by Karen Payton
Akin to fire sizzling along the veins, the process was painful in the extreme, although, Connor projected calm. His resting hands lay linked over his stomach as if he were truly asleep. If I had delayed a moment more, there may not have been a human colony; I could have dispatched them all in less than a minute.
He closed his eyes and suffered; rehydration had its own rhythm. When his brain was refreshed he would feel a euphoric rush of energy, at which point, he would remove the boulder with little more effort required than pushing a child on a swing.
When the rush finally occurred, and his eyes snapped open, his body clock told him he had slept almost two hours, longer than his normal refreshment time. He rolled up to a sitting position, stretched to mobilize his lubricated tissue, and then, pressing his fingertips into his jugular arteries, he massaged along the length of his neck until swallowing no longer hurt.
His mind drifted briefly to Vampire Jack, or “Jack the Ripper” as humans knew him the first time around. When he delayed grave sleep beyond reason, the blood rush had dissolved his sanity.
The hungry synapses of Jack’s brain had been drenched in a sudden surge of blood which compressed his spinal cord. Messages were barely detectable above the brainstem, with the frontal lobe and cerebral cortex no longer registering a personality. Jack had descended into vampire dementia, where the craving for blood became so overwhelming, he was compelled to eat the indigestible flesh. At least he escaped The Butcher’s fate. Even Julian considered Jack’s suffering too great to perpetuate. I guess he was the first ‘feral’.
A grim smile settled on Connor’s face as he sprang to his feet. If I had lost it, there is a banquet waiting just the other side of that boulder. “Much too close for comfort,” Connor murmured. He had never had a closer call than the one today.
<><><>
While the air in the tunnels still eddied in Connor’s wake, Rebekah digested his words. Douglas’ determination was not a shocking revelation. She had sensed it too. She briskly rubbed the gooosbumps from her arms. Douglas mustn’t find out Connor is asleep. And for how long, I wonder? “Dammit,” Rebekah muttered, wanting to concentrate on his return. I’m getting the hang of the vampire sleep thing, but knowing how long would be good, especially now. She had learned from Connor, that to be gentle, he took revival sleep. So, grave sleep must turn them into killers.
“Okay, stay away from Douglas, that’s all I have to do.” How hard can that be? She automatically checked her watch, although it had little meaning. I’m going crazy. She went in search of Uncle Harry to deliver Connor’s warning.
Rebekah sighed her relief when she found Uncle Harry alone in the meeting cavern. When he caught sight of her, he rushed forward and gathered her hands in his.
His sorrow was clear on his face, and his guilt descended into an outpouring that chilled her.
“He’s not so bad. I’m sure he’s sorry, too. He hates himself,” Harry muttered, almost as though trying to convince himself.
A bitter weight settled in her chest. The ‘absentminded professor’ Uncle Harry was like an autistic child; reading people was beyond him. Rebekah sighed. I can’t do this today.
“Uncle Harry, listen,” she cut in gently.
Harry’s mouth hung open in mid-sentence for far longer than was comfortable.
A warning shot of an impending migraine darted across Rebekah’s vision, teasing her with dancing lights and hinting at the slice of pain she would suffer later.
“No one must go to the storage caverns. Not until Connor returns,” she said quietly.
“Storage caverns?” Harry formed the words as if he had never heard them before.
“Douglas’ cave in particular. Connor is resting, and no one must go there,” she said, seeking eye contact and his understanding, and not certain that she achieved it. Nevertheless, she turned to go and make her getaway. So close.
She had not seen Douglas arrive, but she felt the cold discomfort of his eyes dragging across her skin. Without looking around, she crossed the meeting cavern and tried to slip away.
“Rebekah, please stay.” Douglas oozed regret.
Her stomach rolled with greasy sickness at his approach, but she stopped, not sure what else to do.
“I am sorry. The wedding. God, please forgive me.” His eyes skittered over her face. “I don’t know what came over me. Really, I’m sorry.”
Rebekah glanced anxiously at Harry, and his stooped posture and pleading look motivated her to stay. “Let’s just move on. It’s over, so let’s forget it.” She pushed the words through a dry throat and couldn’t suppress the cringe when Douglas placed his hand on her arm.
When she shrank away, anger flashed in his eyes before he could arrange a thankful smile on his face. “So, no hard feelings?”
“Of course not,” she said quietly. She slipped smoothly from his grasp, resisting the urge to snatch, and turned to go.
Leaving the meeting cavern behind did not bring the relief she expected. Rebekah’s deep breathing kept time with her measured footfalls. It was not as effective as a paper bag, but it stopped the panic from running away inside her. Surging forward around the last bend in the tunnel, she entered her den, crossed quickly to the bed and sat down heavily. Toppling back, she stared at the roughly-tiled domed ceiling.
This was her own space. Rolling onto her side, her fingers closed on the scrap of Connor’s shirt she kept hidden under her pillow, and she lay still, controlling the thunder that rocked her chest. I’m scared. Douglas is dangerous, but surely he’s not stupid. Dread made her shrivel inside. Reaching down to the floor beside the bed, she grabbed hold of the smooth rock she kept close by and hugged it to her chest. “Connor, come back soon. Come back soon. Come back soon...” The mantra continued on in her head as she pressed her face into the citrus-scented fabric.
How long she lay there she had no idea, but it seemed an eternity. Then she heard footsteps and her breathing stopped. Connor, she thought, but she knew it was too soon.
Douglas sauntered into view, his broad shoulders filling the doorway as he leaned there. “Just talking to Harry.” He grinned. “The vampire cave came in handy, then?”
Rebekah thought of Connor sleeping, and determination stiffened her resolve; she was not going to let Douglas win. I’ll die first.
Swinging her legs over the side of the bed, she rolled smoothly to her feet and balanced her weight, clenching a white-knuckle grip on the stone she held behind her back.
“Get out,” she spat.
Douglas pushed himself upright and moved forward, his eyes alight with malice and lust. “You can still change your mind, have a real man instead of a block of ice,” he sneered, his voice hoarse with excitement. “If you’re giving it away, then I think I’m entitled to a free sample.” He sauntered closer.
Backing away, Rebekah drew him in and prepared to fight as, for the first time in her life, the acidic bile of hatred swilled in her gullet. Sweat wicked into her cotton shirt, and the damp fabric snatched at her skin as she shifted her shoulders, squaring up to Douglas. C’mon, you bastard.
“You know you owe me.” Douglas was no longer grinning. “You made me look like a fool.”
His expression slipped away to slack-mouthed arousal, and Rebekah’s stomach filled with scuttling spiders again. Memories of his clammy hands, their spiteful grip, and the stink of his sweat stained her thoughts. No way are you touching me today.
Without warning, she lunged forward, grunting as she swung her arm up in the flowing arc of a discus throw. Following through with all her bodyweight, she cracked the stone against the side of his head. The sickening thud juddered through her bones, and satisfaction spiked inside her as blood oozed from the graze on his temple.
Off balance, Douglas threw up an arm. Too late to ward off the blow, but his hand shot out and closed tightly around her wrist.
“You bitch!”
Rebekah screamed as his twisting grip shot pain up her arm and the stone fell onto the floor.
Anger galvanized him and he yanked her forward. She collided with the solid wall of his wide chest, and his arms pinned her tight. Rebekah’s hackles rose. Disgust swallowed her breath as his wet mouth sucked at her face. Frantically shaking her head, avoiding his pressing tongue, she leaned away, struggling blindly. The terrifying heat of desperation swamped her as she tore an arm free of his smothering hold and slapped his face, hard.
His grip slackened for a moment, and she ripped away from his scrabbling grasp.
His bellowing rage rang around her den as Rebekah turned to face him again.
She fastened her eyes onto his face and backed away, pressing up against the wall. Her heartbeat pounded inside her head and scrambled her reflexes, and suddenly her arms felt like cast iron weights which would not move.
Douglas swayed in front of her, and the exit disappeared behind his terrifying bulk as he advanced with outstretched arms, hissing angrily between his teeth.
“You owe me, bitch,” he said.
Choking on the fear inside her chest, with a strangled cry, she doubled over and drove forward. Ducking left as Douglas dived right, hope flared inside when her shoulder grazed past him, but his hand darted out and gripped her upper arm. He swung her in an arc, throwing her backwards into the wall. The impact knocked the breath from her lungs and cracked her head on the uneven tiles.
She sprawled there for a moment with her head shrieking, and Douglas pounced. His weight crushed her and an explosion of pain shot across her vision as the hard tiles bit into her shoulder blades. He grabbed at her hip, digging clawed fingers into her flesh. Groping her body, he tugged viciously at her shirt.
She gagged in desperation, crying out in pain when his clammy hand closed over her breast, squeezing hard. His mouth soaked her neck. He tightened his fist into her hair, yanked her chin up, and shoved his knee hard into her groin.
He pressed his face into hers as he said, “You like it rough. I saw the bruises.”
Rebekah’s mouth filled with bile and his panting breath fanned a cold breeze over the spittle soaking her neck. “No, no, no.” Her voice cracked as panic gripped her throat. The roots of her hair screamed when she tried to pull her face away from his sweat-oozing pores and dripping saliva. She was drowning in him. Her scrabbling brain gave up on thinking and she thrashed wildly. Just keep moving, keep moving. But, he’s too close. The heels of her hands kept slipping and she couldn’t push him away.
His body smothered hers in moist heat and her lungs burned with stale air as terror locked it inside.
Douglas shoved an arm roughly around her waist, and the ground disappeared as he hoisted her into his chest. He grunted, stumbling forward. Her legs spun out of control, kicking out uselessly as she landed on her back on the bed. He pushed his leg in between her knees and pulled roughly at her pants. His weight cantered over her skin as he shifted onto knees and elbows and tore at her clothes. His body was heavy on top of her as he panted, his knuckles bruising her thighs when he fumbled with his fly.
“You ready for this.” His breathing rasped in his throat.
Oh God. N0!
As her brain flooded with black clouds and she choked on terror, he disappeared.
A sudden breeze covered her in goosebumps as she gulped in fresh air and her lungs burned. A moment of shocked stillness was crushed by the desire to curl up and die. She pulled her shirt front together, drew up her knees, and rolled over onto her side, groaning.
‘Oh God, oh God, oh God’ rotated around inside her reeling mind. She curled into a ball and started rocking. The perpetual motion kept her thoughts from settling, and kept her from feeling the stinging abrasions left on her body.
<><><>
Douglas found himself sucked into a time warp tunnel which whisked him through the air. The cold wind biting into his chest like a bed of nails took his open-mouthed scream and shoved it back down into his throat.
He came to an abrupt halt, and was spun around on his heel so quickly that the cavern walls kept turning. When the spinning sensation stopped, he was pinned against the roughly-hewn, stone-encrusted wall inside the sealed vampire cave.
Douglas stared into a chalk-white mask of fury, and choked on his own terror.
“Okay, you’ve got my attention, Douglas, you prick,” Connor snarled. He could smell the musk of arousal still oozing from Douglas’ pores, and, for the first time in his memory, he wanted to murder. Not kill. Not feed. I want to murder the bastard.
He sneered into Douglas’ face from two inches away, clamped his hand onto the man’s stiffened groin, and twisted. “I could snap this off and ram it down your throat,” he growled. “You hurt her, you runt, and now, I’m going to kill you.” Picturing Douglas’ rapidly shrinking manhood mottling to purple plum under his vise-like grip gave Connor grim satisfaction. Easy, just a little, enough to make him pee sitting down for a month. I’ll see how I feel about snapping it off then.
The image of Douglas’ body crushing Rebekah, his neck red with lust and the musky stench of his depravity thick in the air, sizzled through Connor’s brain. He stood on a cliff edge where blind fury demanded he step over into the abyss. But, I can kill Douglas later in cold blood, and enjoy it more.
Bracketing Douglas’ jaw, Connor’s hand applied inexorable pressure, tilting his head over to one side and exposing the artery pumping in his neck. “Better start praying,” he muttered, as a purr rumbled through his throat.
Connor grinned as the sting of uric acid hit his throat long before Douglas knew he was about to wet himself. He closed his eyes and savored the moment as he bit down hard into Douglas’ neck, drew out one mouthful of his terrified blood, and spat it out onto the floor in an explosion of disgust.
As always, Rebekah mattered more. Her breathless lungs, and her heart pushing adrenalin so hard that fibrillation seemed only a beat away, left him terrified he would lose her. Returning to her now was a compulsion he could not resist.
Connor moved to the door, releasing Douglas so fast that he staggered backward and crunched into the wall again. His outburst of expletives died on his lips as his pants soaked up the urine rushing down his leg.
Wrinkling his nose, Connor said, “You disgusting pig.”
Flattening his palm over the rough pitted surface of the gray boulder still sealing the exit, Connor looked back over his shoulder. “You may never see daylight again, Douglas.” He clenched his fingers and scored deep grooves into the rock face, enjoying Douglas’ terror as an unnerving clatter of graveled debris hit the ground.
Suddenly, Douglas found himself alone inside the cave with the boulder firmly back in place.
<><><>
Connor paused at the doorway of Rebekah’s cave. She still lay on the bed, curled up now as though hanging onto the throbbing of her tortured flesh. He could smell the bruising and the muscle in his jaw ticked as he fought to remain calm. She kept rocking until the chill of Connor’s velvet-textured skin brushed against her back and molded to her thighs. “I’ve got you, honey,” he whispered. His arm slipped around her waist and he hitched her closer into his body. “I’ve got you.”
A sob caught in her swollen throat as she released the knot of tension inside and relaxed against him.
“I’m sorry. He won’t touch you again, I swear it.” Connor shifted up onto one elbow and turned her face to his.
Her eyes remained tightly closed. “I was so scared the nightmare would swallow me up.”
Connor stroked her hair back from her face. “Rebekah, look at me.”
Raising her damp lashes, the sunshine of his face released her, and then she gasped, reaching out and brushing her finger tips over Connor’s lips. He passed his tongue over them, and when blood coated it, he spat it out. Connor doubted he would enjoy the taste of Douglas’ blood, even if his own life depended upon it. He realized how it must look to her, and he shook his head. “No, he’s still alive, unless I change my mind.”
He scrubbed at his mouth with his shirt cuff until it was c
lean, and his eyes traveled down her body this time, hissing in a breath when he noticed the fist clutching her torn shirt front together. He rolled her onto her back and gently released her grip. Angry gouge marks framed her breast, and her face was red where Douglas’ stubble had scraped over her skin.
“I’ve just changed my mind,” he said darkly.
Rebekah gripped his arm urgently. “Connor, please, don’t go, just hold me.”
Connor sighed, his icy breath a soothing balm as he bent to kiss the marks on her breast, and then moved on to her grazed chin, cheeks, and swollen eyelids. “I’m not going anywhere.” He sank down onto his back, hugged her into his chest, and pulled her thigh over his stomach. Holding her close, he rocked her until she drifted off to sleep.
Connor wrestled his demons into submission and concentrated on finding a solution which would make Rebekah safe, truly safe.
During the hours she slept, he turned every conceived scenario over in his mind. As he inspected each one for flaws, in too many cases, like fossilized insects in amber, he found a fly in the ointment. Or more specifically, a dough boy in the vampire cave, or a lizard on the council.
Serge won’t let things lie. I’ll push Harry into moving the eco-town to a new location. And, who knows, maybe Douglas will get lost in the woods along the way. Connor grinned and allowed his mouth to fill with venom. A little wish-fulfilment painted a scene in which Douglas’ soft flesh was a mottled purple mass, and a certain appendage resided inside his stomach. The purr of satisfaction that vibrated Connor’s ribcage gently massaged his heart, and, for a moment, he almost felt alive.
Rebekah’s breathing, deep and still catching, tore at him. It seemed the only thing he was good at was letting her down. He felt in control and fearless in everything, except her. If anything ever happens to her, I will gladly walk into the sunlight, burn, and die.