“Especially ones with pale complexions and fangs.”
“Yeah, look what happened the last time I did that.” Monica offered me a smirk, allowing it to serve as her parting shot before leaving. I merely grinned in response, my gaze fixed on her departure until the door shut behind her. Drawing a deep breath inward in an attempt to settle a nagging apprehension that had taken root I convinced myself all would be well with her. I strolled toward my room, plucked a book from one of the tables along the way, and read to occupy my mind.
It did not take long, however, for a disquieting shiver to run up my spine. A chill followed the shiver. Reclining on my bed with Monica’s volume open on my lap, I paused, lifting my head and perking an eyebrow over the queer sensation. I glanced around the room in an attempt to discern its cause but nothing in my immediate surroundings had changed. Slowly setting aside the book, I swung my legs such that my feet touched the floor, and as soundlessly as possible, I stood. I crept toward the doorway and took hold of the sword propped against the wall.
Removing it from the sheath, which I threw onto my bed, I poised the sword in both hands. One foot moved in front of the other in quiet, deliberate steps, marking a cautious exit from my sanctuary and into the adjoining corridor. My ears attuned themselves to every sound in the house, my eyes scanning for what might be lurking. At the same time, something seemed to be hindering my abilities, clouding my vampire senses and seer talents. I drew a deep breath inward and exhaled it slowly, realizing I was about to face an unknown force handicapped.
I reached the end of the hallway. Pausing, I studied what I could of the living room from my vantage point, part of it obstructed from view by the wall. I motioned to take a step forward, but stopped and spun around when I heard a noise behind me. This proved to be my undoing. A figure advanced before I could react and a sword plunged into my unprotected back, provoking a scream of pain. My eyes lowered and I beheld, in horror, the tip of a blade protruding from my stomach. I yelled, as much from shock as from pain.
The voice which spoke made it all abundantly clear. “Hello, darling Flynn.” The words caressed my ear in her familiar tone of voice, the simple greeting agony enough to rival the physical pain. “Is this where you’ve been hiding from me?”
My eyes closed. I struggled to maintain my composure. “Hello, Sabrina,” I said, my voice shaky. The katana dropped from my hand beyond my own volition. “Fancy meeting you here.”
“Stranger coincidences have happened. Of course, we would be assuming our meeting is a coincidence, wouldn’t we?” She twisted the blade inside me. My vision swam and another scream lodged in my throat. “Wayward son, it’s time to bring you home.”
I laughed despite the torment, forcing my eyes to open. “Sabrina, you might as well drive that blade through my chest. I shall not be going anywhere with you.”
She smirked. I did not even have to see it to know, I could hear it distinctly in the way she spoke. “Oh, you’ll be coming with us, seer, unless you would like your watcher’s death to be your final vision before being sent to hell.”
Using the sword, she swung me around to face the living room. Sabrina raised a foot to my back and pushed me from the blade, causing me to topple onto the floor. I coughed a few times and instinctively clutched my violated stomach. “You lie,” I spat as I motioned to stand.
Sabrina’s foot settled on my shoulder and forced me back down. Bending forward, she gathered a fistful of my hair and tilted my head so I had no choice but to look up. “See, Flynn? I am a woman of my word.”
I gazed upward and beheld it with my own eyes. Timothy held Monica in his clutches with Paul standing directly beside him. Both of them smirked in a satisfied manner when my face registered a reaction to seeing Monica. She could barely stand. The reason for this became clearly manifest when I saw the bite marks on her neck still weeping blood, her scarf completely removed. Her cheeks pale, I could tell she had already been drained of as much blood as they could without killing her. “Monica!” I called out.
“Don’t worry about me, Peter,” Monica murmured, fighting to keep her eyes open. “Just stop her. I’ll be . . . fine . . . ”
“Now, isn’t that noble?” Sabrina asked. Her breath hit the side of my face as she spoke. “I find it sickening, personally this martyr complex the humans seem to have. They want to think themselves heroes. But you’re not like them . . . Are you, Flynn?”
I shut my eyes and coughed again, my blood slowly pooling beneath me on the floor. I could feel it, Sabrina’s tendrils attempting to wrap around my mind once more, entrancing it with her siren call. Gritting my teeth, I fought against her. “I am no more like you than I am the mortals I defend. There is, however, one apt comparison I can make. Monica is selfless and vigilant. You, on the other hand, are a vile, contemptible bitch.”
“The mortals you defend. Listen to that.” She laughed, her grip on my hair tightening. “An emasculated vampire, this is what you’ve become. The Flynn I knew would have sooner met the sun than to act the way you have.”
“Then kill me and put me out of my misery.”
“No, no, no.” Sabrina kissed the side of my neck, her fangs scratching and provoking a shiver I attempted to mask. She nipped at my ear as she whispered. “We’re going to talk first and my assassin is going to return to me. It is this festering humanity inside you I want dead. Not the vampire.”
I laughed. “I am not nearly as weak-minded as I was before.”
“Then why don’t we begin with a little incentive?” She looked up at Timothy. “How much more do you think we can bleed from her, Timothy? Does she have another pint left in her before she withers and dies?”
Timothy grinned, revealing his elongated fangs. “Oh, I think I could get at least another mouthful or two from her, Mistress.”
Sabrina leaned close to me again, releasing my hair. “Refuse me and the girl will die and you will be forced to watch. Or . . . even better . . . ” She chuckled and looked toward Timothy once more. “My dear Timothy, how would you like to turn your first child? I don’t think it would take long for me to break through her defenses and force her to beg you for it.”
“No!” I shouted, attempting to force myself to my feet again. Sabrina’s grip shifted to the back of my neck and proved to be too strong, however. The loss of blood had left me weakened. “If you dare try it . . . ”
“You’ll do what?”
I continued struggling, but was forced to give up when my efforts yielded no results. Having nothing to retort, I remained silent.
“Do we turn her, or do you surrender?”
I lifted my eyes to regard Monica again. She forced her eyes open, gazing back at me. I read the fear in her expression, but she shook her head anyway and whispered, “Don’t, Peter . . . ”
I could not allow it to happen, though. In an instant, I relived the experience of watching Lydia die by my hand. I saw the countless mortals I sent to their graves with impunity. I stared at the one standing before me, and every fiber of my being screamed against the outrage of her being forced to become a vampire. “Leave her alone,” I said, my eyes lowering to the floor. “I shall come with you. Promise me, though, that neither of you shall harm her. This includes an attempt to turn her.”
“Oh, you have my word, darling Flynn,” Sabrina said as her voice became saturated with seduction once more, “But I won’t have to do a thing to harm her when all is said and done. Do you know why?”
I forced my eyes shut and swallowed hard. “Do I have a choice?”
Sabrina touched the side of my face. “Because, my killer, by the time I’m through with you, you will be the one doing it. And I will take great pleasure in watching it happen.”
Chapter Thirty-One
Thrown into a dark room, I could still sense the eye of every member of the coven settle on me when I landed on my knees. My naked gaze remained fixed on the floor, my sunglasses having been removed upon entering the building. I twisted my hands a few times to test the str
ength of my ties arms at my sides, wrists bound in front of me but whatever incantation Sabrina placed on them made the effort useless. I had been brought to a place of trial and there would be no escape.
After indulging a few deep breaths, I looked upward, searching for Monica. Just as soon as I caught sight of her, though, Sabrina stepped between us and took hold of my chin. She turned my head to ensure we stared at each other. “The witch is alive. That is all you need to know. Now, it’s time for us to have a chat, darling Flynn.”
I tried to look away, but her gaze held me hostage. “A chat with you, Sabrina, is hardly ever a pleasant thing. What do you intend to do to me?” I mustered a smirk. “Tell me what a bad boy I have been?”
She laughed, but I scarcely had the chance to react before she slapped me across the cheek. The impact threw my head to the side. I groaned and Sabrina roughly turned my face to force my eyes toward hers again. “Oh, you’ve been a very bad boy, Flynn, and you know it. You’ve become enchanted with the mortals and abandoned your mistress and lover. Such acts of treason should call for your death.”
“You are not my lover, Sabrina. And, I dare say, I rebuke your leadership over me. I had a love once, a pure one you tricked me into murdering. I know no other love than hers.”
Sabrina bared fangs. I could sense the first wave of assaults upon my will as the growl she emitted threw suggestions in my brain. I blocked them as best as possible, but they still stuck long enough to begin a loop of hypnotism. ‘Obey,’ they told me. ‘Give in to your base desires. Lust. Rage. Hate. See in these fangs a mirror image of your true nature and fight against it no longer.’ I sneered, but made the mistake of making eye contact with Sabrina again. “You shall need to do better than that amateur spell casting,” I muttered. “My will is stronger than it was before.”
“Oh, you think it is, because you’re infected with this sense of self-righteousness.” She grinned, still flashing her pointed teeth at me. I found myself needing to look away, lest mine descend as well. “You killed the upstarts. My enemies, by the way, and I thank you for that service, dark son.” She leaned in closer. Her lips hovered above my ear, her voice descending to a sultry whisper. “My assassin is ensuring my power struggle is a success by slaughtering the competition.”
“An act of judgment, nothing more.” I shut my eyes. “I am not your assassin any longer, loathsome bitch.”
Sabrina threw me onto my back. Standing, she gazed down at me as I opened my eyes again. “That doesn’t change what you’ve done and how well you’ve done it. Over the course of your two week pity party, the casualties you’ve amassed have only helped me rein in the rogues. The people gathered around you are now aligned under my name, with countless others throughout the city. They fear me and they fear you. Why fight the power when it is there for the taking?”
“Because I no longer seek your power.”
“I don’t believe it. I believe somewhere deep down inside, you enjoy the power.” Sabrina paced around me. At once, the room began to spin and my eyes had trouble tracking her. “Come now, Flynn, be honest with the one who has been your mistress for five years. The one who gave you the immortal gift. Every time you’ve plunged the blade into a vampire, either as an assassin or a seer, you have reveled in it. The sensation of killing. The satisfaction of sating your lust for blood. Surely you realize the monster you truly are.”
I shut my eyes once more. My hold upon the mental ledge I dangled from became precarious. I could feel my grip weakening, my footing starting to slip. I fought harder against it. “You would have me believe I am yet a monster only for your gain.”
“For our gain. I have seen it in your eyes, Flynn. I saw it when you killed Matthew and tore through the other elders. You bathed in their ashes and delighted in it.”
“As I shall delight in your ashes when they descend to my feet.”
“Now, you don’t really want that, do you?” I heard the sound of footsteps and a blade sliding from its sheath. I refused to look, though, lest Sabrina meet my gaze again. “Search your heart of hearts. You have the knowledge and the ability to slay me and yet, you have butchered the tail instead of severing the head. Two weeks, Flynn, and you have not darkened my doorstep. Why is that?”
I winced. She had exposed my weakness too quickly. “Because I wished my work to be complete when you met your end.”
Sabrina laughed, her voice growing closer. I heard something whip through the air and could only guess this to being the blade she now held. The sound of its strokes sounded overly familiar, though. “Do not con a con artist, dark killer. I’ve heard many reports. Those you spared for information told me you still called me your mistress. In a convincing manner, no less.”
“I was acting.”
“You were always a terrible liar, Flynn.”
The swinging sounds stopped abruptly. There was a pause before a piercing pain racked me from head to toe, finding its genesis in my stomach. I cried out in pain and opened my eyes to see my katana protruding from me, pinning me to the ground.
Sabrina smiled as she continued holding onto it. “My, this sword does suit you, doesn’t it? A clean cut. Very strong and steady.” She pulled the blade from inside me and flicked my blood from its edge. I moaned. “I imagine this injury is making you hungry. Care for a bite?”
“Fuck you.” I winced.
Sabrina raised the sword and brought it crashing down again. This time, it buried itself into my shoulder and forced wails of agony from my mouth once more. She laughed with relish. “Oh, now we’ve descended into hurling obscenities? My, that is the old Flynn.” Ripping the blade from me, she tsked. I shut my eyes against the excruciating pain assailing me. “Come now, vampire. Feed and be healed. You’re losing blood. I can tell from your pallor you haven’t been taking care of yourself.”
“I require nothing,” I spat. “Save but for you to burn in hell.”
Once more, Sabrina brought the sword plunging down toward me. Its tip buried into the ground beside me, with the blade cutting into my neck, but in a superficial manner. Still, I felt the pain and knew the wound to be weeping blood. No, she did not mean to kill me. She meant to bleed me until I became too thirsty to hold back. I had to stop her. “Is this the best you have?” I asked, forcing out a laugh.
Sabrina leaped on top of me. Again, I made the grievous error of looking her in the eyes. She held a knife, with it hovering above my cheek. “Silly, silly vampire,” she said. Pressing the edge into my skin, she drug it downward slowly, tracing a line which sent sparks of electricity up my spine. I groaned, uncertain of whether I should be writhing in pain or entranced with pleasure. She laughed as she watched my reaction. “You should know my bag of tricks runs deep by now, Flynn.” The blade lifted. She leaned close. Her breath hit the side of my face. “Into pits yet unexplored.”
Her lips touched my neck. She licked the blood that trickled from the wound. I shivered, and then yelled again when she plunged her fangs into my throat and imbibed a deep, lusty drink. It became more than I could stand. My fangs descended and I hissed.
She paused her drinking, but did not lift her head. “Fight it no longer, Flynn. Those daggers emerged to feed. You remember that, right?” When she licked the wounds closed, I felt the points of her teeth rake a path gently up toward my jaw. A tantalizing sensation, it jarred my already precarious footing. She was right. I only became hungrier with my fangs exposed and the thirst mounted the longer they remained down. “The base things,” she continued. “The pleasures. You remember how good it feels when blood coats your tongue, warm and with the pulse of your prey still resonating in your ears? My Flynn remembers how these things brought him pleasure.”
Attempting to retract my fangs proved useless. “The pleasure is passing. The evil remains.” My words as much to myself as to Sabrina, I spoke them with as much conviction as I could. “Your evil remains, and I cannot suffer it.”
“Oh, but you can, Flynn. You can.” Sabrina’s trek up the side of my face paused
when she thrust her body against mine and taunted my lips with hers. When she began to kiss me, her fangs cut into my bottom lip and brought the taste of my blood onto my tongue. I kept trying to fight, to pull away, but she persisted and I found myself enjoying the crimson dripping into my mouth far too much. That illicit thing I had to avoid as much as possible. The single greatest weakness a vampire could harbor. I wanted more. God, I knew I should not, but I did anyway.
“No, Peter! Fight it!”
I heard Monica’s words as though they drifted down a tunnel and opened my eyes. Sabrina pulled away, though, only to laugh. “How precious,” she said as she straddled me. I watched her bite into her own wrist. “She uses your mortal name as if that is what you really are. But you and I know better than that, don’t we? You are no mortal. You are a killer. You are no seer. You are the devil himself in vampire form. Flynn the assassin, ready to stand with his mistress at last.”
Her wrist hovered over my face, dripping blood into my mouth. I could bear it no longer. I imbibed the droplets in a lusty manner, bathing my tongue in her crimson offering. Sabrina pressed her wrist against my mouth and I drew hard from it, becoming immersed in desire, wishing to become one with it again.
I opened my eyes. A wicked laugh rose from my throat. Sabrina pulled her wrist away and mirrored my grin. “Sweet crimson,” I said. “Sweet Sabrina. Save your devil from this undoing.”
“There is only one thing which can save you from her wiles.”
“Speak it,” I said, my head swimming. I locked eyes with Sabrina and this time, did not fight against her powers of suggestion as they crashed into me again. My eyes wavered only once, to see the pendant dangling from her neck. Then, they returned to meet her gaze. “It shall be done as you say.”
Sabrina touched my chin and turned my head so I could regard Monica. Monica looked back at me, fear latent in her eyes. “Do you see that vile thing, Flynn?” Sabrina asked.
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