Lies in Blood

by A. M. Hudson

  She searched my eyes for the human emotions that would quench her fears, and for the sake of her virgin little body, I showed her a gentle smile. The truth of it was, I liked Emily, as far as humans went. And I’d never stayed on in a town after mating with one. Emily would be my first, just as I would be her first ever love.

  I smiled to myself as I stepped closer and lifted her skirt, revealing the small patch of dark hair between her legs. I would not only be her first, I would also be her last.

  She tightened all over, tucking her hands behind her back as my finger went high up into the wet cleft under her skirt. But the tension made me want her more, and the smell of her—the smell of sweet, human things: human scents and cleansers and sweat—made my mouth water, hungry for the kill, but more, strangely, for the lust.

  “I’m going to enjoy you.” I leaned close to whisper against the side of her face. “And if you satisfy my needs, I will leave you alive.”

  Her eyes flew open. “Alive?”

  I drew away slightly, extracting my hand. “Lay down on the bed.”

  She looked at the bed, then back at me, watching my jeans come undone.

  “I said lay down.”

  With knees wobbling, she walked over and sat for a second, her mind focusing on the coolness where the air brushed her nakedness. But she obeyed, laying down, drawing her skirt down as she shuffled back.

  “Spread your legs.” I stood at the edge of the bed, waiting for the bitch to open her knees. When she refused to show herself to me, I grabbed her ankles and forced them apart, pushing her hands away as they came down to cover her pubic hair. “Do not hide from me, Emily. If you want to be mine, you need to do as I say.”

  She laid her hands down by her sides one, then the other, and looked at the roof while I studied her where no boy ever had. Her hair wasn’t as dark as I first thought, but more of a sandy-blond colour, like the roots of her hair. It was longer than I was used to—untrimmed but not overgrown. She’d clearly never been shown how to groom herself, and I found it unnervingly arousing.

  “Take off your sweater,” I ordered.

  “Can’t we—” She bit her lip. “Shouldn’t we maybe kiss first?”

  I laughed, lowering my body on top of hers, keeping my jeans, my shirt and even my socks and shoes on. Last thing I wanted was for any inch of my flesh to touch this pathetic little human. I almost hated her more than my victims. “I have no desire to kiss you, Emily.”

  “Then—” Her hand landed on my chest; I stopped just before entering her. “Why are we doing this—if you don’t even like me?”

  “I like you.” I leaned back a little and smiled down at her, but my charm wasn’t working. She’d changed her mind. “Em?”

  She looked away, a line of tears falling over the side her face and down her temples.

  I climbed off her and lowered her skirt. “Emily?”

  “Just go.” She rolled onto her side and curled up into a ball facing away from me, and for the first time in my entire existence, that small twinge of sympathy I’d felt for her when the student body shunned her repeated itself. I’d only felt pity like that once in my life for a human, and it had no place in me now.

  But no one would know, I told myself. My biannual leave had began months ago. I wasn’t in the castle with my uncle and High Councillors breathing down my neck, telling me to harden up. I didn’t have to torture anyone or watch children die to feed the twisted souls of some of the vampires in my community. Emily cared for me, that much I knew, and as I sat and watched her cry, a small part of me cared enough to at least comfort her.

  My hand shook a little as I reached out and placed it on her waist. “I’m not used to caring, Emily. I’ve never been that kind of guy.”

  She rolled slightly and looked up at me. “I can’t be the kind of girl you’re used to then, David. I’m just. . .” She sat up and wiped her face on her hands again, but this time it didn’t disgust me. “I just need to be loved.”

  “I know.” I nodded and sat beside her, scooping her in for a hug. She smelled different this time—the fruity scent of her shampoo familiar to me now, and also kind of comforting. “I am really sorry.” And I was. She’d made me mad. No one ever even dared to make me mad, and this girl and her ability to do that so easily confounded me. I squeezed her slightly too tight, but she took that as a wordless show of affection and rested her head sleepily on my shoulder.

  The night air made icicles of her small hands the longer we sat, so I pulled her a little closer and rolled us both back on her bed, reaching behind me to grab the blanket.

  She thanked me in her sweet whisper and snuggled in, her face on my chest, her breath sneaking under the buttons of my shirt, while her ear rested close enough to hear that I didn’t really have a heart at all.

  “I am sorry, Emily,” I whispered, expecting her to then fall asleep.

  But she sat up a little. “So, do you get it now, then?”

  “Get what?” I tucked a hand behind my head, trying to read her mind.

  “That’s all I want from you.”

  “An apology?”

  “No. Compassion. That same compassion you showed me at Summer’s party.”

  I readjusted my head, showing myself to be a little timid, almost. And she liked that. It made her warm again.

  She slid her fingertip between my buttons.

  “What are you doing, Em?” I cupped her hand.

  “I changed my mind.” She grinned. “I want you to stay tonight.”

  I rolled up on my elbow, considering her carefully. “You sure you’re ready for this?”

  She nodded. “Just be gentle with me.”

  “I will. I promise.” And I decided to keep that promise. She would never disobey me again, not once she was bound to me, so it really didn’t matter how I got my way with her, did it? I could play the loving boyfriend for one night. I’d just call on my experiences with Morgaine or Pepper. Emily would never know any different.

  I rolled up a little to meet her mouth, savouring the taste of her pineapple lipgloss. And she loved it, thinking no more of the fight we had, only of the facts, going over and over again in her head, that it was me who’d be inside her—me kissing her lips, my tongue in her mouth, me who would always be remembered as her first.

  “Ow.” She squeaked, tugging away with a hand on her lip. “Your teeth are sharp.”

  I grinned, showing them. “So I’ve been told.”

  “Wow, those fangs are really long.” She touched one.

  “Yes.” I pulled her hand away. “And they can cut you, so be careful.”

  “Didn’t know you cared,” she said, cocking her head, but what she really meant was it’s nice that he cares. That was all she wanted—just one person in her whole world to really care about her. Which did, in a small way, make me pity her. She could’ve had any guy in the school, but she chose to chase after me. Why, Emily? Why? I thought, smiling to myself as I unclasped her bra and lifted her sweater away, watching her small, plump breasts fall to their natural position.

  She knelt up and shimmied her skirt down, the gentle breeze sweeping between her shapely thighs and brushing her creamy scent along my nose. And she was lovely naked; her milky skin like porcelain under the faded summer tan.

  I rose, cupping her arms to force her gently onto her back, and the way her blond hair spilled past her shoulders, a lock against her face, the rest reaching out like fingers of sunshine over her red sheets made my dick harder than a brick wall. Maybe I could enjoy the company of a human without killing it.

  “What are you staring at?” she asked self-consciously.

  “You’re actually really quite beautiful, Emily.”

  Her limbs went tight, a slow breath staying in her lungs too long. She didn’t want to move in case her body angled the wrong way and made her look fat, forcing my mind to change. But it wouldn’t. She was almost as perfect a human as I’d ever seen. And I knew, as I rolled off my shirt and threw my jeans and shoes aside with
it, that I would enjoy this. Certainly a little more than she would.

  Our naked bodies met, cool to warmth, and she gasped, wrapping her legs over my hips.

  “Why are you so cold?” She rubbed her hands up and down ribs.

  “I’m just naturally cold.”

  “I know,” she said. “But I didn’t think you’d be cold all over like this.”

  “Just pretend I’m Edward.” I smirked, flicking a sideways gaze to her bookshelf.

  She giggled so loudly then that I stopped to listen for her mother. “I think I’d rather have you.”

  “I hope you mean that, Emily Pierce, because I’m going to be the boy who stole your virginity.”

  She smiled back at me. “Not stole it, David. Was given it.”

  That was sweet, I thought. It was also slightly exhilarating to know that she wanted me to have it. I almost, for a second, felt guilty about what that would mean for her. But the guilt passed the moment I slipped myself inside her and felt her soft legs squeeze my hips. She was velvety warm, and so tight I had to hold my breath each time I moved inside her, the head of my penis throbbing so insanely I almost blew my load in the first two strokes.

  She let out a quivering, panicky cry on the third one, though, her brown eyes going wide as the small opening between her legs stretched apart. She was dry, too dry for the ferocity of my enthusiasm, but I just needed to get this done with. Her mother was moments away from heading up to bed, and she would, as always, check on her daughter first.

  “David?” Emily whimpered.

  “What?”

  “Is it . . . is it supposed to sting like that?”

  “Yes,” I lied. “Just shut up and lay still.”

  She moved her hips sideways, trying to reposition, so I grabbed her waist and pinned her flat. “I said lay still.”

  “I’m trying, but it really hurts.” And a flood of waterworks started from the wrong end of her.

  “Your supposed to get wet between your legs, Emily. Not your eyes.”

  “I’m sorry.” She wiped her face. “I’m trying to be good for you, but—ah!” She gasped through her teeth.

  I groaned, slipping out of her. “Emily, do you want to do this, or not?”

  She nodded, sniffling.

  “Right. Then shut up.” I cupped her hips and flipped her onto her stomach like a ragdoll, forcing her legs apart and drawing her hips up a little. Her toes curled with the force of my drive inside the tight opening, her mind rationalising that it wouldn't be this bad next time.

  I could smell the blood—smell it mix with fear and agony, and the vampire in me surfaced, turning any compassion I may have felt for this human into blind hunger.

  I unwound her tight fingers from their grip on the sheet and forced both hands behind her back, pinning them there. She didn’t protest or fight me; shock registered in the beat of heart, but she cast it aside, coming to terms with this side of me that she always knew was there—accepting it because she wanted to accept me—wanted this to mean that, tomorrow, we would be something more.

  “I’m going to finish inside you now, Emily,” I said, leaning heavily on top her bare spine to whisper in her ear. “And when you wake up, you won’t remember any of this.”

  She tried to turn at the waist to look at me, opening her fat mouth to speak. I cupped my hand over it, forcing the side of her face firmly into the mattress, feeling her tongue and teeth against my pinkie. This species was so weak I barely even used an ounce of strength, but the stupid girl didn’t really fight me anyway. A bigger part of her wanted this, even if she felt degraded.

  Pathetic. That’s all she was to me now. And when she woke up tomorrow, not only would she have forgotten everything, but she would also never disobey me again, nor would she ever question or go against me.

  I orgasmed to the hum of her soft whimpers, the sound driving my inner vampire to near explosion, and when I’d filled her up and released her wrists, I noticed the red rings from the force I used.

  “That’s gonna leave a mark,” I said, smiling to myself.

  She lifted her face from the bed and drew a long, jagged breath, her hair wet and tangled around her face. “Get off me.”

  I slipped out of her and stood back, grabbing my jeans and shirt off the floor. She wanted me to sweep in and comfort her—tell her the violence and the pain was normal—maybe just a fetish of mine. She wanted me to maybe even look at her, but she was bleeding, and it was for more than just the loss of her virginity. Clearly I’d been a little too rough on her fragile human body, and it satisfied me deeply to know the bitch wouldn't walk properly for a week. I didn’t need to kill her to leave here feeling like I’d won, but the blood would surely force my hand if I stayed much longer. “Next time,” I muttered coldly, slipping my jeans on. “Think twice before you walk out on me.”

  She sniffled again, nodding into the arm she used to wipe her face.

  “See you at school tomorrow.” I grabbed my shoes and jacket, and jumped out her window without even looking back.

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  Table of Contents

  Chapter One

  Chapter Two

  Chapter Three

  Chapter Four

  Chapter Five

  Chapter Six

  Chapter Seven

  Chapter Eight

  Chapter Nine

  Chapter Ten

  Chapter Eleven

  Chapter Twelve

  Chapter Thirteen

  Chapter Fourteen