The Vampire's Slave (Tales of Vampires Book 1)

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The Vampire's Slave (Tales of Vampires Book 1) Page 4

by Zara Novak


  Eric watched the man, while squeezing his fingers around the hard edge of the leather clad stool. Unlike many of the other vampires at Castle Belmont, Eric did have an air of patience about him, something he had learned while growing up underneath his maliciously stubborn father. If kept too long from simple pleasures like blood or sex, vampires would quickly become short and agitated.

  Ira didn’t tolerate impatience, and any one who dared to push him, quickly found themselves on the end of his sharp tongue. He took no time in reminding anyone who cared to complain, that the service he was providing to them was a benefit, not a luxury, and he could withdraw it anytime he wished.

  Eric had never complained, unlike others he was grateful for the service that Ira provided. Over the last few years Eric’s taste for the hunt had dissipated, replaced only by the ever constant and irremovable thirst for blood. He’d tried to wean himself from the dark nectar, but found it next to impossible. Reducing his usual intake by even the barest fraction brought out splitting headaches and agonizing lethargy across his whole body. He hadn’t hunted a real person in almost three years, and even then, he’d done so with much reluctance. He’d been traveling across Europe on business for the family when the supply in their caravan had been damaged in a storm. There were always networks, always places a well known vampire like a Belmont could go to get blood, but even in the deadest remote of ancient Europe, Eric was loathe to find he had reached an impasse. He’d resorted to taking to a small village, and in the dead of the night, he abducted a young girl. Perhaps only twenty. He’d tried to take just enough to keep him going, just enough to let her live. In his mind he knew that she had died however, even though he hadn’t stuck around to see the outcome.

  Since then he’d been especially careful to keep stocks of blood, and he was paramount in helping Ira develop the blood stores within the castle. A special wing had been constructed underground, which was climate controlled, and protected by a number of backup generators. Blood of all types was kept, although if Eric was honest with himself he could never taste the difference. The key difference was the person, younger was better. But not too young. An adult in their prime was best, and he had a preference for women, but everyone was different.

  His dependency on blood was another tome of walking shame for him. Every meal was a disappointment. An essential and invigorating disappointment.

  “You seem on edge today Master Belmont.” Ira pottered about gathering supplies, casting a wry smile in Eric’s direction.

  Eric steeled his jaw, took a deep breath and tried to remind himself that patience was important with Ira. Normally he could bare to wait, even when the shadows within him were screaming out for sustenance. Today however, his patience was almost non-existent. He craved something even greater than blood, and if he hadn’t have been scared he might do something stupid with Claire in blood thirst, he would have skipped this meal altogether.

  He wanted the girl, and he wanted her badly. He wanted her so badly that it surprised him. He was Eric Belmont. The immortal bachelor, the heir to the Belmont empire. He didn’t have time for girls, and he certainly didn’t have time for love. There had been times in the past, decades ago, when he thought he might have loved slaves, but it had always just turned out to be deep rooted lust.

  Slaves were just things at the end of the day, and things always got broken in Castle Belmont, especially with a brother like Wraith running around. Eric wasted no time getting upset over it, he’d long since accepted it as a fact of life. He’d find a new slave, drink from her for a while and he’d come home one day to find her dead or broken, after Wraith had had his wicked way with her.

  Eric had never understood the young lunatic he was forced to call a brother. Eric never saw sense in torture, never saw pleasure in mindless murder. These were the things his brother thrived upon however, and he had murdered so many of Eric’s slaves on purpose, just to get a rise out of him. There might have been a time when it had worked, but it had been a long time since Eric could remember his brother’s escapades really getting to him. He didn’t hold any ill will against his brother, ultimately he knew that it wasn’t his fault. He just wished there was something he could to change him.

  He’d barely had Claire twenty four hours, and already he could feel something changing within him, a change that was greater than any he had known in his three hundred years. It scared him, and it excited him at the same time.

  He wanted Claire. He wanted her all to himself. To be away from her for even just a few minutes felt like pain. As soon as he was done with Ira, he’d take an extra supply of blood for the weekend, and he’d hole himself up in the room with his new obsession. His mind was hell bent one thing, and that was delivering as much pleasure to her as possible over the next few days. Even if the act hadn’t served the purpose of making their inevitable mating more effective, he would have partaken in it gladly. He cast his mind over the bath they had shared just some time ago, groaning inwardly as his cock grew in his pants. He thought about the softness of her nipple, the firmness of her ass. How pale and beautiful her skin was. How her pussy had felt when he had cupped it in his hand.

  His cock turned to steel, pushing against the tight fabric of his charcoal jeans. He shifted in the seat, leather squeaking beneath him as he did so.

  “And you’re usually so much more chatty.”

  Eric looked up to see that Ira was standing in front of him. He’d been in such deep thought over Claire, he’d completely forgot he was in the room. In front of Ira was the stainless steel cart, on which was Eric’s dose for the morning.

  “Two pints. Renal, duagenarian. This is a really good one.” Ira took a small shot glass from off the counter and supped at it. Eric blinked hard, breathing his frustration out. Ira had a penchant for flourish. Sometimes he wish the man would just speak normally. Blood from the kidneys of a twenty year old. That’s all his blather had meant. He smiled at the doctor politely, taking a pint from off the counter, and finished it quickly.

  “My, someone is hungry.” Ira stared at him wide eyed. Eric ignored the comment, grabbed the second pint and drank from the glass deeply. He set the glass back on the metal cart and wiped his hand across the back of his mouth. He glanced at Ira, and saw the man was staring down at him with squinting suspicion.

  “What are you up to today? It’s not like you to be in a rush, and I know rush when I see it.”

  “Nothing.” Eric stood up, stretching his stiff body in his clothes. “I just have things that I need to do. Stuff for the family. You know what’s it like.”

  Ira nodded his head as if he did know. “Heir of Belmont, transformative times, succession of power to a younger and more powerful vampire… lots to do I suppose.” Ira spoke in long and rambling sentences, which were hard to keep up with for those unfamiliar with his cadence. To Eric, it was nothing too hard, he’d kept the company of the man for several decades now.

  “Yes, well.” Eric started for the door. “I have to be off now.”

  “Very busy it would seem.” Ira said with curious remark.

  Eric stopped, recalling the last words he had shared with Claire. The delicious and enticing words that had his cock on end nearly all morning. He turned back to Ira, the man that had more knowledge than any other in Castle Belmont, and he cleared his throat.

  “Ira. I was wondering. You know when a vampire is with a breeder?”

  “Human?”

  “Yes. It’s known that arousal should be at peak levels before consummation…”

  “Yes, in order to fully make sure the breeder is ready.” Ira recited the words as if reading from an old medical book.

  “Well. What about…” Eric almost flushed in the cheeks at the absurdity of the question. “What about anal sex? Would that disturb the readiness or…”

  He faded off, hoping that the bulk of the brief question had been significant enough.

  A curious smile spread across Ira’s face and he shook his head.

  “What are yo
u up to up there Master Belmont? I do wonder sometimes… but no. To answer your question, I don’t believe that would have any adverse effect on the breeding process. In fact, I think it would work quite on the contrary, in heightening the breeder’s arousal.”

  Eric’s eyes widened in excitement. “Really?”

  “Oh yes. I remember reading an entry in the Belmont family archives. The diary of Belladonna Vandark.”

  “Belladonna? She’s not of our line.” Eric’s ears turned at the name. Belladonna Vandark. Her name was an infamous one. While most vampires knew a generous amount of sexual deviancy, Belladonna Vandark was on a whole other level.

  “No, you’re right. But there was a time in the early 1900’s when I was an archivist for their family. When I left I still had a lot of their affects in my possession for one reason or another. It sat in storage for years but I decided to put in the Belmont archives. I have let Belladonna known, but she seems to care little.”

  “She probably hardly remembers.” Eric laughed. It had been many years since he had met the woman, and she was barely a name on his radar, but he knew that she had grown reclusive and distant to the vampire world in last century.

  “She found herself a male breeder, and she had quite the penchant for anal sex, documenting it thoroughly in her journal.”

  “I bet.” Eric quipped. “But thanks… that’s all I need to know.”

  “Anything I need to know?” Ira rocked onto his tiptoes, holding his arms behind him, neck craned out.

  “Nothing as of yet doctor. Thanks for the blood.”

  “Anytime Eric. Anytime.”

  Eric turned to leave before stopping once more. “And doctor. Could you send up three days worth of supply to my room?”

  Ira’s eyebrows raised slowly. “We really are busy hm… but yes. I can’t see why not. I’ll have one of the servants leave it in your personal cooler.”

  Eric nodded and flew from the room quickly.

  *

  There was a reason for Eric keeping Claire’s presence at the castle secret. Breeders like Claire were rare, and for him to find one, it was something of a treasure. The political climate in Castle Belmont had always been testy. Their line was one of the most powerful, and one of the most respected families on the occidental side of the vampire world. His father, Atticus Belmont, was the current head of the family crest, but his time was coming to an end and he was preparing to hand over the reigns.

  There had been many decades of subterfuge, conspiracy and collusion to try and manipulate the passing of power, but Atticus had done a good job of keeping order within the castle. Things were set to pass to Eric. There were several brothers and uncles, and even aunts, that would like to take the throne, but Atticus had managed to satiate their power for thirst by giving them power in far and distant places. It was a brilliant strategy that had worked for the most part. The only vampires left in the Castle itself were the ones suspected to have no ulterior motives, no desire to usurp or scramble desperately for power when the chance presented itself.

  Eric knew better. As much as he and his father had tried to clean the castle of filth, it was always wise to watch one’s back. Eric’s claim for inheritance was already a strong one. He was the oldest heir, he was respected and he was powerful. His younger brother for the most part accepted this, but his brother Wraith was a problem, as he was in all facets of life. Eric knew that Wraith would accept the passing of power, but he knew that he was also conspiring to overthrow him as soon as he could.

  With the ability to produce an heir, Eric had a distinct advantage over his brother and sisters, who as of yet, had no means to reproduce themselves. Before claiming her, Claire would be fair game to any vampire who wanted her. This is why it was important for Eric to mate and turn her as fast as possible. After the initial mating, he would be bonded to her and he could turn her. Turning her before that would negate her breeding ability. Upon turning Claire would be a fertile vampire, an extreme rarity, and one that would be respected by every vampire in the world. It would bring power, and it would bring advantage.

  However great the political advantages of having an heir, they were the last on the list of Eric’s motivations for taking Claire. Eric couldn’t care less about securing his inheritance of the throne. His first and greatest motivation had been just to have an heir, a child was what he had wanted more than anything in the world. But even this had slipped now, pushed under the ebb and flow of the pure carnal desire that he felt for Claire and the desire he felt to keep her safe.

  He rushed back to his room with great haste, and when he got there, he was terrified to see that Claire was gone.

  “Claire?”

  Eric walked about the room quickly, his eyes scanning in every direction.

  “Claire, it’s Eric. Where are you?”

  The lack of response stirred torment in Eric’s chest. He stood for a moment, listening, clenching his fists in angst, squeezing his nails into the palms of his hands.

  He cast his eyes all around the room, from the bed in front of him to the study on the right and back to the bathroom on the left.

  The bathroom.

  He had told her the hairdryer was in there. He noticed she’d removed the lingerie from the box on the chaise lounge. Just the thought of seeing her in it got him hard again. He stalked across room to the en suite, and pushed the door open.

  He saw the bodies of the three naked girls in the tub and turned from the scene immediately, pushing his hand into the bridge of his nose.

  Wraith.

  That cretinous bastard. The last time he had seen him was just before he’d left for the city, to collect Claire. He’d passed Wraith in a corridor in the original part of the Castle.

  “In a hurry brother? I’ve left a surprise for you in your wing. You’ll find it. I’m sure.”

  He’d cackled with brazen inanity as Eric had pushed past him. He was used to his brother’s games, but there had been no time to pay him any attention. This must have been the surprise that Wraith had mentioned. Three young women, dead in his personal bathroom. Murdered simply for the pleasure of entertaining Wraith briefly. Eric’s body shook with rage. He knew instantly what had happened. Claire must have found the bodies, and she must have assumed that they were Eric’s. Why wouldn’t she? They were in his bathroom after all.

  She must have run. She was obviously somewhere in the castle. Eric knew that it was impossible for her to escape, there was no way out of the castle on foot, so she must be inside it somewhere, hiding. Blood thundered through his temples as he stood, chest heaving, contemplating how to find her.

  He closed his eyes and took a deep breath. There was a connection between them, no matter how faint. If he could tune everything out and focus on her, there was a possibility he might be able to find her.

  He drew another deep breath, tasting the air of the castle. Dust, varnish, wood, leather. These were all things that were a permanence in the air of Belmont. He sought past that, looking further. There was a trace of her on the air, a trace of her delicious floral sent, singed with fright. He could almost taste her fear, the way she had felt when she had seen the bodies.

  She had left the room in a hurry, turned down the corridor and headed in the direction of the South East staircase. Eric ran, following the scent quickly. It was then that the second sight hit him. He froze in the corridor, steadying himself against a stone wall with his hand as his eyes glazed over.

  He saw the bodies, he felt her fear. She had turned quickly and ran. She ran the length of the corridor, until she came to the staircase.

  No. Eric begged in his mind, even though he knew he was only watching a trace of something that had already been.

  She took the stairs, she ran quickly and quietly, all the way to the bottom, until she reached the twelfth floor. His floor. Wraith’s floor.

  No.

  He heard the sound of a door opening, and then the vision faded away.

  Eric ran at once, moving down the corridor with g
reat speed. Claire had wondered onto one of the most dangerous floors in the Castle, the floor of his twisted and insane brother, Wraith. If Wraith found Claire before Eric did, it wouldn’t be long until she was dead.

  Eric turned at the stairs, launching down the flight in one swift jump. He kicked his foot off the wall on the landing and launched in the opposite direction down the next flight, moving like this until he was at the bottom.

  He could sense her completely now. She had turned right down the corridor, heading in the direction of the library. She wasn’t alone however. Wraith was in there too.

  *

  As soon as Eric threw open the great doors of the library, he saw his brother standing naked, Claire doubled over in front of him, her lingerie ripped to shreds. Upon hearing the doors Wraith looked over his shoulder with an expression of fury etched on his face, indignant that someone would dare disturb his playtime.

  To Claire, everything that happened in those next three seconds, was an imperceptible blur of noise and movement.

  To Eric however, he movement was swift and keen preciseness. He launched from the door to his brother’s place with inhuman speed. Wraith turned to meet his brother, matching his speed. The fury that had been on his face had slipped to fear, and immediately he could sense that some line had been crossed. Wraith threw his arms up to block his brother’s attack, but he wasn’t fast enough to match the rage that was driving Eric forward.

  Eric launched up into the air, turning his body forward as he did so, until he was above Wraith with his hands pointed down at him. He seized him by the jaw and held tight. Eric continued to soar through the library, his body turning as he did so, until he was upright once more. At the end of his first revolution he let his brother’s head slip from his grasp, launching his body across the remainder of the library until it crashed into the windows at the far end of the room.

 

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