Crimson Kiss

by Trisha Baker

  Meghann's Cadillac was still parked by the elaborate iron gate. Once Meghann had thoroughly engaged Simon, Charles would simply leap over the barbwired wall and follow his senses to his friend's whereabouts.

  Charles handed her several items from the bag, and she slipped them on. He hugged her close, and then she flew into the manor house. Meghann found herself by the French doors Simon had opened the night before.

  She did not feel Simon's presence—but that meant nothing. Whatever he'd been up to for forty years had left him with an impenetrable camouflage. Meghann focused her senses on Jimmy. He was no longer conscious—all she could feel was pain, a severely injured person with no more awareness of their surroundings than a hurt animal.

  Meghann walked toward the kitchen, but stopped in the foyer. There was dried blood on the polished oak floor, as well as on a lovely Persian rug by the staircase. She knelt down and touched the bloodstain. Poor Jimmy! Damn, why didn't she see through that little worm Jones? Maybe Simon hadn't made a deal with the man the last time she spoke with him. If she found Jimmy in one piece and got him out of this hellhole, she'd tell him he had no choice about murdering Jones—and that he'd never have to kill anyone if he still wanted to be a vampire.

  Meghann wrapped her arms around her body and walked toward the kitchen, where the entryway to the cellar was located. She could already feel terror emanating from it… What had he done to Jimmy? She had that same leaden, frightened feeling she had the night she ran through fog to find poor Roy. And again she was walking on when every instinct screamed at her to turn away. It was like she was irresistibly drawn to something she knew was going to harm her, but she couldn't help herself. Well, that neatly summed up her relationship with Simon Baldevar, didn't it?

  She walked the long, unlit length of the cellar, gasping in disgust at the corpses lining the walls. This wasn't like Simon; in fact, she received little impression of him. This place was the domain of that awful hag; she hung the bodies so she could continue to take pleasure in their deaths. The emanations Meghann received from their desecrated bodies made her wince… She saw a woman sliced in half, a man flogged to death, men and women starved for days in a small cell with vermin and water bugs crawling all over them, and a young girl having molten lead poured down her throat. Of course, the dominant image was that rotten bitch drinking the blood of her victims—savoring their agony while they were drained of life. How many people had been grateful to be bitten, thankful the pain was over? I should have made her suffer more before I killed her.

  Now Meghann stopped before a massive steel door; she could feel her master's presence… He'd been here quite recently. She waved her hand, causing the steel door to swing open. Meghann took in the dungeon—for there was no other way to describe the hellish room.

  Meghann saw the ropes dangling from the rack, the pincers lying by it, but she did not see Jimmy. He was not on the wheel, not hanging from the chains attached to the wall; then her eyes fell on the iron maiden.

  She swung the heavy iron lid open, and gasped. "No!" she cried loud enough to make the torture implements on the table tremble.

  Meghann lifted Jimmy out of the hellish contraption. "Jimmy," she choked out, weeping when she saw what he had gone through. When she touched him, all his torment was clear to her. She saw the session on the rack, how he howled when the monster ripped out his fingernails and toenails; then he fainted and was brutally revived. She saw Simon dragging him over to the iron maiden and throwing him in. Meghann almost felt she was Jimmy, felt the fear and terrified anticipation when he saw the lethal iron spikes on the door coming toward him as Simon slowly shut the door. Then the spikes descended, lightly pinching his flesh at first, but then sinking in farther, stabbing him with a dozen sharp points at once, simultaneously attacking the heart, lungs, liver, spleen… maiming and mutilating, but not killing. Just wishing he would die as those vicious spikes drove into him, rooted in his vital organs, tore him apart…

  Meghann took a shaky breath. Jimmy was dying—she could not dare transform him now. In his shocked condition, he would not live through the process. She said a brief prayer, hoping Charles had been right about what Alcuin meant. She remembered what Charles had told her: "just pray, friend—like you did on the night we first talked."

  Meghann thought back to that first night, and began saying the Hail Mary, her favorite prayer from childhood. Gradually her voice became calm and sweet. And she thought, not of the horror of the room she found herself in or her lover's hideous circumstances, but of all the good times they'd had together. This was what Alcuin had tried to tell her. Her weapon was love—not the dark, twisted thing that bound her to Simon but the love she shared with Jimmy, her friendship with Charles. And she could use it to heal Jimmy.

  A warm glow appeared over Jimmy while she prayed. As the glow brightened the entire room, Jimmy's bones healed. The gaping, monstrous holes in his body refilled and the bleeding stopped. "What?" he muttered in a haze. "Maggie, what's going on?"

  "Jimmy!" she squealed, and hugged him so tight he yelped. "Oh, Jimmy, you're alive! Alcuin… Charles, thank you… Thank you for showing me this wondrous gift!" The glow had died when she stopped concentrating. Jimmy was nowhere near healthy… He was too weak to walk, in pain from head to toe, and his fingers and toes were horribly disfigured. He was still suffering from the infection Renee had put in his veins, but he was no longer on the brink of death.

  She barely had time to give him one small kiss before she felt her master's presence. Meghann turned around—prepared to try and make this insane scheme work.

  She saw Simon's eyes light up in appreciation at her appearance. After Charles explained his plan, she had selected a violet gown cut in a medieval style—a tunic dress with a deep u-neckline and a fine silver chain around her slender waist With her hair tumbling down in soft waves to her waist, and her cheeks flushed from the blood, she knew she looked beautiful. Would it be enough?

  "Will what be enough, little one?" Simon glanced behind her at Jimmy's improved condition, then gave her a twisted grin.

  Meghann didn't answer—she just gave him a seductive smile and walked over to him. Her high heels put her at eye level when she put out her hand to caress his face. Simon caught her hand and held it tightly while his golden glance burned through her.

  "Don't you want me to touch you?" she whispered.

  He kept that same wry expression on his face while Jimmy's face showed confusion and disbelief. Maggie had come here and saved his life, but now she was behaving like some courtesan with that monster. What was she up to?

  "Your paramour wishes to know your intentions," Simon whispered to her, not letting up one bit on the pressure on her hand. "And I must admit, I am rather curious myself. Are you trying to seduce me, sweetheart?"

  She widened her eyes—the same flirtatious but properly deferential gesture she'd always used to try to get around him in the past. "Is it working?"

  Simon smiled down at her. "You make a pretty coquette, Meghann. Tell me why you healed that wretch."

  Meghann pressed her body against Simon's and told him in a low, clear tone that carried throughout the entire room, "I healed him because I care for him—live with it." She gave him a wry smile of her own and put her hand in his thick chestnut hair. "Jimmy tried his best today to give me help he thought I needed… I mean to repay him for that."

  Simon didn't stop her from running her hand through his hair; he wrapped his other hand around her waist and pulled her close to him. Then he gave Jimmy a derisive grin over the top of Meghann's head—and ignored the obscenities pouring out of Jimmy's mouth. When Simon glanced down at Meghann again, his eyes had darkened noticeably. His voice sounded a bit thicker than usual when he asked, "How do you plan to repay your lover, Meghann?"

  "By getting you to let him go," she said softly.

  Simon raised an eyebrow, and gestured to Jimmy's injuries.

  "Oh, I know you had your fun," Meghann purred at him. "And I won't lie to you and
pretend what you did doesn't sicken me. But I should think that was enough to settle whatever quarrel you have with Jimmy Delacroix. You've broken him, Simon. Do you honestly believe he will ever brave your wrath again?"

  "Sweetheart, you puzzle me. If my actions toward your paramour disturb you, why are you doing your level best to entice me? If you care for him enough to heal him, why on earth would I allow him to live?"

  Meghann dropped the seductive look and told him earnestly, "Because you have me. Isn't that all you said you wanted? Jimmy is here because he doesn't realize what happened between us last night—he doesn't know that I love you. I wish I didn't, but I do. If he knows that, Jimmy won't want me. Please let him go—I don't want another death on my conscience."

  Before Simon could reply, Jimmy yelled out, "What the hell is wrong with you, Maggie? You can't love him, you can't!"

  "Say it again, Meghann," Simon told her in a husky voice. Meghann thought she heard the smallest plea in his tone.

  "I love you, Simon Baldevar. I may not love your actions, and I certainly don't understand why I care for you, but I do. And I can't be with another man knowing what I feel for you." Meghann's eyes searched his. Did he believe her? "So let Jimmy go—I have no desire to live with him anymore. I'll stay at your side forever if you do this one small favor for me."

  Simon let go of her hand and wrapped his hand in her hair—pulling tightly. She didn't flinch or try to move away. "Pretty speech, little one. But if you have come to accept your love for me, why flee my home to enlist the aid of your catamite friend?"

  Meghann shook her head as much as she was able to with his grip on her scalp. "Not to ask for help… I wanted to say good-bye and tell him I would remain with you of my own free will. Please, will you let Jimmy leave here?"

  "Stop giving me charity, you whore!" Jimmy screamed in a jealous fit. "I don't want your goddamned pity!"

  "It would appear, Mr. Delacroix, that is all you shall ever receive from my consort. Did I not promise you the evening would end with you seeing Meghann in my arms… of her own volition?" Simon let go of her hair and wrapped his arms around her.

  Simon was immersed in her—so immersed he did not seem to hear Charles sneaking up behind him with a stake in his hand. Jimmy saw the whole thing, and allowed himself to pray that maybe everything Maggie had just said was a trick…

  And felt that small hope shatter when she screamed, "No!" and put her hands on the stake before it could go through Simon's back.

  Charles backed away, disbelief and shock plain on his face. "Meghann," he choked out.

  Simon let go of her and whipped around to grab Charles and his stake while Meghann sank to the floor, sobbing and howling.

  "I'm so sorry," she apologized, weeping. "I told you I couldn't do it, couldn't kill him no matter how much he deserves it." Jimmy thought he was beyond surprise, but then one of the pincers on the floor rattled and flew into Maggie's hands. She prepared to shove the thing into her chest…

  Simon kicked her wrist hard, and she dropped the pincer. He used Charles's momentary lapse of concentration to drive the stake into his unprotected chest.

  "Charles!" she screamed, and reached out to remove it from his heart.

  Easily Simon caught her by the hair and dragged her away from her friend. Without letting go of her, he reached one hand out, causing Jimmy's head to crash into the stone wall behind him—knocking him out.

  "I shall attend to him later, but now I wish to speak to you privately." He leaned down and bit her—taking away all the strength she'd gained from feeding that evening.

  Simon attached her to a set of chains on the wall. They had spikes inside the neck and wrists. He chained her up and she moaned when the spikes invaded the punctures in her neck. "Now you won't cause any further mischief. Stop rattling those chains—they have magical qualities, so you won't be able to break the restraints in your weakened state. You'll have no choice but to watch me torment your pathetic allies." He looked down at her, lust lighting up his eyes. "How beautiful you look in your pain and helplessness." Simon stroked her cheek and kissed her.

  When he kissed her, she bit him, and he slapped her hard. "Stop resisting, child. How many times have your tried to soothe your mind with the false notion that you would spurn me if you had a second chance?" Simon laughed and gestured to Jimmy and Charles. "Now you know the truth—you are mine, and you always will choose me. Did you or that fool honestly think such a transparent scheme could work? You cannot deceive me, Meghann. I knew you were playing a role—or rather that you flattered yourself with the idea you were playing a role. I also knew you could not allow anyone to hurt me; your loyalties still lie with me. Now your lover is barely alive, and that wretched sodomite who lured you from me will not see another night on this earth."

  "No, I don't want them to die…" she sobbed.

  "Your wants do not concern me."

  "I saved your life," she hissed. "Isn't that enough? Can't you let them go?"

  "Don't be silly. At any moment, I could have taken the stake from that wretched cur. I simply preferred to make you do it. Let them go? Sweet, I've so looked forward to this moment… when you realize that I am all you have in this world. Meghann, even if I did not have strong reason to savor their pain, I could not allow them to live."

  "Please," she begged, "don't make me watch everyone I love die!"

  Simon drank from her again, from a vein in her breast through the flimsy material of her gown. She howled in pain… and some slight feeling of desire. He saw that and smiled cruelly. "It is your love for them that is their downfall. I know you, Meghann. You continue to deny your love for me because they give you false courage. If they are dead, if you have nothing to cling to, I shall have you eating from my hand."

  Meghann spat on him. "If they die, I'll end my own life rather than be at your side!"

  "Sweetheart, I am trying very hard to control my temper. But I won't be so nice if you continue to defy me. Now beg my pardon."

  "Go to hell, you vicious beast!"

  "You received psychic impressions when you wandered the halls, right, Meghann?"

  She glared—unsure where this was going.

  "Sweetheart, I have a large cauldron burning over a fireplace in the next room. Reach out with your senses—you'll detect the odor and know I do not lie."

  Meghann sniffed hard, and choked at the foul smell.

  "It is melting copper—a phrase you have used to describe my eyes in your sweeter, more poetic moments. Shall I pour it down your lover's throat? You may have some small skill in healing him, but I do believe he would die long before you could help him."

  Her eyes widened, and he grinned at her shock. "Will you show your master the proper deference?"

  All she could do was nod.

  "Very good—but first we need an audience." Ignoring the unconscious vampire on the floor, Simon picked Jimmy up and attached him to a set of chains across the room from Meghann—where he had a very clear view of her. Simon put his hand on the mortal; he woke up again.

  Jimmy no longer felt human—he was a damned puppet in the hands of these vampires. They could awaken him, knock him out, heal him, hurt him—until this moment, he had not realized how truly different Maggie was from him.

  "You will realize a great deal before the moment comes when I smash your limbs upon the wheel and carefully interweave your bones into the spokes, leaving you to die slowly and horribly tomorrow while my consort and I rest. Meghann and I have come to an understanding while you were… indisposed." Simon walked back to Meghann, running one hand over the length of her body. "She's absolutely beautiful, isn't she?"

  "Please," she whimpered.

  "Are you defying me, little one?"

  "No, Master," she answered lifelessly.

  "Of course not." Simon took a straight-edge razor out of his pocket and used it to slice through her dress, also cutting her skin. He admired the straight crimson slash on her torso, and put his mouth to the wound.

  Jim
my turned his head away in disgust.

  "Our activities do not meet with your mortal paramour's approval, little one. Perhaps he'd like to see another game… Confession, maybe?"

  "What shall I confess, Master?" Meghann inquired in the same dull tone.

  "What you said to me last night."

  "I love you."

  "No, no—you already said that. Tell me, why did the boy-lover tell you to take that tact?"

  "He said you would believe me because you wanted to believe me."

  "I want very much to believe you will accept me, embrace my ways. But I understand you spent far too many years absorbing the pontiffs sanctimonious creed to do that easily. Surely, there was another reason I was supposed to accept your sweet words?"

  Meghann shrugged. "Because on some level they were true."

  "On every level," the fiend corrected her. "You do love me. Someday when these pathetic worms are no more, that admission won't cost you so much. But in the meantime, I can savor your pain almost as much I will savor the moment when you truly give yourself to me. Now tell this wretch what else you said."

  "I don't know what you want me to say."

  Simon stroked her wounded breast—his grin widened when Jimmy Delacroix started to howl in helpless rage. "Allow me to refresh your memory, my love. You were on my altar, writhing beneath me while I drank your blood…"

  Her lips curled, and Jimmy thought he saw tears glistening in her eyes. Or maybe it was the candlelight. But she said quietly, "I said I belong to you."

  "Louder."

  "I said I belong to you!" she shrieked. "Now, please, let them go! Torture me all you want, but let them go!"

  "I have no desire to torture you, little one. Your friends are another matter. But for now… you belong to me, and I intend to prove that to your little boy toy before he dies." Simon leaned down and started kissing her. "You'll scream for me, Meghann," he murmured. "You'll forget your worthless allies and yearn for me as you always have."

  Jimmy thought he'd almost rather go back on the rack—anything but watch that devil paw Maggie. And why didn't she turn away? Didn't she have any pride? What had happened to the woman he loved? Had Simon managed to destroy her completely? Jimmy took one last sickened look at the couple—Simon was kissing her breasts. But then Maggie held his eyes… and he could not believe it when her mouth stretched into a grin and she winked at him. Jimmy's mouth fell open and then his eyes fell to the floor where he noticed Charles sit up and yank the stake out of his own heart. There was almost no blood from the wound, and he didn't appear to be suffering…