Yet, it is happening.
I no longer fight at this point, now that I’m over a hundred feet high in the air. A fall from this height would leave my face and body unrecognizable. Even my shudder at that thought feels ill-advised.
The two creatures—because let’s face it, real men don’t have wings—speak above my head, wrenching me to the side every now and then in an attempt to steer. They’re speaking Russian. I know enough to catch some of the more frightening words and phrases.
Hours . . . blood . . . pregnant . . . ritual . . .
They know about Liam. They want to either drain or share blood, either is a prospect to which I don’t look forward, and they plan on using it in some ritual. They’re demons! They have to be!
What sin have I committed to earn this punishment? It had to be major to warrant such extremes. And don't demons live under the ground or something? These seem intent on flying ever higher.
It’s so cold way up here. I’m thankful for my current trend of triple, sometimes quadruple layers, but it’s not enough in the wind created by their wings. We’re flying too fast to control my shivers. The clouds above us make it even worse when they release a steady drizzle of ice-cold rain atop us. The creatures laugh at the turn of the weather, while I continue to shiver in their grasps.
It’s too hard to keep track of the tiny, little Lego-like landmarks below us at this speed and height, so I give up on even that. I wish there was something, anything I could do to make me feel like I was fighting back.
After what may have been two hours of flight, just as it could have been five minutes to my addled senses, we start to descend. The beat of the wings above me alters as we shift downward. They’re going to land. The thought fills me with the same dread the liftoff created. They always say the worst part of flying is the takeoff and landing. There’s no way this will be gentle.
I discover my suspicions are right, however the landing is not quite as bad as the bruising experience I expected. The creature to my left releases its hold on me, causing me to scream and reach out for it. It laughs and calls in Russian to the creature still holding me aloft.
I don't know enough to pick out what he’s saying, but I know from the tone that it’s not complimentary, and I have a suspicion there are some expletives mixed in. It cackles and leans forward into a dive for an outcropping in a small mountain structure ahead.
“Please don’t,” I cry out to the one still holding me.
It ignores my pleas, also shifting to a dive, though not quite as fast. When we’re right above the ledge, it throws out its wings, bringing us to a sudden stop. Then it flaps them a couple of times to keep us suspended, as it pushes me away from his body. Against all odds, I reach back and up, trying to keep from being dropped.
It maneuvers me until I hang solely by its grip against my forearms, dangling. I dig into its repulsive skin in desperation. It growls and digs its claws into my wrists, until I feel the skin give and blood trickle down my arms. Another scream escapes as it releases its grip, causing me to drop toward the stone ledge.
“Shut up!”
Oh, I’m still screaming. That must be unacceptable to the creature that caught me. He pulls his arms out from under me, and I drop the remaining couple of feet to the ground. The impact, though small, is jarring. I cradle my stomach. What will all of this do to Liam? How can I protect him against such monsters?
The thing that kidnapped me settles down on the ledge to join the legion of creatures.
Just how many of them are there?
“Get up,” the man who caught me demands.
He doesn't seem as grotesque as the two pilots, but he still isn’t pleasant to me. The moon is a half sliver in the sky, illuminating just enough to keep me terrified. Rain clouds drift over its countenance, causing the darkness to once again conquer all semblance of light. My clothes are soaked by now, and I lie on the ground, shaking.
A kick lands against my right arm before I can attempt to evade it.
“I said, Get. Up.”
My arm will bruise. There’s no question.
They’re strong. Monstrously so.
“What are you?” I whimper, trying to force my arms to cooperate and lift me. The right one keeps buckling underneath my weight. He could have broken it!
“Did your Scot not tell you about your other kinsmen?” the original pilot creature hisses, sounding like a snake.
I hate snakes.
Kinsmen? As in, these creatures are a relation? No way. Everyone has a relative to which they’d rather not lay claim, but this is just too much. Wait, he said Scot. Gavin. Gavin is involved in this! One stupid decision four months ago, and I still can’t escape the consequences.
“Where is Gavin?” I ask.
The most human of the group squats down to my level, as I manage to rise up to my hands and knees. My arm is throbbing under the pressure, but I have a feeling the injury is the least of my worries.
“Your wolf is not here,” he says, leaning in close to my face. I shrink back, but can only go so far. I can’t tell where the edge of the ledge is. They have all the advantages. I have nothing. No sight, no strength, no clue. Wolf?
“And he’ll never get here in time.”
With one hand, he cups my chin. I work my mouth to build spit, but he squeezes my jaw so painfully that I stop and swallow the ammunition.
“You will die here.”
One hand slides down to my stomach once again. I can’t help it. I know I can’t protect Liam right now, but the instinct is still there burning strongly. I have to do something.
The blond man smiles, but it’s not any smile that I’ve ever seen before. It’s chilling. It’s evil. Sharp canines protrude from either side of his mouth. They’re shiny, pearly white in the night, and straight—any dentist’s dream.
“Oh, not to worry, pet. Your offspring will survive. He will thrive.”
He strokes his thumb along my lips.
“All you have to do is submit to our guidance, and maybe you’ll prevent your suffering in death. Who knows? Perhaps one of the horde will take a liking to you, and bestow the transformation and life upon you.”
“Screw you.”
“Ahh. It seems that if you do live, it will be as a slave to my followers. Your impertinence will not be rewarded here, unless you desire pain.”
With those words he strikes, plunging those brilliant white fangs into my neck. He jerks back, my blood staining his lips. It feels like he ripped out a chunk of my neck with the movement. He’s that savage. The bite causes excruciating agony to race from my neck, down toward my heart.
Do these things have venom?
On the other side of my neck, the hickey that never faded burns hotly against my skin. It stings, but after a second the pain disappears, as well as the bite’s agony. His hand is still forceful against my jaw, preventing me from leaning back or lifting a hand to check the damage to my skin.
“He’s already marked you, though not completely. More’s the pity for you, it will take quite a few—what is it the humans are calling it these days?—love bites, to turn you and the unborn one.”
I don’t know which part of his threat to decipher first. Love bites? I don’t do dental. It’s a huge turnoff. And marked? Is he referring to the hickey? Since when do hickeys have some sort of magical power? And just how long will it last?
He leans forward once again, causing me to whimper at the threat. He’s feral. He’s caused more pain and terror in the last five minutes than I’ve endured from any other in my twenty-three years of life.
“I think I’ll enjoy taming you. Oh, yes, we’ll all enjoy this endeavor indeed.”
His fingers leave my chin. The loss of support causes me to drop down once again. I huddle at the edge, eyeing the mass of gargoyle bodies in front of me with a combination of resignation and just an ember of fight.
If Gavin is not one of them, but is known to them, maybe he’ll come to rescue me. It seems like a far off hope that is unlik
ely at best and impossible at worst. Yet, I have nothing else. I’m carrying his child, and though I’m loath to admit that, I’m pretty sure he knows it if our store confrontation is anything to go by. Even if he doesn’t care to save me, surely he’ll expend the effort for his own flesh and blood?
Flesh and blood. Not the best thing to be considering right now. The blond leader stands, and motions to one of the pilots. At the signal, the gargoyle grabs me up and drags me toward the entrance in the mountain.
No! While this all played out on the ledge, I at least had an inkling of light every now and then with the intermittent moon’s glow. It gave me a slight bit of hope, room to breathe, time to consider options. But I can see inside that cave, and it’s pitch black and filled with more creatures.
“No! Let me go!”
My flailing has the same effect it’s had all night. None. If anything, every time I even so much as think of defying one of these things, it sparks their anger. One of them stomps on my ankle as I’m dragged past. Again, the blow is worse than I feel it should be. One foot stomp shouldn’t have the capacity to cause so much damage.
But they aren’t human.
Inside the cave, the pilot creature pushes me to the center of the gathering crowd of creatures. The horde, he called them.
“Have at it, friends,” the leader invites.
With those words, they all leap at me at once.
As the fangs sink into my skin, all I can think is, “It’s been over ten years since my last tetanus shot.”
During the day I’m alone, crushingly alone. It’s crippling. In the darkness of the enclave I sit, terrified. I’m in a semi fetal position, with my knees bent closely to my body to avoid touching a creature, and my arms are chained above my head, causing them to feel numb.
My thoughts run wild as I wait and pray and starve. It’s miserable. But at night, at night they all rise forward from their prone positions, opening their eyes without a yawn or stretch. They can sense the sunset. It’s then that they begin their insidious whispering, darkly coercing, trying to force something I could never want. The creatures, who call themselves vampires, constantly try to force blood down my throat. I fight as well as I can, but the weakness from their many bites is near overpowering.
By day two, I’m begging for anything, just something to fill my stomach. By day three, I consider eating the dirt below me—if only my hands were free.
“Thirsty?”
The one I fear the most is the blond, sinister leader they call Akim. I fear I’ll never escape his voice. It plays on repeat in my head when I try to sleep, never letting me rest.
“No,” I grunt. Yes, my mind taunts.
He smiles, and it’s almost gentle, but I know better. My aching legs, numb arms, and rumbling stomach won’t let me forget his true nature.
“Come now, pet. Aren’t you craving something to—how do you say? Wet your whistle? Hmmm?”
“No.”
Every time he comes near me, I have the unrelenting urge to spit in his face or on his shoes. My fear of his reprisal and its effect on Liam keeps me from it, though.
His tall form looms over me, and his smile edges downward at the corners. He’s losing patience with my resistance. The other vamps gather in a semicircle behind him to view the show. They don’t attack me unless he gives them permission, which so far has been once a day since I got here. I guess they’re hoping I’ll push their master past his control and he will allow them to feast on me for as long as they want.
The bite marks all over me already have my hickey in a fever. Something inside whispers that it’s a good thing and the mark is what is preventing me from suffering a transformation worse than death. Still, the heat is unpleasant. My body alternates between sweating and chills. I know I must look a sight; I feel gross and weak. Every day without nourishment takes its toll, and that toll is weakening not only my body, but my resolve.
My stomach rumbles loudly, and I press closer to the rock beside me, cowering as Akim’s smile returns full force.
“There now, the hunger is natural. There’s no need to resist.”
Akim raises one arm, and I can see and fairly sense the lifeblood running through his blue tinged veins. One dark claw extends from his pointer finger, as he brandishes the sharp point toward me. I shake my head, backing up farther, though I know it’s useless. There’s no escape here.
His grin widens even more. Feral. He squats down and wraps his arm around my waist, pulling me up toward him. The strain on my chained arms sends sensation running up and down from shoulder to fingertip. I yelp at the pain, but he continues to pull, until I’m hanging suspended by his hold on my body and the chains’ cruel grip on my wrists.
He has gray eyes. I notice this as if from a distance. Everything is a bit hazy now, which I attribute to the lack of food and water. His arm is so long that he’s able to come full circle around me and cup his hand over my stomach. Through the rags of my top I can feel his claws extend, sliding along the material and cutting it away in the process, but not yet cutting through my skin.
“Take a taste,” he offers, pressing his forearm against my lips. “I know you’ve bitten one of my kind before, why not once more?”
He’s referring to my defensive attack against the pilot vampire from the day they kidnapped me. Thankfully, I didn’t draw blood that time, and I don’t want to risk it again, now that I know how important it is to the horde.
“You’re running out of time,” he whispers, removing his arm, but leaning in to press his lips against mine. “Your brand fades more every day. Soon it will exist no longer, and our blood will run down your throat, as your blood runs down ours. You’ll crave it.”
The talon on his other hand strokes down my throat.
“You’re a monster.”
“Thank you. Sadly, all I have to offer in gratitude for your complimentary,” he bites my lower lip with the word, sucking blood from the punctures, “mmmm . . . nature is more of the same.”
He lets go suddenly, causing me to swing back from the chains, like a bloody pendulum. Black dots dance at the edge of my vision. The forceful motion opens the wounds at my wrists, but there are so many aches in my body that the tearing of my skin seems a small thing now in comparison with the dire state of everything else.
Yet, I still squirm in the chains as they settle to stillness.
“Yes, dance for me, pet. Maybe I should call you puppet instead? Once you drink, that’s all you’ll be anyway—a mindless puppet trapped in her own body. I’ll enjoy being the first to command you.”
Something resembling a wolf’s howl, but too far away to make out for certain, resonates beyond the entrance to the cave. It’s joined by other yelps and animals’ cries in the night. I can’t see anything in the darkness, but I can see Akim glancing toward the cave entrance. Might salvation be on its way?
“It’s dinner time,” he says, looking once more toward me.
He slices his claw in a horizontal line along his inner forearm. He snaps his fingers and one of the horde steps forward with a glass. It’s smudged with dirt and cracked at the top, but I’m surprised they have glasses at all.
The deep red of his blood slides into the glass. It seems too thick to be natural, almost like sludge. He steps forward; his gray eyes alight with that same otherworldly fire of the pale men who followed me leading up to my abduction. These vampires have a wide range of appearances. Some, like the blond leader, are humanlike, handsome even. Then there are the pale minions that terrorized me at the bank and gas station originally. Finally, there are the gargoyle-esque creatures with wings and grayish leathery skin.
The glass is pressed against my lips, and God forgive me, my mouth waters at the prospect of something in my mouth. I’m so parched that I feel as if I’m dying. It takes all the strength and willpower I possess to turn my head away.
“You will drink. One more day and you won’t be able to control yourself.”
I fear he may be right. Every now and th
en, the vampires have managed to force some blood down my throat in their attempts. It’s never enough for them to be satisfied, but it’s enough for me to know that my body would betray me if it could.
He presses the glass against my lips once again, following the evading movements of my head. The crack in the glass catches on the flesh of my lower lip, burning. I’m helpless to reach out and stop him. My blood boils at the utter frustration of it all. I swing backward, risking the pain of the chains and the rip of the crack against my lip to avoid the vampire’s blood. I’m crying now from all of the pain and despair.
Another howl echoes through the night, closer now.
Akim growls at the sound.
“Release her,” he shouts.
Two gargoyle types use their claws as keys to undo the chains. I drop to the ground, but before I can cower, they pull me up. My legs are too cramped for me to stand. Instead, I hang from their grip of my upper arms, with my knees bent and my feet dragging the ground.
“Now you’re going to drink, or I’ll make you wish you had.”
Akim wraps his hand around my jaw, just as he has so many times before. Then he wrenches my mouth open with intense pressure to either side. With his teeth he tears a hole in the arm he sliced earlier, where the wound already closed.
He presses the wound against my open mouth. The blood is hot and metallic against my tongue, and for a second, only a second, I give in and consider swallowing. But then, a gentle reminder kicks from inside my stomach. Liam. He deserves so much more than what these demons have in store for us. I let the thick blood slide toward the back of my mouth, tears streaming down my cheeks.
A self-satisfied smirk grows on Akim’s face as he releases my jaw. I close my lips, lean back and do what I’ve been aching to do since I first saw this monster; I spit the blood in his face.
It drips from his long eyelashes, some of it falling into his eyes. The red streaks down his face, slowing as it reaches his jaw line. His blond hair gets a bit of it too.
With that same bloody arm, Akim pulls back and then slams his fist into my right temple. The force of the blow would have sent me flying, if not for the other vampires’ firm hold of me. Instead, pain radiates from the point of impact, as I shrink within the tight grasp of the vamp behind me. The hit sends me reeling; the room swerves before me.
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