Amaranthine Special Edition Vol I

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Amaranthine Special Edition Vol I Page 54

by Naylor, Joleene


  And then Jorick was there. He kicked the thing and sent it sailing down the corridor, where it crashed into the metal doorframe. Wordlessly, he caught Katelina’s arm and righted her quickly. “I’ll finish him.” Then he turned and started for the creature, while Katelina stayed crouched low to the floor. Her eyes moved past him and looked through the metal door, to the room beyond.

  She wished she hadn’t looked.

  The room was large and stone, with rich hangings on the walls. A golden fire pit sat in the center with flames dancing wildly inside of it. Black pillars stood at the room’s corners, edged in gold at the tops and bottoms, and fur rugs were scattered over the concrete floor. Another metal door was set in the far wall, in a direct line from the one that stood open. On either side of it stood large, muscular vampires with dark skin, who wore only knee length skirts of tan. Their naked, oiled chests were like a stack of tightly packed muscles. Despite their imposing presence, the thing that drew Katelina’s unyielding attention was the vampiress in the fur draped chair.

  Kateesha sat like a queen on a throne. Her dark hair was pulled back from her face and fell around her shoulders in long coils. She wore metal arm cuffs and bracelets, and a dress of pale gold. It was tight across her breasts, and fell in long folds to her feet. Her head was held high, her face haughty, and beneath one eye she’d painted three red stripes. She was just as beautiful, and just as terrifying, as Katelina remembered, if not more so.

  Kateesha stood slowly, her eyes leveled at Jorick’s approach. He came to a stop at the doorway and lifted the ruined mess into the air. Kateesha smiled as the thing whimpered and, without a word, Jorick effortlessly pulled his heart out. He held it up so Kateesha could see it, then crushed it in his fist and flung the ruined mass at her feet. “The time has come, Kateesha. Malick can’t save you this time.”

  Kateesha laughed softly and met Jorick’s scorching gaze, challenging him. She held her arms open and her golden bracelets flashed in the firelight. “Jorick, Jorick, Jorick.” She stepped away from the chair and glided to him, her hips swaying hypnotically. “I knew you’d come. You never could resist me.”

  She stopped before him and inhaled the scent of death that clung to him. Sensually, she trailed a single finger along his jaw as she spoke, “It’s not too late, you know. I’m willing to forget that.” She nodded towards the bodies that littered the floor. Her eyes paused on Katelina for a second and then moved back to Jorick’s face. “All you have to do is admit that you want me.” She stepped back into the room and drew him with her. “Just say you desire me.”

  Katelina crouched in the corridor where she’d been left, her heart frozen in her chest. Kateesha’s voice sang in her head, “You should have surrendered long ago. How could he want you?” Her silent laughter was silky, but it stopped and she barked, “Look at me!”

  It was a command and Katelina found herself forced to obey. She watched as Jorick followed the dark vampiress deeper into the stone room. A smile curved across Kateesha’s lips and the firelight flickered on the swell of her ample breasts.

  A strangled noise escape Katelina’s throat. She was suddenly filled with the sick certainty that Jorick would give in to Kateesha. Their eyes were locked, and power and strength emanated from the vampiress in waves. How could anyone resist her? How could Jorick resist her?

  Her fears became reality when he slowly took Kateesha’s hand in his. The blood of her followers smeared on her skin, but her smile widened. “Yes,” she whispered huskily. “Yes-”

  Her words broke off in a howl of pain and surprise when Jorick twisted her hand sharply. “The only thing I want is to see you dead,” Jorick snapped and threw her bloodied hand away from him. “Malick should have left you a slave in the brothel!”

  Kateesha’s beautiful face twisted into something inhuman and Katelina looked away, terrified. “How dare you?” the dark goddess screamed. She stepped back and began to circle him slowly. “I tried to give you a chance, Jorick, but you threw it away.” A thought occurred to her and a cruel smile twisted across her lips. “I want you to know that I’ll torture your human until she’s nothing but an empty vessel, not even fit to feed upon!”

  Jorick scoffed. “I believe you tried that already, and we saw how well your plan worked.”

  “My plan?” Kateesha absently wiped her soiled hand across her dress. “That wasn’t my plan,” she purred. “That was simply idiots improvising. They were only supposed to bring her here so I could torture her - while you watched,” she added with an extra burst of viciousness.

  Jorick growled low in his throat and Kateesha sprang. She slammed into him and flung him across the room, as though he was a rag doll. He crashed into the wall and slid down to the floor. Katelina wanted to run to him, but she was frozen in place by sheer terror. The oiled guards looked like they wanted to join the fight, but it was uncertainty, not fear, which held them back.

  Kateesha crossed the room slowly, her glittering eyes on her enemy. Before she could reach him, he was up. With a hissing snarl, he threw himself at her and they crashed together. Time seemed to move in slow motion as they fought; ripping and slashing.

  They broke apart, chests heaving, and glared at one another. Kateesha’s golden dress was torn and smeared with blood. Jorick’s nose ran red, and there were three long gashes on his face from Kateesha’s nails.

  The respite lasted only a moment, and then the vampires were tangled together again. Jorick trapped her in a headlock and forced her towards the fire pit in the center of the room. He tried to fling her into the flames. In a move straight from an action film, she spun loose and grabbed his arm. She thrust his hand into the snapping fire and Jorick roared in pain and surprise. It was enough to shock Katelina from her terror induced daze. She rose to her feet, ready to charge through the doorway, heedless of the consequences.

  Jorick didn’t need her. He twisted from Kateesha’s grasp, then threw her to the floor and swung at her chest. She rolled out of the way, just in time, and his fist slammed into the concrete. She leapt to her feet and circled him slowly, her eyes smug. “Admit it Jorick, you’re outmatched. You can’t save her, anymore than you could save Velnya.”

  With something like a howl, Jorick surrendered completely to the primitive side of vampire nature; the rage and lust for blood. He tackled her to the floor again and snarled into her face as he drew back his fist for another attack.

  The guards by the door leaped suddenly to attention. They raced across the room and hauled Jorick up by his arms. Though he struggled, they dragged him across the floor and dumped him in a heap on one of the fur rugs, then took a step back to stand over him threateningly, their teeth bared.

  The door they’d been guarding snapped open and four modern dressed vampires hurried through. Kateesha took the opportunity to leap to her feet frantically. Jorick looked from the newcomers to her and sneered. “You’re pathetic. You have to call in your dogs.”

  She straightened her ruined dress and quickly recovered her composure. “Which is why I’ll win.”

  Katelina stood in the corridor, forgotten. In one hand she gripped the knife, as if it was her last possession, while the other helplessly wadded her coat. Her mouth hung open in a surprised “o”, too terror stricken to make a sound.

  Jorick knelt in the center of the six vampires, bloody and bruised. His shirt was torn loose at the shoulder, and the sleeve was shredded to reveal deep wounds underneath. The slices on his face were red and raw, and one of his eyes was swollen. Blood trickled from his nose and his dark hair fell in a shower of disarrayed night, but his eyes remained hard and cold as he stared at Kateesha. “I may die, but not vainly.” He was on his feet so fast that Katelina missed the motions. The two oiled guards tried to subdue him but he threw them aside like playthings.

  He stepped menacingly towards Kateesha, and she danced lithely away . The six guards closed in on him. He fought one after another, while Kateesha continued to float backwards, some of her confidence gone.

&
nbsp; There was a crunch and a cry, and Katelina watched as one of the oiled guards crumpled to the floor. Despite the victory, there were too many for Jorick to fight alone. Still, it took all five guards to pin him to the floor. Trapped, he writhed and bucked uselessly beneath them in an effort to free himself.

  Kateesha stopped her slow escape and crossed her arms over her breasts, a superior gleam in her eyes. “And so, the great Jorick succumbs at last. Bring him to me!”

  Her slaves obeyed. They hauled Jorick to his feet and dragged him across the room where they forced him to kneel before her. Kateesha brushed wild strands of dark hair from his bloody face and he flinched away. She dropped her hand slowly and studied him. “I’ve given you more than a fair share of opportunities, Jorick. Would you still reject me?”

  “Always.” Jorick’s eyes were cold with hatred.

  She cocked her head to one side and studied him. “I don’t know what you suddenly find so appealing about having a human. I tried one, and she wasn’t addicting enough to make me stupid. Yours seems to have sucked all the intelligence out of you.”

  Katelina could feel Kateesha staring at her, even though the vampiress’s gaze was on her prisoner. She wasn’t looking at her with her eyes, but with her mind. She was gloating because, even though Jorick had refused her, she’d still won.

  “This has nothing to do with Katelina,” Jorick snapped. “I wouldn’t want you if you were the last woman in the world.”

  Kateesha snarled, and Katelina made a soft whimpering noise. She couldn’t move, couldn’t think; couldn’t comprehend what she was seeing. It wasn’t supposed to happen like this. No matter what, Jorick was supposed to kill Kateesha. But with five vampires holding him, he couldn’t. And they all knew it.

  Kateesha’s face turned into an unreadable mask. “Fine,” she said flatly. “Then die.” She grabbed Jorick’s head in both her hands and twisted it. There was a loud crack and Jorick’s body sagged. At her signal, the guards dropped him into a lifeless heap on the floor and stepped back obediently. Kateesha knelt next to him. She bared her fangs and ripped into this throat. His blood flowed, thick and red. It filled Kateesha’s mouth and wet her ruined dress.

  Time folded in on itself; everything sped by on fast forward while Katelina was stuck in slow motion. Her head was filled with the throbbing noise of a trapped scream and it drowned out the sound of footsteps dashing down the corridor towards her.

  The scream forced its way out suddenly, and left her empty. Without a thought, she charged, the knife raised as she ran headlong at the vampiress, still bent to her feast. One of the guards cried out a warning and Kateesha snapped up. She spun around and started to rise, just as Katelina collided with her, inadvertently driving the silver blade into her own breast. She froze, a look of confusion on her face, and then she crumpled and landed on top of Jorick. Crimson blood poured out from around the still protruding knife, and she twitched.

  The five guards stood back, bewildered and shocked. Then Oren’s group stormed into the room. They crashed together, into a snarling, vicious fight, but it was a fight that went unheeded by Katelina. She stood, frozen, and stared at the space Kateesha had been in. Slowly, the truth sunk in, and her knees gave out. She fell to the floor, spent and exhausted. Hot tears cut tracks through the grime on her face.

  Her hands shook as she roughly jerked Kateesha’s body aside and moved to kneel next to Jorick. He was soaked in blood; his clothing and hair a sodden, sticky mess of gore. His skin was translucent and withered, like an apple left in the sun too long, and she could see the shape of his bones through it.

  She clutched at him desperately. “Jorick,” she sobbed out loud. A memory swam behind her eyes of Jorick sucking the life from Nirel’s crushed body, his fangs flashing as he slaughtered him. That was what Kateesha had done, she’d drained him, killed him; gorging herself on his life, like a bloated spider.

  “It’s not supposed to happen this way!” she cried, the words wet and strange. “You promised we’d go somewhere warm! Oh God!” She found his hand, and fumbled to grasp his fingers, but there was no response. “No, Jorick. No…” she broke off into sobs. Helplessness washed over her as she gazed at his ruined body; his head still at a strange angle. Her mind raced desperately as she tried to think of some way to fix this, some way to undo what had been done.

  Her eyes fell to her useless, blood covered hands. Blood. It seemed unfair somehow that she had so much and he had none, that Kateesha had taken it all, that –

  Blood!

  He’d said that blood could heal them! Without thinking, she shoved her sleeves up and jerked the knife out of Kateesha’s body. She slashed it across her arm. Blood ran, but, the pain was lost to her shock and adrenaline.

  She jammed her bleeding arm into Jorick’s slack mouth and forced her blood into him. The world slowed around her; everything a blur except for his face. Her body seemed to disappear and she was left numb, disembodied and disconnected. She could hear a high and hysterical voice sobbing over and over again, “No, Jorick, no!” She could see Jorick, pale and dead. Blood leaked out around the corners of his bruised lips and ran down his chin in a thin stream, just like in the nightmare she’d had. No, Jorick’s nightmare. She was trapped in Jorick’s nightmare, drowning in the same crushing, overwhelming pain, the same screaming need to save someone. Only she wasn’t Jorick. There was nothing she could do. No miracle. Nothing mattered anymore.

  She dropped her bleeding arm and whispered, “I’m sorry. I’m so sorry. This is all Kateesha’s fault! That horrible, evil, rotten, fucking bitch!” Her head snapped towards Kateesha’s motionless body, and her eyes narrowed in red edged fury. She clutched the dagger in her hand and without thinking she stabbed Kateesha again and again, screaming nonsense, until the vampiress’s chest was a mass of shining red and her blood ran in rivers across the cold floor.

  In a fit of madness, Katelina threw the knife aside and attacked the immobile body with her hands. She ripped through globs of gore and shreds of flesh, splattering blood and rending aside the ruined bones. In a daze she found her hand wrapped around Kateesha’s punctured heart and, without thinking, she ripped it free. A shrill laugh escaped her lips as she held it; this was the one thing they all wanted. Jorick had bled and died for it, for this!

  Someone shouted, but it seemed far away and of no consequence. Giddy hysteria filled her and spiteful malice prompted her to draw the bloody lump to her mouth. A shout echoed, closer to her, but again she ignored it. Her lips sealed over the ghastly prize and her teeth sank into it; the surface popped like the skin of a tomato. Dark, thick blood ran over her tongue and down her throat; spicy and pungent like a hot exotic drink.

  Someone grabbed her roughly, but it was too late. She cast the empty organ aside, and it fell to the floor with a sickening plop. Her heart raced and her vision cleared. The world snapped into sharp relief and her ears roared with the cacophony of sound around her. She wanted more, needed more of the thirst quenching blood, but she couldn’t move. Someone held her back. Their fingers dug painfully into her arm.

  She looked up and found herself staring into Oren’s face. His amber eyes were filled with horrified fury. The room spun and a sick smile traced across her face. Laughter bubbled from her bloody lips. “She’s dead, Oren. Jorick did your dirty work for you. I hope you’re proud.” The world tilted dangerously, the colors too bright, the sound too loud, and, before he could answer, she collapsed into a pool of darkness, silently screaming for Jorick again, and again.

  **********

  Chapter Twenty-Two

  Katelina woke to crushing blackness. Soft sounds drifted from somewhere distant. She strained to catch them, but they stayed indistinct whispers. She sat up, slowly, her joints stiff, and decided that the discomfort was good. It meant she was alive; even if she wasn’t sure where she was.

  With no present to process, she turned her thoughts to the past. The fight in the throne room, Kateesha’s laughter, the blood that leaked from her full lip
s as she drained Jorick, his face pale and withered like dead leaves, the horror, the ache, the terrifying emptiness.

  That was all Katelina felt; emptiness. Her chest was a gaping hole with nothing but reverberating shock inside. She mentally reached out for him, to find nothing. No sense of his presence, no sense of his thoughts, no annoyance or amusement prickling her, no silken caress to soothe her. The tie was broken. He’d gone to a place she couldn’t follow.

  She sobbed into her hands and screamed out silently for him, begging him to answer her, though she knew it was no good. He was gone and she was alone, surrounded by vampires who’d probably kill her. A vague memory flitted through her mind; a hysterical voice laughing and screaming as she held Kateesha’s heart in her hand. Her stomach rolled. She could still taste the spicy, exotic blood in her mouth. She could remember how it felt as it ran down her throat, thick and hot, she’d swallowed it and craved more. Finally, Kateesha was dead, but so was Jorick, and she was alone again.

  A line of light appeared in the darkness and she heard someone fumbling with a door latch. Fear stabbed through her; was it one of the others? Were they there to kill her? Did she even care?

  She was still undecided when the door opened wide and light flooded the room. She raised a shaking hand to shade her face from the sudden brightness. When her eyes adjusted, she found that her visitor was Oren. He stood, framed in the doorway, a flaming torch in his hands. He wore a dark blue shirt tucked into darker pants. His golden hair fell around his shoulders and on his face was an angry scowl. “So, you’re awake,” he commented flatly. He lowered the torch and met her eyes. A touch of sarcasm crept into his voice as he asked, “Feeling better?”

  She hugged her knees to her chest and buried her face against them. Oren was one of the last people she wanted to see.

 

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