Blood Vengeance

by L. E. Wilson

  They'd brought Luukas down to the cell next to hers a few months after he’d arrived. How long ago was that now? Three years? Five? Keira had lost track.

  She’d cringed under her blanket in the corner of her cell as they’d passed by, praying he wouldn’t see her, and relieved beyond measure when he hadn’t looked her way.

  That relief was short-lived, however, for Leeha had soon grown tired of his continued resistance and had started calling Keira into his cell to participate in his “emotional rehabilitation”.

  Forcing her to use her magic, she’d pushed his limits to new heights, torturing him in ways that were so horrendous it made Keira gag, and gave her nightmares whenever she managed to sleep. Luckily, that wasn’t very often.

  If she started feeling rebellious and refused Leeha’s wishes, all it took was a reminder of the threat to Emma to bring her back in line.

  Keira hated herself for what she was doing to him, and that hatred grew more every day. For the gods were cruel - even crueler than Leeha - because somehow, over the years, in the midst of this nightmare, she had fallen for her vampire.

  But she didn’t see any way to get out of her part in all of this; at least not until she could get them out of there, and saw for herself that her sister was safe.

  However, now that she was in the same cell, maybe there was something she could do to relieve his suffering, if only a little.

  Pushing herself up off the floor, she walked over to the door and stood on her tiptoes until she could see out of the small window. A dirty-blonde head was on the other side, and Keira sent up a silent thanks. She knew this guard. He liked to leer at her through the door of her cell whenever she tried to wash herself with what little water they allowed her. Not that it helped much, without a change of clothes.

  She’d been embarrassed at first, but eventually, she’d gotten over it. Let him look. Leeha wouldn’t let anyone touch her. She needed Keira's magic to enable her to take out her sick frustrations on Luukas.

  “Hey,” she whispered. She knew he’d hear her. Vamps had excellent hearing.

  He didn’t turn around, but the slight tilt of his head told her that he was listening. Keeping her voice down, she made her play. “I have an offer for you, Blondie. Have they brought your dinner yet?” He turned his head slightly to the right and back to the left. “Ok. Good. I’ll make you a deal. If you let me have your dinner, no questions asked, I’ll provide you with a better one. Something from a real, live human, if you get what I mean.” Lifting her arm, she waved her bare wrist back and forth in front of the small opening, smiling bitterly as his head whipped towards it and he inhaled deeply.

  The guards were fed blood bags shortly after nightfall. Keira knew this because she’d heard them talking about it. She also knew that they detested bagged blood by the way they bitched about it. “Do we have a deal?”

  She could practically hear him salivating as he gave a sharp nod.

  She nodded back, even though he couldn’t see her. Ok then. “Good.”

  As she headed back to her corner, she hoped like hell that this particular vampire had some semblance of self-control, and wouldn’t get carried away with his meal. At least he seemed somewhat sane, unlike her new cellmate.

  Chapter 3

  Leeha

  After leaving Luukas’ cell, Leeha went straight to her private chambers. Closing the door, she locked it securely behind her. She needed a good soak in a nice, hot bath. This business with Luukas was making her entirely too tense. He was just so stubborn. Most males would have broken years ago, but the fact that he hadn’t only made her want him more. A lot of males looked good, but inner strength like that was so hard to find these days.

  A delicious shiver ran down her spine as she envisioned that strength moving above her in her bed. She’d never had sex with the Master vampire, but she fantasized about it all the time when she was alone, and when she was fucking someone else. Imagining she was with Luukas was the only way she could get her pleasure.

  Strolling over to her dressing table, she sat down to take off her ruby necklace. She rubbed her fingers over the stone lovingly. It was her favorite piece of jewelry. Her father had given it to her shortly before he was put to death for creating her.

  It matched her eyes.

  She missed him, her creator. He’d taken her from a life of neglect and starvation with the humans and adopted her into his family, protecting her and caring for her like she was his very own child.

  In return, all he’d asked of her was a tiny little sip of her blood when he tucked her in at night.

  A child’s blood, he’d told her, was the best blood of all. It was fresh and innocent and pure, unlike an adult’s blood, which had been muddied up with evil thoughts and deeds.

  The first few nights after her arrival, she’d been frightened when he’d snuggled up behind her in her new bed, but he’d been so very gentle with her, just as a real father would. Pulling her hair back off of her neck, he’d inhale deeply, and tell her how very sweet she smelled.

  She’d barely felt his fangs sliding into the tender skin of her neck, and when he’d start to drink, pulling on the vein, it had actually felt kind of ...good.

  Over time, as she’d matured, he’d spent more and more time with her while “tucking her in”. After he’d taken his nightly drink, he would pull her in close to him, whispering things in her ear; wicked things that made her skin burn and her body tense up with apprehension. He would pet her as he talked to her, running his hand down her arm and up her thigh, calming her.

  He would tell her that she was beautiful, and that she was destined for greatness. He'd tell her that she was going to be queen someday, and lead beside their Master. He’d tell her he needed to prepare her for that day, so that by the time she was of age, Lukas wouldn’t be able to resist her.

  His petting had become more and more aggressive, his words more urgent, until finally, one night, he’d taken her innocence and made her a woman.

  She’d liked the idea of being queen.

  When she was twenty-five in human years, her father had turned her into what he was, without Luukas’ permission: Illegally, as it turned out. She had woken up as a vampire, half mad with thirst, and her father had been there with someone for her to drink.

  They had shared the young girl’s blood, and when she'd had her fill, Leeha had watched as her father had raped the human before draining her dry. He wasn’t loving with the girl like he was with her. She was only a human, he’d explained. Not special like Leeha.

  When he'd brought her a new meal the next night, she’d joined in on the rape.

  A month later, her father had proclaimed her ready to approach Luukas. He will not be able to resist you! he’d announced.

  But he’d been wrong.

  Luukas had stared at her like she had grown two heads when she’d finally gained an audience with him, demanding to know where she had come from, and who had turned her.

  Taking off her dress, she’d offered him her body, explaining to him how her father had prepared her to rule by his side, and to please him in bed. Swiftly getting over his shock, Luukas had ordered her to dress herself, and gently but sternly told her that her father was horribly misguided.

  He’d apologized for her suffering, and told her he would have removed her from the household if he had known what had been happening there.

  He’d called a female vampire who lived in his building, and had her take Leeha to her home to live until he’d dealt with her father.

  A week later, he’d burned her father to death in the mountains outside of Seattle.

  Grabbing her hairbrush, she brushed her hair up off of her neck with angry strokes, securing it with a clip. Admiring her reflection in the mirror, a small smile suddenly turned up the corners of her lips.

  “If you’re going to spy on me,” she chided, “you may as well come over here and help me get out of this gown.”

  After a moment, Josiah, her young apprentice, crept out from where
he’d been lurking in the bathroom. “I’m sorry, mistress. I was only in here checking that you have everything you need when you walked in. You surprised me is all, and it seemed like you wanted to be alone.”

  She followed his movements in the mirror as he came up behind her and unzipped her gown. If his skin hadn't been so dark, she would’ve sworn he was blushing.

  “It’s all right, Josiah. You can help me with my bath.”

  His eyes flew up to meet hers in the mirror, before he quickly dropped them again. But not before she'd seen his complete adoration for her.

  “Anything you need.”

  Kicking off her heels, she stood and sashayed into the bath, the bare skin of her back tingling under his scorching gaze. Josiah was her greatest admirer, she knew, and he was often useful. However, he still had so much to learn.

  Turning on the water, she added some lavender to her oversized tub, inhaling the calming scent before dealing with his actions earlier.

  “What I need,” she told him, as she came back into the room, “is someone who doesn’t flee in fear from a hateful look.”

  Josiah hung his head in shame. “You’re right, of course. I don’t know why I let him get to me. It’s not like he can hurt me.”

  She caressed his cheek with her cold fingers. “No, he can’t. I wouldn’t let him. You are too important to me.”

  Clenching his jaw, he lifted his head, a challenge in his brown eyes. “If I’m so important, what do you need him for? We should remove the witch’s protection of fire and just leave him in the sun to burn. It’s been seven years, Leeha. He’s not going to change his mind. I can rule alongside you. No one will ever be more loyal or love you more than I do.”

  “We’ve discussed this, Josiah,” she told him curtly. “I need him. He’s over six hundred years old, and is the most powerful Master vampire of our time. Whatever example he leads, the rest of our kind will follow."

  She looked him up and down, "Do you really think anyone would follow you? You’re nothing as far as vampires go. You’re barely ten years old. What good is that to me and my plans?”

  Josiah looked away, the muscle in his jaw jumping in anger.

  With a burdened sigh, she softened her tone. “Don’t be cross with me. I’ll let you burn him again tomorrow if it will make you feel better.”

  “Can I whip him too?” he asked petulantly.

  She smiled, “Of course. He’ll heal. A little more slowly these days, but he will.” She left him then to go turn off the bath water. “Come, my love. I’ll let you wash my back. And afterwards, we can discuss the building of our legion.”

  When he didn’t follow right away, she put her hands on her hips, her head tilting jerkily to the side. “Don’t pout, Josiah. It’s not attractive.”

  Dropping his arms to his sides, he heaved a great sigh, unable to resist her. His tongue darted out to lick his lips as Leeha slid her gown off of her pale shoulders and let it drop carelessly to the floor. She wore absolutely nothing underneath.

  “Come, Josiah.” She entreated huskily, holding out her hand to him.

  He ran his hungry eyes from the top of her red hair to her small toes. With a moan of defeat, he pulled off his shirt and followed her into the bathroom to wash her back and anything else she desired him to.

  Chapter 4

  Luukas

  Luukas fought his way up through the blackness, driven by an urgency he couldn’t name. But as he faded in and out of consciousness, the throbbing agony that comprised his physical form tried to pull him back down into the sweet depths of nothingness.

  He wanted to let it take him, so badly, but no…he needed to stay awake.

  Bit by bit, he became aware of a soft, slurping sound that seemed out of place in this, his own personal hell. Attempting to quiet his ragged breathing, he listened closer.

  He heard the consistent drip, drip, drip of the water he could never taste, and he heard the light pitter-patter of the rats as they scurried down the hall outside his cell.

  His stomach clenched. Ah, gods…were they eating him again?

  It wouldn’t be the first time he’d awoken to find them chewing on his wounds as he hung there, their soft squeaks clawing at his sanity…but no, that wasn’t what he heard this time. This was more of a sucking sound.

  His eyes cracked opened as another sound came to his ears, a voice: the angel’s voice.

  “Stop,” she whispered. “You need to stop now.”

  Luukas squeezed his eyes shut again in disbelief. He had to be hallucinating.

  The dark-haired angel was still in his cell, pressed up against the wall by the door, her ragged blanket falling from one shoulder.

  She was in the arms of a man. He was hunched over her, and he was kissing her neck.

  He heard her whimper and his eyes popped open again. They were still there. He wasn’t hallucinating.

  As he watched, his angel began to struggle in the blonde man’s arms, and her voice got sharper and more frantic.

  “Stop! You have to stop!”

  The man didn’t stop. A low growl reverberated from deep within Luukas’ throat. His fangs slid down with aggression as he restlessly shifted his weight on his chains. But still, the man didn’t stop kissing her.

  No. Not kissing. Feeding.

  That was no man, but a vampire, and he was feeding from his angel.

  Rage surged through him. A rage such as he'd never felt before.

  She started pounding on the vampire’s head and shoulders with her small fists, trying to break his hold.

  He ignored her like she was nothing more than an annoying gnat, tightening his hold on her as she struggled.

  Luukas strained against his chains, the sounds erupting from deep within his chest becoming animalistic in nature as he fought to get to her.

  All of the noise must have finally disturbed the feeding vampire. His head jerked up from her neck, leaving ragged gashes where he had bitten her. He released her from his hold and stepped back, not bothering to heal the torn flesh.

  Luukas roared with fury at the sight, lurching towards the other vampire with bared fangs and mad, wild eyes. The chains clanged loudly as they pulled him up short, but the pain of his shoulders and body didn’t even register past his overwhelming need to kill the other vampire.

  MINE!

  The bastard smiled at him as he casually wiped the blood from his mouth with the back of his hand, then sauntered out of the cell, pulling the door shut behind him and locking it again with a clank.

  Yanking impatiently on his chains, Luukas lunged towards the door, his fangs aching painfully with the need to rip into the fucking bastard.

  His roar of frustration echoed through the cell when the chains still wouldn’t give. After a minute or so, he finally gave up and fell back against the rock wall, chest heaving with exhaustion, shoulders throbbing.

  A small movement out of the corner of his eye caught his attention. He whipped his head around to the girl, who was trying to staunch the flow of blood from her neck with an edge of the threadbare blanket. She didn’t look at him as she ripped off long strips of it, wadding one up to apply pressure and tying the other around her throat to hold it there.

  His top lip pulled back off of his fangs in a snarl as the smell of her blood permeated the small room; the overwhelming need of his thirst so intense, he nearly passed out again.

  She must have sensed the change in him, for her hazel eyes flashed up to his, widening slightly as she took him in. Quickly, she crouched down and picked something up off of the floor.

  She eyed him warily for a moment, seeming to gather up her nerve, before cautiously coming toward him, staying just out of his reach.

  Closing his eyes, he inhaled her scent, groaning aloud at the unbelievable smell of her. Ah. Gods. She was torturing him.

  Then she spoke. “I have something for you, and I know it will be hard, but you have to try to keep it under control.”

  His eyes snapped open in confusion, to find her
fiddling with a blood bag.

  A fucking plastic blood bag.

  He nearly laughed out loud. After all the shit he gave his brother, Nikulas, for drinking those things, and here he was, thinking nothing had ever looked better to him.

  Except for the female tampering with the seal.

  Finally managing to get it open, she glanced up at him with an apologetic look. “I’m sorry. I know these things taste like crap, or so I hear, but I couldn’t take the risk of letting you drink from me with the condition you're in.” She started to raise it to his mouth, pausing midair as she begged him once more, “Please. Control yourself, Luukas. Don’t make me force you to. I promise I’ll get you more blood as soon as I can.” With that, she raised the bag the rest of the way up to his mouth.

  Luukas’ eyes rolled back in his head as the first drops hit his parched tongue. Sucking hard, he swallowed greedily as she poured the nasty stuff down his throat, and fought the urge to spit it back out.

  Immediately, he felt the life giving fluid flooding his desiccated cells, the pain of his broken body flaring temporarily before it began to heal him.

  But it wasn’t enough…wasn’t nearly enough. He needed more.

  He desperately clamped his teeth down on the bag when she tried to pull it away.

  “It’s all gone,” she told him firmly. “Let go.”

  But he couldn’t let go.

  She yanked it away from him, and he went into full survival mode, fighting for his meal, only to find himself thrown back against the wall and unable to move.

  He smashed his head back into the wall with a loud roar of frustration, muscles pulled taut as he strained against her hold.

  “Luukas! Stop it!” she ordered. “I won’t let you hurt yourself more!”

  Chest heaving with harsh breaths, he closed his eyes. He could still feel the blood working its way throughout his system. He tried to concentrate on that, and not on his lingering thirst, but it was impossible.

  “More,” he rasped out.

  “I don’t have any more, but I’ll get you some at next meal,” she promised. “Just hang in there, big guy.”