Shit! That would be a drawback. I’d always enjoyed looking at my reflection. I’m not trying to make out that I was self-obsessed or narcissistic. But I liked to ensure I wasn’t going to get pulled in for questioning by the fashion police. I fell silent as I tried to work out ways of circumventing this problem but there only seemed to be one possible solution: I had to ensure there was nothing but black in my wardrobe. That way there would be no danger of any inadvertent coordination catastrophes. Considering my clothes had been picked so I blended in with the Goth crowd, I didn’t think it would be a big problem.
‘You believe in true love, don’t you?’
I didn’t know where Mel’s question had come from but I was used to her batting dislocated remarks in my direction. I brushed away my worries about mirrors and reflections and nodded.
‘True love conquers all,’ I told her. ‘True love lasts forever.’ They were trite phrases that we often hurled at each other to show we did believe in something. On this occasion I used the maxims to cover the fact that I was struggling to get my mind into the same place that Mel’s resided. Her individual way of thinking could be hard to follow at times. But I suspected she was finally getting close to the subject that had weighed on her thoughts and turned her mood so low. ‘True love waits,’ I added – and we both laughed at that one.
‘So you think I’m right?’ Mel pressed.
I regarded her with a puzzled expression.
‘You think Alan and I should be together?’ Mel said. ‘Forever? You think it’s true love? Yes?’
In truth, I’d never given it any thought. But Mel clearly didn’t want to hear that and I was a good enough friend to tell her only what she wanted to hear. ‘Of course,’ I said quickly. ‘You and Alan were destined to be together. You were made for each other. It’s like karma, Kermit or fate.’
‘Kermit was a frog,’ she said absently. ‘I think you meant kismet.’
I shrugged. ‘Whatever.’ I wasn’t sure the difference mattered. I didn’t really know if they were destined to be together but I’d said the words and, to my mind, that was all that was needed for me to believe they were true. ‘Alan is your destiny.’
Mel considered me with a thoughtful expression. ‘You’re a good friend, Tessa, sweetie.’ She placed a hand over mine.
Arousal surged through my body. For one glorious moment I thought she would suggest we do something kinky in the cemetery. Ordinarily my libido doesn’t stretch to graveyard encounters. The cold, the openness and the general spookiness were enough to strike cemeteries from my list of potential places for an indiscreet tryst. But, since Mel and I had kissed and become lovers – and since she had bitten me and changed me into a vampire – it was impossible to distance myself from the voracious hunger of my sexual appetite.
Mel didn’t need to speak and I tingled with anticipation. She only had to continue staring at me and I was imagining our bodies naked and pressed together; our mouths crushed over each other; our fingers and lips touching and exploring. The prospect made the inner muscles of my sex clench and convulse. I shivered with the thought of what she might want.
‘Let’s go inside the church,’ Mel said. Her words crushed my hopes of our prospective intimacy. I barely heard her add the words, ‘I hope Alan doesn’t hurt you too much.’
Chapter Six
St Germain’s church was all candlelight and shadows inside.
A life-size statue of the crucified Jesus, not looking particularly happy, leered over the altar. I imagined the stained glass windows would have been pretty and colourful in daylight but, because it was night, they were blackened and sinister.
The smell of incense and prayers lingered forlornly in the air.
For the first time in my life I understood the church was a testament to hope and faith and not just a building for weddings and funerals. It may not sound like much but, for me, it was a profound revelation. It was certainly enough to take my mind away from the comment Mel had made before dragging me through the oak doors.
I hope Alan doesn’t hurt you too much.
Alan stood in the centre of the altar, looking surprisingly sexy despite his drab, clerical clothes. The white collar around his neck gave his appearance a respectability that wouldn’t have been there otherwise. He had sandy blond hair, a light dusting of freckles on his handsome face, and his black shirt was stretched over a chest that was blatantly broad and muscular. I could easily picture him and Mel standing side-by-side and arm-in-arm. They looked like they were made for each other and I knew I had been right to give their love my vote of confidence.
I hope Alan doesn’t hurt you too much.
I wondered why Mel thought Alan might have a reason to hurt me.
He seemed like a nice enough guy and, from the little I knew about priests, I believed those of a religious persuasion seldom went out of their way to hurt people – unless they had some political axe to grind. Consequently I tried to forget her remark and concentrate on watching the pair of them interact like a pair of besotted, star-struck lovers.
‘You are the spawn of Satan,’ Alan growled. ‘Your presence here defiles the sanctity of this hallowed church.’
‘Hiya, sweetie,’ Mel chirped cheerily. She still held my hand and dragged me gaily down the aisle as she rushed to greet Alan. ‘You remember Tessa, don’t you?’ she asked pleasantly. ‘She’s another member of the undead now. Do you think you can exorcise her?’
‘Shit! Mel!’
He hadn’t looked best pleased to see her in the first place.
Now he looked positively furious.
‘Have you been making more damned vampires?’
She cowered defensively from his angry tone. ‘Just the one,’ she said quickly, as though this showed conservatism or restraint. Hurrying her words, she added, ‘I thought we could cure her together. I thought it would be one of those fun activities we could do as a couple where we get to share our personal and professional interests. I thought it might be a bonding experience.’
‘How many more times do I have to tell you?’ Alan hissed. ‘We’re not a couple.’
‘No,’ Mel agreed quickly. ‘We’re not a couple yet. But we could be if we enjoy doing this exorcism together.’
She stroked his arm through the sleeve of his shirt. It looked like the familiar caress of a lover. She chased her fingers up to the bulge of his bicep and her smile broadened as though she was excited by the presence of his formidable muscles. Alan allowed the contact to linger for a moment, almost as though he had forgotten himself. Then he pulled away from her and his frown returned.
‘We’re not a couple. And exorcisms are not a bonding experience. Shit! Mel! How is it that you’re more than a hundred year’s old yet you still have the mentality of an adolescent?’
I pulled Mel close to me and grinned against her ear. ‘I think he does like you,’ I confided. ‘It wouldn’t surprise me if he actually loved you.’
We giggled together and she encouraged me to step onto the chancel.
It was difficult to remain at ease in the church.
I’d never been disconcerted by the sight of crucifixes before but now, now I was a vampire, their nearness made my skin prickle. It was like being inside a pet shop and discovering there was only a thin sheet of glass separating me from tarantulas or poisonous snakes. The quiet atmosphere in the church inspired a vague sense of claustrophobia and, although I was happy to be doing something to help my friend get closer to her boyfriend, I honestly wished I could be somewhere else. My reservations grew stronger when Alan grabbed my wrist and fixed me with a pitying frown.
‘I imagine death will be a blessed release.’
‘Not really,’ I said, trying to wrest my arm free.
‘That’s the demon inside you talking,’ he said sadly. ‘But you’ll find peace once we’ve driven the beast from your soul.’
His harsh words and pompous delivery made me realise I was in a perilous situation. Panic swelled in my chest but, before I could esc
ape from his grip, he had thrown me onto the altar. I did try to pull myself free but Alan was surprisingly strong. My efforts were also hampered by the fact that he wielded a stout wooden crucifix. He pushed it toward me as though he was going to press it against my skin. I cowered from it the same way I would have shrunk from the threat of a spider’s touch. My chest tightened and my excitement grew but not in the good way – not the way it had been with Mel.
Before I could think how to extricate myself, Alan and Mel had me laid flat on the altar. The pair of them loomed over me and the moment was truly terrifying. The dark shadows of the church’s high-domed ceiling lay behind their faces. Although the light from the candles didn’t reach those far corners, I could see the shape of ancient beams against the aged plasterwork. It was a dizzying perspective and, because I didn’t know what to expect, apprehension held me tight in its clutches.
Alan chanted in Latin.
He had a sexy voice: deep and commanding.
I could imagine he would do well in his chosen career as a priest because it was the sort of voice that would be able to boom clearly from a pulpit as he preached the wrath of fire and brimstone to a trembling congregation. But it was unsettling to find his alien words being hurled at me from the candlelit gloom of the church. I struggled to climb from the altar, trying to be firm but polite as I prised myself away from the couple.
Neither Mel nor Alan allowed me the chance to break free.
The cold of the marble seeped quickly through my jeans to my buttocks. The flimsy fabric of the T offered no protection for my back or my shoulder blades and I began to feel as though I was resting on a block of ice. Whenever I tried to squirm away Alan repeatedly threatened me with the crucifix. Mel held my shoulders and patted me occasionally as though soothing a distressed pet.
‘Mel,’ I began doubtfully. ‘I’m not comfortable with this.’
She wasn’t listening.
She smiled dreamily at Alan.
I had to repeat her name three times before she tore her attention from him and glanced curiously down at me. ‘Sweetie?’ she asked distractedly. ‘What’s wrong?’
I glanced nervously in Alan’s direction as he continued to growl disquieting Latin phrases. His forehead was furrowed with concentration, as though it was taking an effort to remember the words. Lowering my voice, hoping I could speak to Mel without Alan overhearing, I asked, ‘What’s he doing?’
‘Shush, sweetie,’ she purred. ‘Just let Alan do his job. It will all be over soon.’
She tried again to soothe me, patting her hand against my shoulder and telling me everything would be all right, but I needed more than such simple consolation. The atmosphere of the church frayed my nerves. Alan was booming strange words that made me feel exceptionally vulnerable. I could sense the events of the night were moving out of my control.
And then Mel began to pull the clothes away from my body.
‘Mel!’ I shrieked.
The T went over my head before I could splutter another word. I hadn’t bothered with bra and pants when we left my apartment. Mel had been hurrying me to get dressed and the underwear seemed like an unnecessary inconvenience. At the back of my mind, I guess I had thought the garments might get in the way if Mel and I decided to do something daring while we were outside, but thoughts of such frivolous fun were scoured away by this unexpected turn of events.
I was presented topless before Mel and her boyfriend.
The exhibitionism seemed kinkier than those things Mel and I had done during our vodka binge. We had been in a private place then and it had only been the two of us. Here we were in a public church; Mel’s boyfriend presided over the activities; and the blind gaze of Christ’s statue stared solemnly down at me.
The embarrassment was sudden, total, and disturbingly erotic.
But I wouldn’t let myself dwell on its benefits.
Struggling to protect my modesty, I squashed my hands over my breasts. Mel unfastened my jeans and dragged them swiftly down to my ankles. She didn’t pull them all the way off. She hooked a fold of denim under a lip on the altar. As soon as I tried to struggle free I realised she had used the jeans as a convenient bondage tool. My legs were held apart and fixed securely to the foot of the altar.
I stared at her in dismay.
The church was surprisingly cold although my blushes were working hard to dispel the chill. It was mortifying to realise I was nearly naked in a church and under the icy gaze of Mel’s boyfriend. The frigid marble was an agony against my buttocks and back but that wasn’t the worst part of the ordeal.
The embarrassment was crushing.
My cheeks blazed hotter than the flames of any of the candles that lit the room and I was desperate to escape from the indignity. I tried to cover myself, juggling my hands between my breasts and my exposed pussy. But Mel chose that moment to pin my arms above my head. Her strength was truly formidable and, because I had yet to learn how to use my new powers as a vampire, I had no chance of fighting her.
‘Please! Mel!’ I fixed her with a pleading gaze. ‘Please don’t do this!’
She wasn’t listening.
Alan licked his lips as he studied me. He briefly faltered in his delivery of his Latin speech and that gave me a moment’s hope. For an instant I thought he might decide I was too attractive to suffer this sort of torment and I stopped struggling as I waited for him to apologise and give me a reassuring cuddle to let me know he had intended to cause no harm or upset. When I saw the steel return to his eyes, I understood it wouldn’t work out like that.
‘Pass my bag,’ he told Mel.
He pointed to a briefcase on a small stool behind the altar. Its presence suggested he was more prepared for the events of this evening than I had been. Mel handed him the bag and I watched him retrieve a small vial of water, a silver crucifix and a short leather switch.
My bowels clenched in a turmoil of anticipation.
‘Mel?’ I asked doubtfully. ‘What’s he doing?’
Mel shushed me again. Her kindly smile was unspoilt by the presence of her overlong canines. She continued to look like my caring best friend. ‘Don’t disturb Alan while he’s concentrating, sweetie. This part of the ritual is very important.’
‘I don’t want to disturb him,’ I assured her. ‘But I want to know what he’s doing to me.’ Lowering my voice, unhappy that I had to make the admission, I said, ‘I’m scared, Mel. I’m really scared.’
She rolled her eyes, fixing me with an expression of patient contempt. ‘There’s no need to be scared. Alan is just exorcising the demonic evil from inside you. He’s going to cleanse your soul of its sins and then drive a stake through your black, vampiric heart.’ She laughed and added, ‘That way you can know eternal peace, sweetie.’
My struggles increased.
The thought of having my soul cleansed, and then suffering the indignity of a gigantic splinter through my chest, did not hold any great attraction. The desire to put distance between myself, Mel and Alan was far more appealing. With renewed effort I fought to escape the altar and get away from the pair.
But there was no hope of escape.
Alan placed the wooden crucifix between my breasts and left it there.
The cross sizzled against my skin.
The shock was like a slap across the face. Its presence held me immobile and I realised I would no longer be able to do anything unless it was permitted by Mel or Alan. Mel continued to keep a tentative hold on my wrists but it was less like she was pinning me down, and more like she was simply holding my hands. My tormentors clearly understood I no longer presented a problem because they relaxed substantially.
‘Is this poor creature another of your sexual conquests?’ Alan sneered.
‘Tessa is my best friend,’ Mel sniffed haughtily.
Those words might have given me more comfort if Mel hadn’t been wielding a sharpened wooden stake as she said them. I was shocked into silence and only able to watch the pair above me with mounting dread.
‘Of course I haven’t!’ Mel exclaimed indignantly. ‘Only the once. And that was only because we were drunk and bored. It wasn’t like the sex meant anything.’ She spoke rapidly, as though hurrying her words would make amends with Alan in some way. Seeing that his sombre frown remained, she added, ‘And it was Tessa who started things back at her flat. She got me drunk, touched me up, and said dirty things so I’d get horny.’
It wasn’t the way I remembered the situation but I had more important concerns than Mel’s twisted interpretation of our vodka binge. Nervous perspiration soaked my body. Fear held me tight in its grip. The embarrassment at being naked was quickly replaced by the dread of what was about to happen. I hadn’t missed the irony of the fact that, on the night when I became immortal, I was going to die. But I couldn’t take any solace from the black humour of that thought.
‘Would you have wanted to watch us?’ Mel asked slyly.
Alan blushed. He tried to cover the reaction with a bluster of anger but it wasn’t convincing. ‘You really are the spawn of Satan, aren’t you?’
Mel giggled. She kept one hand holding my arms above my head but she used the other to reach for my breasts and tease one nipple erect. Her finger slid softly around the areola. She squeezed the bud of flesh lightly between her finger and thumb. I didn’t want to be excited by the contact but I was in no position to keep my responses contained. Staggered that I could still be aroused, even though I was held in such a perilous situation, I drew a ragged breath and stared helplessly up at her.
Mel glanced at Alan.
‘You would have wanted to watch, wouldn’t you?’
‘I should put that stake through your black heart.’
‘That’s strange,’ Mel mused.
‘What’s strange?’ Alan scowled.
She moved her fingers to my other breast and teased the nipple until it stood erect. I trembled and whimpered but neither of them acknowledged me. My cheeks burnt crimson and I tried to implore both of them with silent pleas for assistance. But my requirements weren’t on their radar.
Once Bitten Page 5