by Lily Harlem
He hesitated, then, “Lieutenant Patrick Sinclair.”
“You’re serving?”
“Aye, on leave at the moment.”
“And still in uniform?” Oscar muttered.
“Yeah, that’s odd,” Lloyd replied quietly. His shoulders tensed.
I bit on my bottom lip as a sense of unease grew.
“Do you mind,” Patrick said, “if I get a few more shots while there’s moonlight?”
“Go ahead. We don’t own Stonehenge.” George stepped to one side.
“Cheers, mate.” He began to click away, edging closer to me, Oscar and Lloyd.
After a minute a cloud slid over the moon. The wind picked up and the leaves on the trees created a ripple in the distance.
“So what are your names?” Patrick lowered his camera. His attention was on me again.
I moved from one foot to the other, my shoulders skimming both Oscar’s and Lloyd’s.
“I’m George.” George stepped closer to Patrick, glancing at the sky, then at the new person in our midst.
“Nice to meet you.” Patrick nodded at George, then turned to Rhys.
“This is Rhys,” George said, gesturing. “And Lloyd, Darius and Oscar.”
“Darius.” Patrick’s eyes flashed as he looked at me again, his gaze seeming to scan my body from head to toe and back up. “Unusual name.”
“I guess.”
Is he gay? Does he know who I am from my job?
“It’s a pleasure to make your acquaintance, Darius,” Patrick said, stepping forward with his hand outstretched.
I felt very singled out by him as he approached, his wide shoulders tense, his boots stomping on the ground, and his gaze locked on mine.
As he drew nearer, I held out my hand.
My fingers tingled. I struggled to contain sparks. His eyes were mesmerizing, so dark and penetrating, and his eyebrows were pulled low, shrouding them in shadows. I felt as though I could fall into him, or him fall into me. He was sucking me closer. My mind, my thoughts, they were tumbling forward. His face was all I could see. He was all that I wanted to be…
Our hands were so close now, preparing to shake. I trembled. My spine seemed to weaken, as if it had turned to dust. I let out a gasp knowing electricity was about to shoot through me and it would hurt.
It would hurt a lot.
“No!” Oscar crashed his arm down on Patrick’s, sending him reeling and his camera bouncing into the air then crashing back down on his chest.
“What the—?” Patrick clasped his arm and hunched over. He glared at Oscar. “Why’d you do that? It hurt.”
“It’s him!” Oscar stepped in front of me, one arm behind himself, holding my body close to his back. “It’s the demon.”
“Demon?” Patrick said. “What are you talking about?” He frowned and turned to George. “Why’d he call me a demon? I was only being friendly.”
I clutched Oscar’s shoulders, glad of the support, and locked my knees.
Lloyd set his arm about my waist to steady me, as if instinctively knowing Patrick’s closeness had done something weird to my body.
“Demon?” George clenched his fists and rounded his shoulders. He glanced at Oscar, then me.
“Yes,” I croaked. “I think it is. I think it’s him.”
A sudden roar of thunder peeled over the sky and a brilliant flash of lightning lit the stones for several glowing, white-hot seconds.
“You really think so?” Lloyd asked me.
I peered around Oscar’s bulk. “Yeah, I do.” The strange sensation of thoughts being suctioned from my mind had faded now Patrick had removed his attention from me and stepped back. I was no longer fearful of the surge of electric I’d known touching his hand would produce.
“Get him,” Rhys shouted, then moved so fast I could only see the blur of his outline.
“No! Stop!” George yelled, grabbing Rhys and hauling him backward. “It’s a staked crossbow.”
I gasped.
Patrick was standing tall now, and in his hand he held not a camera, but what looked like an old-fashioned wooden pistol with decorative metalwork. The top of the barrel was open, showing the bullets, and as George had said, it had a crossbow look to it.
“Aye, that’s right, stop,” Patrick sneered, his features changing from handsome to snarling. No longer stooped, he held the stance of a man preparing to fight. Not only that, the tilt of his chin showed he was expecting to win.
“You!” Lloyd said, fury in his tone. “You dare to come here.”
“If you’re asking if I dare to claim what’s mine, then aye, I do.” He armed the crossbow. The mechanism made a harsh clicking sound. “And you will not be able to stop me.”
“We will destroy you,” Oscar said. “Your time is up, demon. That piece of shit will not stop us.”
“I don’t think so.” Patrick moved the gun so it pointed in the direction of Rhys and George who were now closest to him. “And actually, I think it will. You vampires can crawl back from most things, but you can’t survive this.”
Nausea washed over me. The sight of the gun pointing at men I loved was sickening.
“In fact,” Patrick said, derision in his voice, “it’s the opposite. It’s your time, heathen vampires. Your time to burn in Hell for all eternity.”
“We drank from the cambion in accordance to the fable.” George placed his hands on his hips and puffed up his chest. “There will no Hell for us. Death, yes, but not Hell.”
Patrick frowned. “Fable?”
“Yes, Darius is the key to our salvation,” George went on. “As you well know from your encounters with Master Benedict.”
Patrick laughed, but it held no humor. “Ha, that old soul, what does he know?”
“He knows me,” I said, “and you know it.”
Patrick turned to me. “How would I know it?”
“My dreams. You’ve been tormenting me for years in my dreams. And Benedict has been there too, guiding me, protecting me. Letting me know that I can help these men whose only crime is to be a vampire.”
He raised his eyebrows. “You remember them? The dreams?”
“Of course. And thank goodness I do so I could secure these men’s souls. I suppose we should all thank you for creating me.”
“I created you for me!” he snarled, spittle collecting at the corners of his mouth. “Me! You’re mine. Your perfect, immortal body is mine.”
“You will not hurt him and you will not have him,” Lloyd shouted. “Do not underestimate our love for him, or the power of it.”
“Ha, your power is weak. I can break down your walls. Another moment at the riverside last night and I would have shown you that.” Patrick faced me but kept the crossbow aimed at Rhys. “They’re using you for their own ends. Can’t you see, son? Let me in and I’ll do justice to our underworld.”
“It’s not my underworld,” I said. “This is my world, this is where I live. My mother is here. She’s my family, not you.” It was strange to think this young soldier believed himself to be my father, but of course the poor boy had been possessed.
“Where you have lived, under the guardianship of the female I chose to bear and raise you,” Patrick said. “Because now it’s time to say goodbye to these bloodsuckers. They’re not your destiny. Greater things await us.”
I clenched my fists. My hands were on fire. My chest was tight and heat was raging through me. These men were my destiny. Our souls were already connected—at least it felt that way.
“Prepare for pain,” Patrick said to Rhys, taking a step forward and closing the gap between the gun and Rhys’s chest. “At least I’m led to believe a stake bullet with a silver tip fired to the heart of your sort is painful. I wouldn’t know.” He laughed, an evil sound that echoed around the age-old stones. “Pain is no concern of mine.”
Stake bullet, silver tip. Through the heart.
“No!” I gasped. I may have protected my vampires from burning in Hell for all of time, but they’d st
ill leave me if staked through the heart. And I couldn’t bear the thought of any of them not being at my side. A piece of me would go with them. And I couldn’t imagine a future without Rhys and his quick smile and sexy swagger. My eyes stung at the thought of anything happening to him.
“Fuck,” Lloyd muttered.
“I’m taking him down.” Oscar stepped forward.
But as he did so, forcing my hands to drop from his shoulders, sparks left the tips of my fingers. They glistened as they fell to the ground through the darkness.
“Darius.” Lloyd cupped my elbow. “There’s so many.”
“I know.” And there were. Rather than the usual dripping, the sparks were falling in a cascade and it was getting bigger, stronger, almost like a flame thrower.
For a moment I stared at this new power leaving me, wondering where it had come from. My intense orgasm? The love in my heart? But then I stared at the gun directed at one of the men I was in love with.
Wooden.
I stepped to the side, so I had a direct line to it. I aimed both of my hands at the crossbow and shot sparks through the air. They arced in one seamless, beautiful stream of fire, tearing blistering heat and pain from my arms.
I grimaced and held in a groan.
Lloyd slipped behind me and held me up. “I’ve got you.”
Oscar dodged out the way of the fiery air.
The flames were licking over the crossbow. Patrick was hanging on to it with both hands and grimacing. “You…you would do this to me, your creator?”
A sudden whizzing sound sliced through the air. A stake bullet with a silver tip.
“Shit!” Rhys ducked to the side, pushing George with him.
In my peripheral vision I saw they’d tumbled to the ground. But only for a second, then they were up and closing in on Patrick.
He shot again, a stake landing as fast as a bullet might into the soft earth. He then spun, toward me. The crossbow was on fire now. So were his hands. Flames were licking up his forearms, highlighting his tattoos, and catching in his t-shirt.
“I did this for us,” he yelled at me.
A huge crack behind me told me another stake had been released. It had hit one of the ancient stones.
“Fuck.” Lloyd tugged me to the right. “That was too close for comfort.”
Oscar went to the left. His fists clenched.
Patrick let out a wail. The scent of burning flesh filled the air. The crossbow was burning as bright as a star now, as were his arms. His pants too were on fire, flames eating at the camouflage material. He reminded me of Guy Fawkes atop a bonfire.
I cried out too. The strain of producing so much fire was draining every sap of energy I had. But I had to keep going.
“Get him!” Oscar lunged at the burning man.
Rhys and George were a split second behind him.
Patrick was knocked to the ground.
All three vampires were over him. They seemed to go into a frenzy, their bodies jerking, writhing, and bucking.
A bolt of lightning streaked from left to right over the sky, zig-zagging in time with a furious roar of thunder that rattled my teeth and vibrated through my feet. A squally gust of wind pressed against me and I staggered as it knocked my arc of fire off course.
“Enough,” Lloyd said against my ear. “Enough. You’ve destroyed the crossbow.”
“And him?”
“The others are doing that.”
I lowered my hands, slumping against Lloyd.
“I’ve got you.”
I gave up responsibility for remaining upright and allowed Lloyd to hold me as I watched the scene before me.
The demon’s legs were smoldering. George was over him as if drinking his blood, Rhys was stepping back, wiping his hand over his mouth. Oscar had Patrick’s arms pinned above his head—a head that was at a strange angle to his neck.
A huge spot of water landed on my cheek, then another and another. The sudden storm had brought rain with it.
Patrick’s legs jerked, then stilled, feet falling outward as though all tension, all life had gone from them.
George unfolded and stood. “You okay?” He clasped Rhys’s shoulder.
“Yeah, better now that bastard is dead.”
Dead.
I gulped as rain streaked down my cheeks. I’d just witnessed a murder. No, more than that. I’d helped murder someone.
I held my breath as I stared at Patrick’s burned body. It was still smoking, hissing as the raindrops landed on him. He was charred, his clothing melted onto his flesh. A sob grew in my chest. It grew so big it burst upward, a strangled gasp that hurt my throat.
“Darius.” Lloyd spun me around and pulled me close. “It’s okay.”
“It’s…it’s my fault.”
“No, you protected yourself and us.”
“But…” I broke from him and staggered forward, unable to stop staring at the young soldier’s body. “That’s not the demon, that’s an innocent man.” I pointed at George. “You promised me no one would get hurt, no one who wasn’t evil.”
“I told you not to promise that, George.” Oscar stood and placed his hands on his hips. He stared at the body. “Fuck.”
“Damn it.” George straightened his cap. “Rhys, you do it.” He pointed at Patrick.
“Do what?” Rhys glanced at George and then me.
“Yes, if it can be done,” I said. “Do it.”
Vampire.
“It can be.” Lloyd nodded. “If we don’t delay.”
“You want me to do it?” Rhys directed at George.
“It’s high time you performed your first turn.”
Rhys stared at the soldier. “You think I can?”
“We’ve got your back,” Oscar said. “And our man here doesn’t want blood on his hands. We have to respect that.”
“Yes,” I said, stepping forward and grasping Rhys’s hand. “Do it. This soldier, the real Patrick, was a victim of a demon’s evil plan. We have to atone for that.”
“And we will,” George said. “Rhys, hurry, this is a very short window. You need to drain him dry.”
Rhys pulled in a deep breath, then nodded. “Okay.”
He crouched down, set his mouth over the oddly angled neck of the corpse, then began to drink. As he did so a shiver went down his back and he kind of swayed in time with his feeding.
Lloyd was breathing heavily and watching with wide eyes as though the spectacle excited him. Oscar’s lips were parted, fangs still visible. George had his head tilted, looking pretty chilled, all things considered. He pulled out his pocket watch and checked the time, then slipped it away.
My heart was pounding. This seemed to be a very time sensitive situation—between death and being drained dry.
“What’s going to happen?” I asked Lloyd, a tremble in my voice.
“You’ll see.”
“Will he be okay?”
He hesitated, then, “Yeah, after a while.”
“What do you mean after a—” I halted as Rhys stood. He stared down at the lifeless body with his arms hanging at his sides and his fangs dripping blood.
“It hasn’t worked,” I said, frantic that I was going to have to live with the death of this poor soldier for the rest of my never-ending life. Panic washed through me. I couldn’t stand the guilt.
“Hang on, be patient.” Lloyd grasped my hand. “Watch.”
Each second was like an hour, but eventually Patrick’s feet twitched, then he pulled in a huge gasping breath.
Oscar, Rhys and George stepped closer to him, surrounding him.
I swallowed, and my eyes pricked with tentative hope. Had Rhys turned him?
Patrick’s torso bucked up, then back to the ground as though he’d been electrocuted. Then his head lifted and his neck seemed to slot back into place.
In an instant, a flash, he was on his feet, naked, his clothes ribbons of charred fabric and dust around his feet.
His skin was perfect. Unmarked. Not burned or scarred. H
is cock hung flaccid from a patch of dark pubic hair.
He opened his eyes and glared at me. They were huge and glinting with madness. He lunged forward.
Oscar grabbed his right arm, Rhys his left. They yanked him backward.
George and Lloyd put themselves between him and me.
“What’s going on?” I asked, fearful something had gone wrong.
“New vampires,” George said, “have an uncontrollable thirst.”
“Blood. Human blood!” Patrick shouted, his lips curling back to reveal sparkling white fangs as he stared at me. He battled with Oscar and Rhys, trying to break free, but they kept a tight hold on him.
“Shit,” I said, alarm gripping me. “How can this work? He’s so…wild.”
“It will,” George said. “He’ll calm down, and he’ll learn.”
“He’ll be able to control the thirst,” Lloyd said. “Eventually.”
“Ah, good.” As long as he could eventually, time wasn’t an issue.
“Give me, I need it,” Patrick yelled. “Now!”
“No.” George stood before him. “Not until you can be trusted.”
Patrick’s mad eyes seemed to stare through George. “Give me man.”
“No.” George set his hand on his shoulder.
He battled harder, twisting and turning. “There is human. I want.”
Oscar and Rhys were having to adjust their stances to keep him held firm and away from me. It was clear he was much stronger than a human now.
“It’s okay,” I said, stepping past Lloyd and toward Patrick.
“Careful,” Lloyd said. “It’s you he wants.”
“Yeah.” Rhys frowned. “And if he hurts you, I’ll stake his heart myself and feed it to ravens.”
“It’s okay.” I walked up to Patrick, not breaking eye contact and my shoulders set back.
He was staring straight at me. As if I was all that existed.
“Darius,” George said quietly. “Watch him. He’s unpredictable.”
“I’ve got this,” I said, tilting my chin and taking in Patrick’s wild but beautiful features.
Suddenly he stilled his battle with Oscar and Rhys. Though he was breathing hard and his fangs visible, I sensed him calming.
“Hey, Patrick,” I said to him, my voice soft and a gentle smile tugging my lips. “Welcome to my vampire harem.”