looked obscene against her alabaster skin, but she had no choice but to wrap them around her as she was naked, her clothes nowhere to be seen. But she did notice some flitting about in the shadows by faceless figures.

  “Who’s there?” she yelled, scooting back against the headboard nervously. Three young women emerged from the shadows. They were all voluptuous, exotic beauties, although there was an eerie, haunting quality to their attractiveness that left her unsettled.

/>   “Why, it’s only us, my dear,” the blonde said. Her voice was as soft as silk, but it still grated Richelle’s nerves.

  “Who are you?” she asked, not really wanting to know.

  “We serve the master,” the brunette responded.

  “Yes, the master,” the redhead chimed in. She came over and began stroking Richelle’s hair. Richelle flinched away, not wanting to be touched by any of them. But they closed ranks around her, crowding her. “We are here to serve you.”

  “Serve you.”

  “By the master’s command.”

  “His command,” they all echoed.

  They kept touching her hair, stroking her skin with cold fingers that felt like spiders crawling on her skin.

  “You are very lovely, my dear.”

  “Yes, very lovely,” the brunette said as she leaned in and kissed Richelle’s cheek. Her lips were ice cold.

  “You will become our sister.”

  “Our sister,” the redhead repeated. She licked Richelle from cheek to temple while her blonde counterpart kneeled on the edge of the bed, leaning into Richelle, who retreated as far away as she could. She pressed hard against the carvings, trying to avoid their intimate touches.

  “What’s the matter, my dear?” the blonde asked as her hand caressed Richelle’s cheek. “Don’t you like us?”

  “We like you.”

  “Yes, we like you very much,” the redhead agreed, her hot breath singeing Richelle’s neck. The brunette reached out and fondled Richelle’s breast through the sheet. Drawing back, Richelle smacked the hand away and then slapped the redhead.

  “Get away from me!”

  All three backed away, hissing and baring their fangs. The blonde snatched Richelle by the throat as Richelle clutched at her fingers, trying to pull the icy claw away.

  “What is the matter, my dear?” the blonde rasped gravelly. “Don’t you like us?”

  “Don’t worry,” the brunette continued leaning in. Grabbing Richelle’s chin, her blood red nails scraped and scratched Richelle’s delicate skin. “You will like us in a moment.”