From Slate to Crimson

by Brandon Hill

  The assembly was quiet, responding only with their usual, “We obey, Master,” when I dismissed them.

  Justin and Aiko, having returned to the Lair, came to my side at my command. I ordered them to gather and prepare as many active combatants as possible, soldiers and thaumaturgists alike. Spotting Roland in the crowd, I brought him to my side and instructed him to send my orders to the other villages.

  “Is Amelia safe?” I asked afterwards.

  “Quite safe, Master,” Roland said. “She’s in your room, waiting for you. She was right upset when I caught up with her. She ran like one of us, almost. It took awhile to catch up with her. You didn’t tell me that she became your host.”

  “It was no one’s concern,” I said, more tersely than I wanted. “Is she hurt?”

  Roland shook his head, and adjusted his shades. “No, Master. But like I said, she’s properly shaken.”

  “Carry on with your orders,” I said before going towards the hallways of the residence wing. “Return to me when you come back, in my sitting room. There is still a matter to discuss with you.”

  I felt his dismay; he had hoped that I would have forgotten about his infraction, and I had dashed those hopes quite soundly. Despite the happenings of tonight, Roland needed to understand that his actions would have consequences.

  “Yes, Master,” he answered with a curt bow, and hurried out the door. Little did he know that I had already devised a fitting punishment. He would especially dislike it, but would survive. As a matter of fact, it would serve as a decent reminder for him to stay on the course of our cause.

  * * * *

  My chambers are a silent sanctuary from the madness of my life: a place where I allowed few of my children, and even fewer humans, to enter, save my sitting room. One effect of a consummate bond with my kind is that being in the presence of our very scent produces a calming effect, and so I allowed Amelia access to my bedroom, where my scent suffused everything.

  My mind locked upon her thoughts as I traversed the corridors that led to her, and I knew that though she had indeed been calmed, she was not happy. Once I reached the door to my sitting room, I moved at preternatural speed to my bedroom beyond. My heart spilled out at the sight of her.

  Amelia lay on her side upon my grand and long-unused bed. Her back was to the door, her mind a torrent of fear and sadness.

  I gave a mental command to Justin to not allow anyone to disturb us, and closed the door behind me.

  The doorknob clicked as it shut. Before I could say anything, Amelia spoke.

  “Don’t tell me you know what I’m thinking,” she said. Her voice was quiet and almost mocking. “You’re not the only one in here who can read minds, you know.”

  “Well, I know I’m the better one at it,” I said, allowing myself a hint of smugness. “You mind if I sit down?”

  “It’s your bed.”

  “You weren’t hurt, were you?” I asked, more for my benefit than for hers. Though Roland had assured me, I simply wanted to hear her confirm it.

  “Only my pride,” Amelia said. “When I saw that giant dog, and then what you did to it…I ran. God, I feel like such a wuss!”

  My hand went to her shoulder. “Amelia, anyone would’ve been scared in that situation. You know this.”

  “But I told you I wouldn’t be any good for this war,” Amelia said, her voice breaking in frustration. I felt her sadness deepen, felt her beginning to cry. “Don’t you see? I don’t belong here!”

  She rolled over and faced me with red rimming the white surrounding the slate gray in her eyes. She grasped my arm and squeezed it tightly as she picked herself up to my level, her bleary eyes pleading as she knelt before me. “Take it away, Talante, please! I’m a nobody; Lothos wouldn’t want me. I don’t want this war! I don’t want to remember how I came across that stupid house! I don’t want to remember anything!”

  Her last words broke into dissonant half-sobs. She doubled over, bawling like a girl in her teacher’s arms after a confrontation with the school bully. I allowed her this chance to release her emotions. She was not the first human to react this way after seeing what Lothos could do. This was a cross she would have to learn to bear. After all, she was lying to herself even in her sorrow and fear.

  “Not even me?” I said after she had regained most of her composure. “You want to forget me so badly?”

  “Damn…You’re doing it again,” Amelia said. “I wish you weren’t a mind reader. I don’t know why I keep forgetting about that.”

  “Humans often do.”

  “You knew I was lying to myself, didn’t you?”

  “Yes.”

  “I don’t have to do this alone, right?”

  “I promised you that you wouldn’t,” I assured her.

  “Talante…”

  Her heart quickened. I tried to refrain from reading her thoughts, but her present state made it impossible. I knew what she would do. I knew that I should not have allowed it, but I also knew that in our hearts, that proverbial line had been long crossed. The first drink was always a dangerous gamble with a human. And I lost.

  “Yes, Amelia.” My voice was always calm, even in a fragile state. She found it far more comforting than my scent.

  “Don’t ever leave me alone!”

  “You know that I can’t,” I said as she looked into my eyes so deeply that I thought her steel-colored gaze would engulf me. I felt her sadness, and the soothing comfort of my presence compelling her to act upon her already rampant emotions.

  “I could never…”

  Her gray eyes sparkled in my chambers’ lamplight. And I felt her hands upon my shoulders. I touched her chin gently, and brought her closer.

  “…ever…”

  My skin was cold to her touch, but she did not seem to mind as it warmed quickly after contact with her…

  …And especially when we kissed.

  Chapter Seven

  Amelia’s skin was soft and warm as I moved my hands up her arms and then caressed her back. Tiny goosebumps rose at my touch and I felt a swell of sympathy. I must have felt like a corpse upon her. She smelled of schoolbooks and paper amidst a floral bouquet, which gained a heady aroma as her skin flushed.

  I let my kisses touch her upper and lower lips individually, and then the corners of her mouth. She sighed, feeling comforted in my grasp, her heart beating faster, giving warmth to her skin, which I drew upon to warm my own body.

  She wanted this…wanted me, and despite my logic warning the contrary, I could not, and would not deny her. I could no longer lie to myself about how much I had longed for this. No, I ached for it.

  Her blood had made me her prisoner, and it called to me to sate a desire that had arisen from a place that resided even deeper than my ever-present thirst.

  But then Amelia paused, breaking away in the middle of our deep, needful kiss. Our breathing heavy with the heat of the moment, I looked at her questioningly, my body aching for our lips to join again in glorious conjunction. And I felt a pull to her as deeply and strongly as the one she felt from me.

  “You can love?” she whispered, as if amazed that I could.

  “Yes,” I said. My fangs had lengthened, slurring the sound of the word as I formed it.

  “Can you make love?”

  “I told you that I could.”

  “You…want me?”

  “More than you will ever know.”

  She was aglow with happiness, and the pull I felt from that emotion transformed into a searing pain of desire which I was powerless to resist. I resumed our kiss, deepening it as I leaned forward and Amelia moved backward with my forward motion, sinking gently onto the bed, our conjoined lips and tongues dancing.

  She stiffened and let out a muffled yelp as her tongue struck my fangs, and then moaned at the effects as my toxins roused bliss within her through the tiny wound. Twice this happened; each time, the sweet taste of her blood made my breath catch in my throat.

  I felt her hand travel towards the front
of my frock. I guided it to the buttons beneath the flap of fabric that lined its center, and felt her unfasten them one by one. She was tentative at first, but then became more assertive as she discovered my willingness.

  When Amelia unfastened the last two buttons at the bottom, she sloughed the clothing off of me like an old skin, and cast it to the side of the bed, leaving my bare chest free for her to explore. She shrank back at the coolness of my skin at first, but was quickly emboldened by her need, and the heat from her skin quickly warmed mine.

  Seconds later, I kicked off my shoes. These were soon followed by her own as I lifted her long gray dress from her body, followed by her filmy white slip.

  She reflexively covered her voluminous chest, which was still restrained by the thin lace of her bra; I chuckled at how adorable she looked doing it. But when I removed her glasses and rested them upon the nightstand, I stopped with a soft gasp. Her beauty was astonishing!

  I stared for several moments, amazed at how a simple thing like eyewear could diminish her full, natural loveliness. The skin of her shoulders, arms, and stomach was perfect, cream-colored as compared to my paper white, and flushed with so much blood, it created a tantalizing scent.

  Perhaps I had stared a bit too long, as I felt a sense of self-consciousness arise within Amelia’s mind. She flushed again, and looked away with growing embarrassment. Quickly, to rectify my mistake, I touched her chin and gently guided her gaze back to me.

  “So beautiful…” I whispered in reverent awe.

  Amelia, her confidence renewed, softened her expression and parted her lips as I leaned forward again. I began the kiss anew, sliding my lips towards her chin and further down. She drew in a sharp breath, exposing her neck fully. Her thoughts expressed what she wanted in no uncertain terms.

  She caressed every inch of my back and pressed me closer against her.

  The taste of her blood was maddeningly close as we kissed and I refrained from the urge to feed. I wanted this to last, and have her scent tease me until I could take it no more.

  “Not yet,” I purred teasingly, and then nuzzled her neck as she let out a gentle groan of frustration. I laughed in a soft whisper as our lips came together once again. In the midst of our kiss, Amelia unbuckled my belt. Soon, my slacks joined our unceremonious pile beside the bed. I gently ran my hand up the smooth skin of her left leg, and she groaned as I moved my lips to her neck. I swelled in need against her, with only a barrier of linen between us both.

  I undid the clasp at the front of Amelia’s bra with a clawed fingertip. Her breasts, almost disproportionately large for her frame, rolled away, an inviting mix of pink and cream. I sank to their level, and touched them gently, the skin as smooth and supple as her legs, her nipples pert and erect.

  Amelia clasped my hand and pressed it upon her left breast. “Talante…you’re too damn slow,” she said, breathless as I was. Her blood called to me, almost screamed.

  I licked my suddenly dry lips, feeling her heartbeat, watching the blood pulse in every vein. The need had become maddening.

  I shuddered, and my breath came in short pants as I realized how long it had been since I had fed. Amelia, as if suddenly having gained the power to read my mind, smiled. It was a wide, alluring thing, as she closed her eyes and craned her neck in full invitation.

  “I want you,” she said, her voice a hoarse, purring whisper. “Satisfy yourself. Drink your fill. Make love to me; I want both.”

  Oh, what fools these mortals be!

  “Not my fill, Amelia,” I whispered back, and my tongue caressed her neck in preparation. “Never…my fill.”

  I bore my fangs into her, and unleashed the hot fount that had devastated me before. She seized my shoulders at the first gout.

  At first, Amelia choked it back, releasing little gasping whimpers, but soon a loud, piercing cry escaped her lips. She pulled me down with her onto the soft bed, shuddering in waves of pleasure, her legs moving involuntarily to wrap around my thighs.

  I drank freely for several seconds, drowning in her exciting taste, the ecstasy flooding through me like a river of energy, her enraptured moans a sweet music as she undulated beneath me.

  I wished desperately that I could lose myself in the drink. But as I must, I maintained my control and sealed the wound. Her disappointed groan and pleas for more were soon silenced by my finger upon her lips. The way I smiled assured her that more would be coming. And I did not disappoint as I proceeded to at last remove her lavender lace panties, now thoroughly damp with her need.

  When I finished, and added another member to the pile of apparel, Amelia in turn guided me to my own distended undergarments, freeing my strong and needful manhood from its longstanding linen barrier. She bit her lower lip at the sight of me, and then pressed against me in a fevered kiss, pulling me back down to her into the bed.

  In our passions, my hands returned to her breasts, and she trembled at my touch, which had grown more assertive than before. I made a hairline scratch across the skin just above her left nipple. She gasped sharply and the blood trickled out.

  Amelia made a ragged squeal as my lips sealed around the nipple and pulled at the tiny fount. Like an infant, she held my head to her breast as I lapped up the crimson flow. I sealed the scratch with my tongue, but reopened the wound with my fangs.

  Amelia gasped as I suckled and felt the lashes of exquisite pleasure that sliver of blood sent into me. My saliva in the wound and my tongue swiping upon her sensitive flesh caused her to thrash her head from side to side in blissful moaning. Our breaths became as uneven as the tremors that ran through our naked bodies; the upwelling of blood was like lines of pure nectar.

  I felt Amelia tensing with her own tiny euphoric spasms. I released her breast, and moved forward, sliding my fingers across her skin. I induced pleasure into her nerves at every part of her body that I touched, and this brought forth her first orgasm: a pulse of bliss that I felt as her back arched and she released gasping cries in lovely cadence, setting a match to the powder keg that was my desire.

  I returned my fangs to the base of her neck, and she snapped her arm around my back, pressing me hard against her.

  Frantically, her free hand searched for my sex. At last finding and grasping its erect length, she brought it to her soft, moist opening, her thoughts focused desperately on that primal need.

  Not desiring to tease her any more, I thrust into her and bit hard, releasing a torrent of blood from the wound that sent me reeling. I felt her tighten upon me, and heard her wail in a second orgasm. We froze for several heartbeats as I rode the pleasure with her, but staunched most of the flow with my tongue.

  I made love to her, thrusting slowly, listening to her shuddering cries as I fed passively from the partially-sealed wound. Soon, I released my hold upon her neck, and made tiny scratches into her shoulder, lapping up the flow.

  Amelia cried out all the more loudly, digging her fingernails into my back as I moved inside her, licking the tiny orbs of blood from the wound, electrifying her nerves with my touch as we joined ourselves together. We gave into each other this way, I enjoying her taste in as many places as I could think as the night wore on.

  She playfully wrestled me to my back, and pushed herself upon and into me, giving me tender love bites that mimicked my own, more effective set. She nibbled across my chest and stomach as she writhed upon me and pushed me into her; I licked the blood clean from her nails that had scratched me, as well as from my own claws and the scratches they produced upon her.

  Her nervousness evaporated completely and I rose and brought her back upon the soft bedsheets. I teased her anew, disconnecting from her, but returning to her sex to pierce its petal-like folds with my fangs. I brought her swiftly to climax this way until she again wrestled with me, and impaled herself atop me as I pierced her fingers, palm and wrist, every taste more delectable than the last.

  The undulations and trembling of our sweating bodies grew more vehement as I conjoined with my consummate host and l
over in feeding and intercourse, and our noises rang out in counterpoint as we made love with ardent fervor.

  My stamina was great, and it was as if Amelia drew upon the well of it to last with me. We pulled and pushed upon and within each other; I drank shallowly and deeply. We made love as if we had but hours left to live, filling the night cries that intensified from merely pleasured to desperate, staving off the end for as long as we could.

  Still, though immortal I am, omnipotent I am not. Even my inhuman flesh had its limit, and in the fullness of time, Amelia helped me to reach it.

  Her cream-colored skin had become hot and fragrant, with a crimson flush, and as slick with sweat as mine from our passions when we came to the end of our control.

  I drank gluttonously from her right breast while she straddled and bounced upon me, holding onto my sex tightly with her own, balancing with her hands gripping my ankles. I thrust in counterpoint, and we forced back the inevitable with almost painful vehemence, pants and raptured cries becoming coughs of defiance as Amelia’s hips bore down, rose, and then bore down again.

  At long last, it claimed us, and we surrendered to a mix of heaven and hell. I held Amelia down at the waist as I came, my teeth bared, and releasing choked cries at every agonizingly blissful spasm that released my seed into her.

  Amelia’s fingernails pierced my ankles, her back arched, and she gave a brief, ecstatic cry, but choked it back with defiantly bared teeth, only to have it escape her after a second of futile resistance, and melt into breathless, wailing gasps. Her sex squeezed upon me like a vice as her bliss washed over me and inundated my senses.

  With consuming exhaustion, I lay weak and overpowered by the intensity of the orgasm as a second wash of bliss caused Amelia to shudder and bend forward over me upon splayed palms.

  She bit her lip and shut her eyes, her mind swimming in the fading ecstasy, her sex tightening around me in a rhythm of weakening contractions.