B007XKEWAE EBOK

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B007XKEWAE EBOK Page 14

by Lawson, Nicola


  "Do what you want with me but please don't hurt my child," she sobbed.

  Fulton looked over his shoulder at where the baby still slept snugly. "Do you want to watch me kill it?"

  "No! God, no!"

  "Don't they look angelic when they're asleep?" he commented circling the pram like a shark. "Of course even if it were a real angel it wouldn't be protected from me."

  There was a scrabbling behind him and then the mother charged him holding a silver crucifix on a chain in front of her.

  "Get away from there devil!" she screamed.

  Fulton stood his ground and had wrested the jewellery from her grasp before she could blink. He lifted her up by her wrist and took her feet from the floor as he regarded the piece.

  "I'm not a devil. I'm something worse."

  He crushed the necklace until it was nothing more than a misshapen lump of silver metal that he cast aside.

  He applied the same amount of pressure with his other hand. The bones in the woman's wrist ground together, cracked and shattered. She cried out in agony and he dropped her to the floor.

  She cradled her broken arm and looked up at him. "Why are you doing this?"

  "It's what I am," he replied simply. "This is my nature. I have no choice."

  "You always have a choice." The mother said.

  "Not when you are like me," Fulton retorted. "I have to kill you to feed. To live."

  "But you don't have to torture me." The woman shot back driven by her anger. "You can feed off me but you don't have to kill my baby as well. You get to make the choice of who you kill and how. Nature may have played a part in making you like this but you make choices that decide how you cope with the cards you have been dealt. You may be a monster but you don't have to be monstrous."

  "Shut up." He hadn't had much experience of this but he was certain victims weren't supposed to talk back like this.

  "No. You know I'm speaking the truth. You just don't want to accept it because you are afraid to look at what you have chosen to become. The path may be laid out before you but you must choose to walk down it. There are always other paths to be taken and you are scared to admit that you took yourself down this one."

  She looked at him resignedly. "You need to kill one of us to feed, you don't need us both. If you just take me you will have taken the first steps to forging a new path. If you kill my baby you will be choosing to walk the path of evil and you will have no-one but yourself to blame."

  Chapter Seventeen

  Francesca slapped the human man and sent him flying across the street. She saw Fulton slip by her on the trail of the bolting mother and baby. The man picked himself up and faced off against her again. He bled from his mouth.

  "You want some more?" Francesca said. "I must say I admire that. You have a pair and I like that in my men."

  "Screw you."

  "I bet you'd like to," she shot back. "But I'm only here to kill. Sorry."

  She sauntered up to him casually. She stared deeply into his eyes. With an effort he wrested some control back to himself and made as if to strike her. She raised her hand and slowly waved her first two fingers in front of his eyes. The man's head swayed from side to side following the rhythm she created.

  "Lower your hands."

  He let his arms drop to his sides.

  "Good. Now do not attempt to strike me again."

  She stepped closer. Guiding his head with her fingers she made him lean to the side and expose his neck to her. Sometimes she liked it to be easy. Leisurely she lowered her fangs and sliced through the skin to get at the precious fluid in his veins. He remained still throughout until the very end when the last of his life was taken from him, when he shuddered and collapsed.

  Francesca looked up and wiped congealing blood from her mouth and chin, the fluid of life surrendering to death as it cooled in the night air.

  Leaving the man where he was she set off after Fulton. She was curious as to how he would deal with this situation. He had killed in her presence before. But this was no ordinary kill. If he managed to go through with killing the mother and baby he would have proven his loyalty to her. If he was unable to go through with it then she would have to reconsider his position.

  Whatever the outcome she would make the best use of it. But she could only do that if she knew what the end result was. Francesca cloaked herself in the darkness. It would not provide any real cover from Fulton if he was looking out for her, but she expected his mind would be on other things.

  She crept up until she could see the scene playing out clearly. The mother was sprawled on the road cradling her left arm tenderly. She was saying something to Fulton that she couldn't hear. But looking at Fulton she could see the effect it was having on him. He seemed to be growing confused, his stance becoming somehow ambivalent. He was having doubts, second thoughts about what he was about to do.

  That gave Francesca pause. Was he simply playing with his food, adding a little mental torture to spice his meal up some? Or was this something else, was he genuinely having second thoughts about what he was doing? Francesca watched with growing interest as the scene played out.

  Fulton listened to what the woman said. She spoke only in an effort to save at least her baby and maybe even herself. She didn't speak to try and help him. But her words resonated with the tiny nub of himself that had remained intact since he was first bitten on that fateful night so many years before. Perhaps he should spare this one. But then sense kicked in. He could not return to Francesca without blood on his lips. Not that he had to return to Francesca, he could just vanish right now. But he wanted to return to her. But even if he had to kill the mother he could at least spare the child.

  The woman was struggling to her feet using her good arm for leverage.

  "I'm sorry."

  He turned her head to the side and savaged her neck. He stopped before causing too much damage.

  "I will save your baby."

  Then he finished her and drained her life away. Dropping the lifeless husk he turned to the sleeping infant. When he gazed down at it he remembered the dreams he had where he and Francesca fed off his own baby sisters. The urge to feed from this poor innocent was almost overwhelming. But he called on all his inner reserves to resist. He may be damned already but he had to draw a line somewhere to get his life back under control.

  If he crossed this line Fulton Hawke would be lost forever.

  This was what it all came down to in the end.

  Choices.

  Before being made a vampire Fulton had never believed in destiny. He figured that what a person made of themselves was up to them. Otherwise you punished criminals when they had no choice in their actions because they were controlled by destiny. Good people were good because that was the path they chose, with bad people it was likewise.

  Then it hit Fulton like an epiphany. It was no different for him now. His instincts and lifestyle may make it harder for him, he may walk a lot closer to the edge than he did before, but he still had to make the decisions that defined who he was.

  With a new sense of clarity Fulton scooped the baby into his arms. He could smell the blood within it so close to the surface calling out to him. It would be a difficult line to walk without stumbling over it. But now he had an idea of where to start. It may be a long and hard journey to find his true self, and there would be many obstacles on the way. Francesca and his desire to please her would be tugging him in various directions that could put him over the line. But nothing of worth was ever easy.

  But those were just words. He had to take action to change. And that was something most people never did. But he could start now. Here with this child.

  He shook off his vampire face and returned to looking human. He took the infant and left the street. He leapt over the tall wall separating the road from the houses. Choosing one with lights on in the windows he left the baby wrapped in blankets on the doorstep. He knocked loudly on the door and vanished back in the night. When he returned to Francesca he woul
d need to tell her some story about disposing of the body.

  If he could resist her charms.

  Francesca watched a young woman retrieve the child from her doorstep and take it into her house. She sensed a presence come up behind her. Knowing hands played over her body.

  "He killed the mother but took the infant to safety."

  "Should we kill it and the family?" Gabriella asked.

  Francesca embraced Gabriella and they shared a bloody kiss.

  "No. We will find Fulton and return to the nest. After I take Fulton up to our chambers find Xavier and send him to me," Francesca said.

  Gabriella narrowed her eyes but did not give voice to her complaint.

  Francesca knew she was putting her through a lot of hardship but how she dealt with this adversity was all important. So far she had shown unwavering loyalty to Francesca. The bond between the two of them would strengthen accordingly.

  "He's back there," Gabriella said.

  "Come then."

  They met up with Fulton close to where he had killed the woman. Her blood stained his teeth and chin. He offered some flimsy story about what he had done with the bodies and Francesca was careful not to question it. She would not give him any reason to think she had any doubts in him.

  He was very eager to return to the nest and Francesca obliged by taking them right back there.

  When they reached the nest Francesca took Fulton up the stairs to her private chambers and Gabriella peeled off to locate Xavier.

  "When do I get the grand tour?" Fulton asked while Francesca sorted out a few things for Gabriella.

  She had no idea where she had spent the last day, nor where she had obtained her change of clothes, but this time Francesca would make sure that she would be more comfortable. It pained her to keep Gabriella away but it would only be for a short time. Either Fulton would prove too much of a coward for her to trust his loyalty and would need to be disposed of, or else he would join the nest and only get to pleasure his Mistress when she desired it.

  "Aren't I enough for you?"

  "More than enough. But if I'm going to make this place my home I should check it out first."

  "Of course you should," Francesca answered placing a selection of underwear into an alligator-skin case.

  Already in there with it was a selection of other clothes and assorted blankets. Gabriella could still use the private bathing facilities in these chambers. Assuming she didn't want to sully herself by using the communal showers or baths used by the rest of the nest.

  "Let me just do this," She got up and opened the door to another room. This was one of the rooms Gabriella had decorated. Inside was a selection of the latest modern entertainment technology.

  "Why don't you see if there's anything on T.V?"

  Fulton sat in one of the seats and she closed the door to a crack. She had just finished closing the clasps on the case when Xavier came into the room, preceded by Gabriella.

  "You wanted to see me."

  Francesca put a finger to her lips to quite him and then beckoned him over to her.

  "I may require your assistance with a potential problem," she gave him a quick run through of the nights activities.

  "If you have any doubts concerning his loyalty you should have him removed."

  At Xavier's shoulder Gabriella gave a wry smile, no doubt recognising the similarity in his statement to her own views towards Xavier.

  "Remember your place." Xavier bristled and Gabriella placed her hand on his arm.

  "He was separated from his own kind for a long time, he simply requires a little education in how we do things here."

  Xavier and Gabriella exchanged a sidelong glance, it was only brief but Francesca caught it. Francesca looked at the two of them oddly before continuing. "Gabriella, I'm afraid you will have to sleep elsewhere again during the day. I have assembled you some essentials."

  Francesca passed her the case. This time it was Xavier who prevented Gabriella from causing a scene. She nodded once, curtly. Francesca moved towards her and Gabriella made as if to step away. But she remained in place while Francesca kissed her forehead.

  "I love you," she said playing with her bleached hair.

  Gabriella looked up at her with those saucer eyes. "I know."

  After another good-bye kiss Gabriella and Xavier exited leaving Francesca alone in her chambers. "Fulton," she called. "Do you still want that tour?"

  He came back out of Gabriella's room.

  "I do."

  "Then let me just get changed out of these dirty things and we'll get right to it."

  Chapter Eighteen

  Francesca was showing Fulton around all the main areas of the nest. There were areas where the vampires in the nest were allowed to give in to their urges but when Francesca was around they quieted down and restrained themselves.

  Francesca showed him a couple of areas where individuals or groups of vampires could sleep. After the first of these sections she simply indicated other rooms that were used for that purpose and they skimmed past them.

  Francesca took him to the rear of the main building where the doors to unused sections had been blocked off by sheets of welded steel. She took him out of the main building and across to another. A vampire guard paced back and forth on the top of the fire escape catwalk above them.

  "Now where are we going?"

  Francesca walked backwards holding his hands so that she could talk to him face to face.

  "My favourite part. Except for my bedroom," she added with a mischievous grin.

  She turned back forwards and spoke to the pair of guards at the doors to this new building.

  Fulton waited patiently while the guards unlocked the door. The guard on the left moved across and removed the bar which had been bracing the doors. The brace was set up against the wall at the side of the doors and the guards opened them and stepped out of the way. Francesca preceded him into the large darkened space. The smell of human filth gave him some idea of what to expect when they arrived.

  "We sometimes have to take measures to ensure we maintain our anonymity. That means we might not always get out to hunt."

  Francesca glanced back at him over her shoulder. "And so . . ."

  They arrived at her destination and Fulton looked around, he swallowed against a lump in his throat.

  The floor of the chamber was smooth for the most part. Human excrement had started to pile up again around the edge of the chamber. There were stains and marks on the concrete floor leading to an uncovered drain in the middle of the room. The hose they used to periodically clean the room, and probably the prisoners, was wrapped around the pipe at the base of the tap next to where Francesca and Fulton entered.

  The prisoners that created the filth which needed were chained up around the perimeter. Scrawny, ill looking things for the most part they didn't look particularly appetising to him. There was no reaction from any of the prisoners. They just sat there, chained naked up to the walls staring blankly or muttering quietly to themselves.

  Francesca noticed the look on his face, hopefully she mistook all of his disgust at the state of the prisoners down to the thought of having to eat them rather than the pity which played no small part.

  "Yes, I will have to have words and get us some fresh stock in. These ones are starting to look more than a little tired."

  He had been on another two hunts, once with both Gabriella and Francesca and then just him and Francesca, and had killed and eaten two more humans and was immensely ambivalent about the whole ordeal.

  It felt good to hunt and kill. It satisfied some part of him like nothing else could. But the part of him that took pleasure from it went to war with the part of him that abhorred such behaviour. So far no side had gained an advantage over the other and Fulton felt like he was flying on auto-pilot.

  While he was divided within himself about that part of his life with the nest, there was a part of this existence that he wholly enjoyed. He still felt a little guilty afterwards, but that
was him thinking he shouldn't enjoy it and trying to punish himself for it, not him actually disliking the experience. That part was his life with Francesca. He had been drawn to her when he was still human and the only thing that had kept them apart after his being turned was the wandering. When he saw her again on the first night he had felt the same attraction as before only that time it was stronger, more real.

  It was an animal magnetism that called out to him. They were kindred spirits and would be more so if he would only let himself fully loose what was inside him. He wanted that more than anything, and he had let parts of it bubble up to the surface already. When he was with her he allowed himself to imagine a life free of the guilt. He and she together for all time.

  Where Gabriella spent the days was a secret known only to herself and Xavier. It was only the second time she had kept anything secret from Francesca. The first being the time she had sneaked out and seen her with another couple. Was this how it started? Would she continue to have to keep things from her? Would they grow apart after so long together? Gabriella hoped that wouldn't happen.

  Gabriella wouldn't say that she had made her den homely, not in the least. But it was better than when she had had to spend her first night here. She had strung a hammock from the ceiling so she no longer had to sleep in the filth. She had proper blankets and clean clothes of her own for the mornings. But even if she had been able to redecorate and turn her hideaway into a palatial dwelling fit for an empress it would still seem like squalor if she was forced to reside there without Francesca.

  With a sigh she removed her dressing-gown and folded it into a small parcel which she placed on top of the case Francesca had prepared for her. She hopped up onto the swinging hammock and pulled the blankets up under her chin.

  She had tried being angry at Francesca for pushing her away but she found it difficult to maintain her ire. Instead she was overcome by waves of melancholy that threatened to turn her into some sort of emotional wreck.

 

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