‘I do not want a priest to watch the conclusion to this ritual,’ the booming voice declared. He fixed me with a pointed finger that protruded from his sackcloth robe. ‘But you do not look so delicate. You may come and watch the fourth stage of this ritual.’
Nervous bile rose to the back of my throat.
The first three stages, as I remembered, were: capture, containment, and then purification. The fifth stage – the final stage – was the destruction of the vampire. The penultimate stage was the ordeal that Carlos had described as the nameless torment.
As though in a haze, I walked slowly to the chancel.
Mel wriggled on the altar but she didn’t seem to recognise me. I suppose that was understandable and forgivable. I’d changed my image considerably since we were last together. The combination of Gucci jeans and a wash-weary T was now a thing of the past. Dressed in a slinky black dress, and with my eyes hidden behind the Raybans, I no longer looked anything like the old, mortal Tessa Cameron.
But Mel still looked like the woman I had known before.
Her flesh was glossy with perspiration. Her hair had been slicked back from her brow and jewels of sweat clung to her brow. Her eyes were open wide, staring at me, then at the legion, and I didn’t know if she was in a state of euphoria, shock or trepidation. Studying the lunatic glint in her expression, I thought it was safe to say that Mel didn’t know which state she was in either.
‘You should have been here for the purification.’
I closed my eyes and tried not to think what that would have been like. I had endured versions of that aspect of the ritual and knew Mel would have been scalded with holy water and scourged by crucifixes. Glancing at her body, seeing the stiff tips of her nipples and the pouting split of her sex, I understood she had already suffered those torments. I could also see she responded with the same devilish pleasure that I had enjoyed.
The phenomenal prowess of her healing abilities had already worked its miracle and transformed her flesh to a pale and unbroken porcelain. But, as a vampire, I could detect that her pussy lips had been scalded by the boiling sting of holy water. Drawing a deep breath and reading the scents that lingered beneath the incense I knew the vicious heat of the crucifix had burnt her breasts. Her ordeal was easy to envision and I knew they had taken her to extremes of torturous arousal.
Unconsciously, I licked my lips and quietly savoured the memory of tasting Mel’s most intimate creases. The thought inspired a shiver of delicious pleasure. ‘You shouldn’t be putting her through this,’ I declared.
‘Is she complaining?’
I glanced at Mel. Her features were wild with erotic delirium. She was beyond knowing what was good for her and seemed fixated only on the next rush of satisfaction. Her gaze flickered hungrily from one member of the legion to another, eagerly appraising and constantly leering.
I glanced quickly around the empty body of the church, wishing I could see a friendly face, or a promise of help. Carlos was supposed to have been the first wave of the rescue but he was nowhere to be seen. If I truly wanted to release my friend from the danger she faced I knew it was time to make a personal sacrifice.
‘What do I have to do to save her?’
‘There is nothing you can do,’ the leader of the legion said flatly. He turned to face me and, for an instant, appeared less human than any creature I had ever known. His broad bulk was intimidating. His face was concealed in the deep shadows of his hood. His voice came from some dismal depth that was dark and unfathomable. ‘Interfere with this ritual, and you will earn my displeasure, is that clear?’
I nodded. I didn’t agree with the condition, and if Mel looked like she wanted me to help her I wouldn’t let the legion of vampire hunters stand in my way. But I was aware that my presence wouldn’t be tolerated unless I agreed.
‘That’s clear,’ I said, stepping off the chancel.
As soon as I had said the words, the three monks fell on her.
Mel squealed with surprise when one of them sucked at her left breast. The cry turned to outrage when another pressed a crucifix over her right. The third had his hood buried between her legs and I could hear the greedy sound of his liquid guzzling as he licked and lapped at her sex.
Her arms pulled tight against the restraints of her bondage.
She bucked and thrashed and fought against the unwanted attention.
But, as I stared at her face, I knew it wasn’t a true ordeal. The pleasurable aspect of the torture clearly had benefits that outweighed the pain. From my own experiences I had discovered that a vampire’s appetites were more demanding and harder to fulfil. And I suspected she was just as eager to endure the nameless torment as the monks were to provide that service. I remembered some of the antics she had confided during my previous life when we shared coffees in Starbucks. Mel was the up-for-anything, always-ready-for-a-drink-and-a-laugh, slightly-dipsy-pal-I-mated-around-with, and had never been averse to combining lovers. She would often regale me with stories about having two or three men at the same time – often more, and usually with a bondage element to those stories. Aside from the presence of religious paraphernalia, suffering the nameless torment at the hands of the legion of vampire hunters was not much different to many Saturday nights she had previously enjoyed.
But, while that thought assured me Mel could withstand the ordeal, it didn’t ease my worries about the finality of the impending fifth stage.
The trio of monks shifted positions.
The monk that had devoured her pussy began to gnaw at her breast. The monk that had tormented her with a crucifix shifted to the other side of her body. He pinched her nipple between his finger and thumb, chanting Latin insults as she twisted her head from side to side. The third pushed himself between her spread thighs and buried deep into her sex. I hadn’t seen the man produce his erection but, from the way his backside thrust back and forth, I understood exactly what was happening.
‘Ride me,’ Mel gasped. Her words came out as a dry and desperate croak. ‘Ride me hard. I want to come.’
Obligingly, the legion of vampire hunters did as she asked.
The monk between her thighs plunged vigorously back and forth. He pushed deep, exciting a joyous shriek from Mel each time he thrust inside. His accomplices stayed at her breasts, sucking at her nipples and eagerly exciting her to the brink of orgasm. Their hands appeared from the cuffs of their sackcloth robes and they pawed, clawed and caressed her naked figure.
She stiffened and thrashed beneath them, constantly demanding more.
As soon as the first had finished ploughing between her legs, the second took his place. I watched in avaricious horror as Mel greedily implored the monks for further satisfaction.
Every time she climaxed my arousal throbbed louder in sympathy.
The third monk, the leader of the three, took his time with her. He chuckled like the Machiavellian villain of a cartoon melodrama. And, with every thrust, he took Mel screeching to a new level of distraught satisfaction. When he climaxed, holding himself between her thighs as his length repeatedly pumped into her, I watched a beatific smile cross her lips.
And then the whole process began again.
Mel screamed with joy as each man pushed back into her. Her features were strained and ugly from the throes of too much satisfaction. Sweat plastered her hair slick against her scalp and her body looked scrawny and depleted from its excessive diet of sexual ecstasy. If she had ever had the strength to pull herself free from the bondage I could see it had now been drained from her weary, exhausted body.
And, while I envied her the satisfaction she was enjoying, I knew the torment had to be brought to an end. Boldly, I stepped back onto the chancel.
‘I want to talk to her!’
The leader turned to glare at me. ‘You were warned,’ he growled angrily. ‘I said that you would earn my displeasure if you interrupted the ritual. Do you want me to cast you from this church?’
‘I want to talk to my friend,’ I said firmly.
I tried to think of words that would make my argument compelling but nothing came to my mind. The legion weren’t going to respond to pleas for compassion. Because there were three of them and only one of me I knew they couldn’t be bullied. I was still struggling to think of a reason to press my case when the leader simply shrugged and stepped aside.
‘Very well,’ he decided. He snapped his fingers and gestured for the other monks to move away from Mel. ‘Talk to her, if you must.’ With a cruel laugh he added, ‘But be sure to say goodbye.’
I rushed to the side of the altar and hugged her bare body tight. ‘Mel,’ I whispered. ‘Mel? Are you OK? I’m here to save you.’
‘Tessa?’ she gasped. ‘Tessa? Sweetie? Is that really you?’
I lifted the Raybans and winked from beneath them.
She graced me with a smile of pure gratitude. ‘I was wondering when you’d show up,’ she laughed. ‘Me and the boys were just getting to the good part. I figured you might arrive with a bottle of vodka so you could gatecrash the fun.’
I grimaced, wishing I had been cool enough to think about bringing a bottle of vodka. ‘Did you notice that Alan was here before?’
‘No!’ She blushed. ‘He must think I’m a real slut,’ she muttered.
I considered reminding her that she was a real slut, but adding that Alan seemed willing to overlook that flaw in her personality. But I couldn’t think of a way to phrase the comment without it sounding judgemental. ‘Alan came here to plead with the leader of the legion. It was very romantic. He said he wanted to ask a special favour. He wanted to take you into his personal care.’
Her eyes grew wide with hope. ‘You’re kidding?’
I shook my head.
She glanced into the darkened shadows that shrouded the pews. ‘Is Alan still here?’
‘No. They threw him out of here earlier.’ When I saw that disappointment made her smile fall, I added quickly, ‘But it was really romantic, sweetie. And you can go and get back with him as soon as I’ve got you out of here.’
She shook her head and glared bitterly at the hooded figures that had gathered on the opposite side of the chancel. In a dismal voice she said, ‘That’s not going to happen, is it?’
‘Of course it’s going to happen,’ I insisted. ‘Don’t you remember what we’ve always said? True love lasts forever. True love conquers all.’
Her eyes widened with a brief moment’s hope.
‘And,’ I added proudly. ‘I’m not here to save you on my own. I’ve spent the last couple of days trying to sort things out and I’ve got help from your old boyfriend, Carlos.’
She glared at me and wailed.
Her screams had been disconcerting before but this sound came as though it had been borne from the blackest agony. The cry rippled from the high-domed ceiling of the church and resounded against the stained-glass windows. ‘Not Carlos,’ she pleaded. ‘Please tell me you didn’t go to that bastard for help.’
I stepped back, sure this wasn’t the response I had hoped for.
‘Give me a choice between these sadistic bastards and Carlos and I’d pick the legion of vampire hunters every time.’ Her cheeks were red with outrage. Her eyes were glassy with the threat of tears. She looked genuinely pained and I realised, while the legion had been punishing her for the past two days, I had been the first one to make her cry.
Uncertainly, I laughed. ‘You’re kidding me, right.’
‘No I’m not kidding you, sweetie.’
She rolled her eyes and I felt stupid for not having understood more. Her pain and distress were genuine and honest and I was a fool not to have thought about the ramifications of my actions.
‘Carlos was the one who made me a vampire,’ Tessa gasped. ‘Aside from a short holiday to America in the 60s, when I had a severe crush on John Lennon, Carlos kept me as part of his harem for my first hundred years as a vampire. It’s only since I started seeing Alan that I’ve been able to escape from Carlos’s diabolical clutches.’ Shaking her head with misery, looking so defeated I could feel her pain, she closed her eyes against the threat of tears and said, ‘If you’ve enlisted Carlos to help, I’ll be obligated to the bastard for another miserable century or more.’
She turned her face away and wept.
I stuttered an apology that almost choked me. After all I’d been through it seemed bizarre that I should apologise for bringing the wrong rescuer to assist Mel. But, if Carlos was the monster that Mel suggested – and I found it easy to believe he was such a villainous creature – then I obviously deserved her contempt.
‘How was I to know?’ I pleaded.
‘Didn’t you see the vision when I made you?’
I remembered the pictures that had flooded my thoughts when Mel transformed me into a vampire. The swarthy sire that had seduced her – taken her in his embrace and then greedily drunk from her throat. At the time I hadn’t been sure what I was seeing. Now I understood Carlos had been the one who turned Mel into a vampire. The realisation was so clear I could hear him whispering, ‘Now, you are a wampire.’
I could have asked how I was supposed to know that she wanted no help from Carlos, but that question seemed stupidly redundant. There had been something about those images that left me cold and uneasy. It wasn’t anything I could express in words but there was a definite sensation of disquiet.
And, when I thought about the conversations we had shared where Mel talked about Carlos, I remembered she had said she would rather die than be beholden to him again. In my eager haste to rescue her from the legion, I had dismissed those opinions as exaggerated and too extreme to be taken seriously. But now I could see Mel’s remarks had been made in deadly earnest. The folly of my decision seemed unforgivable and I wondered why I hadn’t listened to Christine’s advice: You don’t want to deal with Carlos san Miguel. He’s untrustworthy.
Trying to see the glass as half full rather than half empty, I said, ‘You probably won’t be obligated to him. He said he was coming to help with the rescue. But he’s not here, is he?’
She glared at me and said, ‘You’re an idiot, Tessa. You don’t know anything, do you?’
I recoiled from her harsh words. I stepped back and found myself stumbling against the leader of the vampire hunters. A moment earlier he had stood on the opposite side of the chancel. Now, with unnatural speed, he appeared directly behind me. The dark shadow inside his hood was broken by the glint of a wicked smile.
Trying not to be daunted by his sudden appearance I made a point of ignoring him and concentrated on winning back my friendship with Mel. ‘Don’t be angry, sweetie,’ I complained. ‘I didn’t do any of this to hurt you. I did it to save you from getting hurt.’
‘You’re an idiot, Tessa. You don’t understand anything, do you?’
I was ready to argue, and politely ask her to stop calling me an idiot because I thought that was unfair and slightly insulting. Before I could say anything in my defence the hooded figure behind me placed a huge hand on my shoulder. I brushed his fingers away and glared at him with the anger of an outraged vampire.
He seemed unperturbed by the threat of my wrath.
‘You came here to rescue your friend?’
‘That’s right.’
‘You came here to defeat my brethren and I?’
I folded my arms and tried to appear confident. ‘That was an option.’
‘And were you planning to do those things alone?’
I sniffed angrily. His tone was condescending and reminded me I hadn’t yet achieved step one of my three-stage plan for a successful evening. ‘I’ve got friends outside here just waiting for my signal,’ I assured him. It wasn’t entirely true. While the three blondes had accompanied me to St Germain’s, I had no way of knowing how I could contact them, or whether they would respond to my summons if they heard it.
But I wasn’t going to share the details of those doubts.
The legion’s leader gave an indolent shrug. It was a gesture that seemed hatefu
lly familiar. ‘Bring in whomever you want,’ he declared. ‘I can summon your accomplices myself, if you think that will help?’ Without waiting for my response he placed two fingers between his lips and whistled.
The shrill sound rang loud and long through the confines of the church. The other two members of the legion turned to study their leader with obvious disquiet but he remained oblivious to their reservations.
‘Know that no one can save you or your friend from the fate I have decreed,’ the leader declared grandly. ‘Know that none of your kind can stand against the legion of wampire hunters.’
And, when he said those words, I understood everything.
Chapter Twenty-three
The blondes flew into the room in a frenzy.
If the legion had wanted to stand any chance of survival, their best choice would have been to run. Instead, because they waited and watched their leader for an indication of what they should do, they were consigned to being vanquished by the vampires.
Two of the blondes pinned one monk to the floor. With vicious speed they removed his hood and exposed his throat. As one drank from his neck the other pushed her breast over his mouth. I could see she had slit the skin above her nipple and I watched the red fluid pour into his open mouth. Although he made attempts to protest at first, his reservations faltered and then vanished as he suckled against her.
The solitary blonde, clearly more confident than the others of her sorority, fluttered her overlong lashes at the remaining monk and took him into her embrace.
Within seconds he was kissing her.
In less than a minute they drank from each other.
I turned to face the leader of the legion. ‘Well done, Carlos,’ I said coolly. ‘You’ve wiped out the legion of vampire hunters.’
He chuckled as he removed the hood to reveal his face. His smile was broad, smug and so self-satisfied I could have slapped him. ‘Removing the legion of wampire hunters was an added bonus,’ he laughed cheerfully. ‘The main reason for my subterfuge was because I had to reclaim Melinda.’ He glanced toward Mel, still secured to the altar, and smiled indulgently.
Once Bitten Page 21