The Queen of Disks (Villainess Book 5)

by Alana Melos

  Flabbergasted by the reaction, I watched her, then turned to him. His face remained neutral, but when he turned his eyes to me, they glowed with cool anger, the blue of his certainty fading into dull red of anger. “You stole her from me.” He said it deadpan, with no inflection. He could have been saying ‘the sky is blue’. When he took a step forward, menace poured from him. I didn’t need to be telepathic to sense that.

  “Whoa, whoa here,” I said, holding a hand up to him. “I didn’t do anything.”

  He towered in front of me, anger radiating from him. “You stole them all from me,” he said, and now a touch of that heat crawled into his voice.

  “All I did was get them set up in Prime,” I replied. “There wasn’t an easy way back ‘til now. If they want to come back, they can. Once we get this shit figured out.” I matched his stare, keeping my mask of nothingness on. I wasn’t going to let him rattle me. With a thought, I could take him down.

  Though he didn’t look contemplative, Nazferatu nodded once, his dark eyes fading to their normal dull red. “We will see,” he told me. “You delivered the message. Why are you staying?”

  “I need the witch to lift her spell for a minute so I can get back to my world,” I replied, letting the words flow over one another in my haste to change the subject. “That’s it and then I’m out of your hair.” And your reach, I thought. The attraction between us tugged at me, though it was a lot easier to shove aside without his blood in my system and while he was being an asshole. I liked strong, tough guys as much as the next girl, but sometimes it was just too fucking much.

  The vampire chuckled. “That will not happen.”

  “You’re going to make it happen,” I said. “You owe me one. A big one.” I gestured with my hand vaguely in the direction I thought Germany was. “If it wasn’t for me, your people would be being killed or turned into weird cyber zombies. If it wasn’t for me, Richter wouldn’t be dead.”

  “You were looking out for your own interests,” he said. “Do not play this game with me.”

  “It doesn’t change the fact that you benefited from it as well,” I shot back, my words touched with heat. “You fucking owe me.”

  “I owe you some fucking,” he said with a half a grin.

  The idea of screwing the vamp tempted me for a moment. A long one. A really, really long one. It had been an intense experience before, but I shook my head. “No,” I said, making myself clear. “Not until you agree to help me.” I wasn’t above using sex as a weapon to get what I wanted.

  Nazferatu scoffed, stepping into my personal space. “I can smell your desire,” he said.

  “That smelling thing is just gross,” I replied. “How in the fuck can you stand it in this cess pool with it?”

  “It smells like magic,” he said, leaning in. “Dark magic, suffering and want….” Being this close, his cold hit me, kissing my body and mixing with my heat. He stopped just shy of touching me. In order to look at him, I had to crane my neck up at an uncomfortable position, but I wasn’t backing down.

  “It smells disgusting,” I said, putting my hands on his chest. “And it doesn’t matter if I want you. I want to go home more.”

  His lips curled into a cruel smile. “That is beyond your power.” Reaching up, he tangled his fingers in my hair, only the tips of his talons touching my neck.

  It looked like he forgot who beat him last time I was here. I shoved him back with my teke, causing him to fly into the opposite wall. The proportions stretched as he flew, and it looked as though he sailed through the air for miles, only to hit the wood twenty or so feet from me. As he hit the wall, he disappeared into darkness, making it look like he vanished in a puff of dark curling smoke. A second later, he was behind me, like I knew he would be. One hand encircled my throat while the other grabbed my waist and pulled me into him.

  That was when I staked him telekinetically.

  The vampire’s body stiffened, then fell away from me, hitting the floor in a terrific crash. I turned and smirked down at the helpless vampire. His eyes looked extra wide to me. Maybe he had that millisecond to realize what I’d done and that was the only change he could affect before the deed had been done. Maybe that was the only thing he could move while staked.

  Instead of standing there pondering, I knelt to the ground and straddled him. His erection continued to strain against his trousers, long and hard and thick, but he gave no reaction, no utterance or breath or movement at all to indicate what he was thinking. I stretched over him, keeping some distance between the rest of our bodies, and shifted his head so he could look at me directly.

  “You didn’t think I knew that, did you?” I purred. “At any time, I could kill you. With. A. Thought.”

  His eyes didn’t move or blink. I had his undivided attention, and the various reds which made up anger and lust strove for dominance. He enjoyed strong women, though he wasn’t pleased I knew his biggest weakness, save for the sun. I stroked his bone white cheek with the backs of my fingers and licked my lips.

  “Do you remember when we hunted? That guy under the street lamp,” I said, my voice soft and hushed, reverent as I reviewed the memory. “He could take a lot of punishment, but the shock and blood loss killed him.” I reached into my jacket and brought out one of the knives I’d stolen in Origin. I caught the dim light with the silver blade as I turned it this way and that.

  “How much more fun could I have with you? Helpless and trapped… and undying,” I said. “Can’t switch back to being a human--you’d die immediately. No one can pull the stake out because it’s force… not really there. Just a thought of mine made real.” I scraped the back side of the blade over his cheek, then turned it, letting the point rest at the corner of his mouth. “If I kept feeding you blood, would you heal the layers of skin and muscle I peel from you?” I asked, shaking with desire at the thought. “How long could you be my toy? How long could I play with you?”

  Blood always got my engine going, and I rubbed against him, feeling his length underneath me as I traced the line of his jaw to the other side and touched the burned side of him. I peeled up a small piece of the skin to get a better look at the grey, rotting flesh just underneath.

  “I don’t even care about that,” I said. “Maybe cutting it away will allow it to heal. Maybe not… wouldn’t you like to try and find out?” I smiled at him, my bloodlust growing. I couldn’t help but to continue to rub against him as I moved the knife down to his neck, drawing a line of red as the razor sharp edge parted the skin in an easy motion. It closed over, healing, but I felt I’d made my point. Now for the main thrust.

  “You see, Nazferatu,” I murmured. “You and your Prime counterpart think you’re playing with me. That I’m your toy, a mere diversion for a few months, a few years… however long I’ll last. I know that. But you are so, so wrong.”

  I leaned in close, knowing he felt my hot breath on his icy cheek as I spoke. At the same time, I poised the knife over his chest and drove the point in, inching it through the cloth and into his flesh. “I beat you before without our powers,” I whispered. “And I trounced you now with them. You’re my toy, not the other way around.”

  When the knife had reached the hilt, I turned it around, twisting the blade. He moved not at all under me, which robbed me of some satisfaction, but his thoughts writhed with pain, anger, and lust. I thought I sensed the faintest bit of chagrin, but it vanished like smoke under my mental fingers. I leaned back to watch the blood well around the wound and stain his dark clothing darker.

  As I withdrew the blade, the gleaming metal appeared inch by luxurious inch, stained with the red of his blood. There wasn’t much of it. He healed, after all, and I’m sure he’d been fed well.

  “I’m going to remove the stake now,” I said. “If you move to attack me, keep in mind that thought moves faster than you ever could. I’ll decapitate you where you lay and treat with the witch on my own.”

  The imaginary stake disappeared as I let the energy holding it in focus
go. Some tension went out of him, and his hands reached up for me, but slowly. If it had been anyone else but Nazferatu, I would have said he moved timidly. When he grasped my shoulders, I waited for the sudden attack, but it didn’t come. Instead, he squeezed my arms and his lips curled up into a half a smile.

  “I knew you were like me,” he said, his voice full of lust. He arched up, rubbing himself against me, and I moaned. “That you hunger for this.”

  “Sadomasochist,” I said as I rode him. Our bodies moved in motion with each other, but I still hadn’t gotten the answer I wanted. “Are you going to help or do I kill you now?”

  His hands tightened, and he moved with speed, toppling me over while keeping himself between my legs. Just as I was about to pop his head like a ripe melon, his grip eased and he thrust against me hard, the fabric between us growing warm with the friction.

  “What a vampire you would make,” he groaned. “A perfect match. We would rule the night.”

  “Not going to happen,” I breathed as I stabbed the knife into the floor so I had both my hands free. I slipped them under his jacket and slid it down his arms until he allowed me to remove it. “Answer my question. Are you or not?”

  He bent to kiss my neck, his jagged teeth grazing the tender skin. I groaned and knew we were going to fuck. “Yes,” he breathed.

  That was what I wanted to hear. He bit me on top of my old vampire bit scars, not quite piercing the skin as he ground his considerable length against me. I shifted my hips up so he hit all the right spots. Our bodies met in time to each other, over and over again until I was left panting with want.

  Though I lay there entranced with beastial desire and pleasure, the second Nazferatu shifted and grabbed my wrist, I pushed him off of me, throwing him to the side with my teke. He let go, his dark red eyes glittering dangerously. Just like a naughty kitten, he tested my limits. I straddled him anew, my lips curled into a snarl. I reached for the knife I’d dropped as I spread his arms behind his head, flattening the palms face up. With a savage strike, I drove the knife into one of his hands, pinning it to the floor. Unsheathing the second knife, I did the same to his other hand, leaving him there on the floor, ostensibly “helpless”. If he really wanted to, he would rip his hands free. Pain meant nothing to him; it was just another form of stimulation. His thoughts blazed with desire, mixed with the sweet song of agony.

  All the while, he ground into me, hard and ready. I didn’t have another weapon on me, so I took my time in unbuttoning in his shirt to expose his somewhat marred yet still powerful looking chest. As I moved the cloth aside, reveling in every sensation which flowed through me, I took the time to admire the scars in his white flesh. The host, Erick, must have been through combat before he joined with the vampire as he had numerous scars. Some were from knives, others looked like gunshots, and some were unidentifiable. I traced each one with my fingertips, savoring the feel of his cool flesh underneath me.

  Once I reached his stomach, I drew a line horizontally across his perfect abs. The flesh parted easily under my teke, and I peeled the skin apart to look inside. I’d never done this sort of thing to a vampire before. His reaction was immediate and intense; a sharp intake of breath as his cock strained against the clothing restricting him.

  “Just like me,” I whispered, my eyes half lidded as my fingers played around the edges of the open wound. “My dark lover.”

  “Take me,” he urged, his eyes bright. “Taste me.” The vampire didn’t enjoy playing bottom, but the experience was new and unique enough he wanted to see where it went.

  I peeled the small layer of fat away, and felt his raw muscle. It was red like one would expect, but so cold to the touch. It could have been a piece of meat, a steak waiting to be cooked. My nails pierced it, ripping him open further and further while he groaned underneath me, a mess of want and bloodlust. More controlled than his Prime counterpart, he schooled himself to patience, making his desire known with his body.

  Looking at the raw, red meat, the urge to consume him possessed me. I wanted to dig and bring that flesh to my mouth. The want to eat him whole, take everything of his and make him mine continued to rise as I pulled more fibers free, looking to expose his intestines. I swooned in place, feeling that want turn into a need, a hot hunger which was never fully expressed, and thus, never fully satisfied. I brought my fingers to my mouth and smelled the cold blood, the scent teasing at me. It wasn’t right though. It was off… something was wrong.

  I pulled back from him, my body throbbing with want but my mind in disarray, chaos romping merry havoc through it. I saw red for a moment, then shut my eyes tight as I stood, trying to banish these thoughts. I’d drank vampire blood before. It helped to enhance my powers and natural healing ability, but that was all. I wasn’t a cannibal. That sick urge had never been present in me until now, and in something akin to horror, I tried to set my mind aright. I only wanted sex and pain, not to feast. I only wanted to dull the hunger for sensation which always plagued me.

  The last time I had really tried was with the other Nosferatu. We’d made out… and I knew we were going to have a glorious and bloody time, but something had snapped. I’d reached out for him with my ‘pathy, wanting to… to… eat him up. To take everything, like I had tried with Richter. Pain had stopped me, and then I’d blacked out. There was no pain this time, just lust and an open body, an open mind ripe for plucking.

  I heard his flesh rip as Nazferatu pulled himself free. He slid his bloody hands around me, unsnapping my trousers. I didn’t object as pulsing lust ran through me still, mixing with my confusing thoughts. He undressed me with a delicate touch, his hands roaming my body as I struggled not to look at him, not to eat him.

  When I was mostly naked, my shirt unbuttoned and hanging open while my trousers had been removed, I turned to look at him once more. I did what I hadn’t done in a while and reached out to him, wanting to feel what he felt, wanting his lust to feed mine, wanting a distraction from this other lust… wanting a connection. Flashes of Rory and Adira ran through my mind, and how they used sex to express their connection with each other, and with me. This was the wrong partner for it, but the right time to try something new lest I lose control.

  I wrapped my arms around him and lifted myself up to wrap my legs around him. He didn’t seem surprised by the motion, but was when I kissed him. The cold mouth tasted faintly like blood, and his tongue licked mine, trying to take control of the kiss. I didn’t close my eyes, though he did his, briefly. When I broke the kiss, I strained again to reach him, to feel something through the tenuous connection we had. His cool hands cupped my bottom and raised me higher, then lowered me to tease me along his cock. The talons pierced me gently as he impaled me upon his length. In that moment, his emotions flared along my mental senses, growing stronger. I fanned it with my mind so as to mingle our emotions, to become something more than two persons fucking. All the while, our eyes locked as we stared into one another.

  Some would say we looked into each other’s souls, but I had none and he had two. It didn’t seem fair… yet his red hot desire kept me striving for more, staring at him as he fucked me. It was shaded with blue of grudging admiration, and a slight green of possessiveness, but they were hard and cold. His coolness tempered my heat as I reached to feel him, trying to turn this urge to consume into something else, something far more than simple hunger.

  What was a connection? What was it that made people cling to each other? What was that need or want or desire that caused caring? Whatever it was, I couldn’t make it happen. The best I managed to do with that red lust was connect it to mine, to share our lust between us for our tryst, making him wild. His thrusts surged as he slammed into me harder. The spark between us flared into life. For a single moment, I thought I almost understood what it was that drove people into each other’s arms.

  My telepathy broke free of my control, a wild horse which burst onto the empty plain of my mind. Our lusts didn’t just mingle, they joined. His strength made me
stronger, deepening our connection. I felt his want of me, his sour pride at being bested, and his possessiveness. He felt my confusion of people, lust of him, and my hunger… the hunger resonated between us. He snarled. In the next heartbeat, he sank his fangs into my neck. Thoughts whirled in his head of making me submit, making me his, making me into a vampire.

  I should have known he was not cowed. The vampire had waited for an opportunity to exploit. I pushed with my teke, trying to separate us. As I did, he widened his bite and bit down harder. If I pushed him away, he’d take a great chunk out of my neck and I’d likely bleed to death.

  Stop, I told him. I don’t have a soul--you’ll just kill me!

  He ignored the thought, pushing it away as he fed noisily from me. Nazferatu’s claws dug deep into me as he lowered me to a chair, still fucking me silly, his thrusts hard and furious as he fed. Blood was a turn on for both of us. It always had been, and always would be. Even if he didn’t feel any tenderness in our connection, I did, somewhat. I didn’t want to kill him, not even this dimension’s version of him. But he had to stop.

  Racing along the thread which connected us, it was simple to gather those threads which made him him, and jerk them to a stop. He froze by my wish as I sorted the threads out, cataloging and changing them. I turned his lust for me softer, the raw redness of it fading towards the soft pinks I’d seen in couples until it was a dark pink, not quite lust and not quite caring but a combination of the two. At the same time, I introduced a small white thread, adding it to the dark pink winding it around the thread until it permeated it: protectiveness, and the desire not to see me hurting. It was small, but it’d be enough. The cat’s eye green of possessiveness and the yellow green of jealousy I faded away, sending it deeper into his psyche so that it would arise when appropriate, but not interfere with my day to day operations. Once I finished that, I rearranged the threads into a more pleasing pattern, making his mind more ordered for me so it would be easier to change things in the future.