by C. P. Foster
“Ah, Sarah,” he murmured. His thumb rubbed one hard nipple, making her gasp. Raphael kissed her more deeply, taking her in his arms to hold her close against his body. He was no longer so terribly cold.
“Please?” she whispered, not able to say what she wanted but certain he understood.
“Not yet, my love. I do not wish to take advantage of you. When we feed, it gives great pleasure, and it might make you do something you would not otherwise. Wait, so we may be sure you truly want to give yourself to me.”
He didn’t bring the matter up again for weeks. It became their habit to begin each date with a feeding, and she wanted him so badly Sarah could hardly sleep. Didn’t he want her, too? Hurt and self-doubt tainted her feelings for him as he made no move to take what she offered.
When she told him this, he hugged her and whispered, “Oh, my Sarah, I did not mean to make you doubt yourself. If you are ready for me, let us make love.”
That night he took her to his bed. She had never been so happy in her entire life.
The change in her was impossible to ignore. Sarah had the glow of a girl in love. Her parents, who rarely paid her any attention, took notice. They suggested she invite Raphael for dinner, since it looked like the two of them were “getting serious.” Sarah hesitated. She made excuses and delayed until they started to get suspicious. Finally, she asked him if he would come, and he agreed.
There was no hiding the truth. Maybe they would see how wonderful he was, how well he treated her, and it wouldn’t matter if he was a vampire. But her stepmother took one look at him and dragged Sarah’s half sister out of the room.
“A vampire?” her father shouted. “You stupid girl. He’s just using you. Look at him. Why would he want to date a silly little teenager?”
Tears gathered in Sarah’s eyes.
“Sir,” Raphael interrupted. “I do not care what you say about me, but you will not treat Sarah with such disrespect. Not in my presence.”
Her father’s mouth fell open. When he found his voice, he yelled, “Get out of my house! Sarah, you will stop seeing him at once. Do you understand?”
“I won’t.” She sniffled. “I love him.”
He raised his hand to slap her, and the vampire caught it with a move so fast it made her father flinch.
“You will not strike her,” Raphael growled.
Pulling his hand away, her father took several steps back. He watched the vampire nervously as he told Sarah, “Unless you stop seeing him, you can’t live here anymore. You can either stay and obey me or leave and never come back.”
Terrified, she looked at her boyfriend, who stepped closer and put his hands on her shoulders.
“Don’t worry,” he soothed her. “I will take care of you.”
Her father didn’t even allow her to pack her things.
Rafael moved her into his home, bought her expensive clothes, and gave her everything she could possibly want. She was already head over heels in love with him when he gave her a taste of his blood, and from then on her world revolved around him. Happiness filled her every waking moment.
It lasted for almost a year. The first hint of trouble came when he invited one of his friends to feed from her. When it was over, Raphael drew her onto his lap and kissed her tenderly, telling her how happy she had made him, and she decided it wasn’t so bad. Pleasing him mattered more to her than anything else in the world. If this was what he wanted, she would do it whenever he asked.
And he did ask. Soon there were more friends, then parties. At some point, he stopped asking and simply expected it. Sarah convinced herself all vampires did this because they were proud of their humans and wanted to share them. Having tasted his blood, she had no choice but to love him, and the thought he might not feel the same way was too painful to contemplate.
One night, lying in bed together, he turned onto his side and gave her his sweetest smile. “Have I told you lately how delighted I am that you are mine? I want to show you off even more. Would you like that?”
“I’ll do anything, if it pleases you.”
“My good friend Charles wishes to taste more of you.”
“What do you mean?”
“He would like to drink from you and make love, as you and I do. It is a great honor that a vampire as prestigious as Charles should ask. Will you do this for me?”
“I don’t…” She hesitated, unwilling to say yes but unable to say no.
“Don’t you love me, pet?”
“You know I do!”
“Then say you will.”
So she did.
Charles went slowly with her, taking care to give her pleasure. She decided she didn’t mind too awfully much, and besides, it was only just this once, as a special favor.
But then Raphael asked again. Another friend, whom he didn’t want to offend by refusing. Having given in once already, she offered less resistance the second time. And the third. And more after that. After a while, she got used to it and gave herself freely to whoever Raphael chose. It was like making love to him every time, she told herself, because she did it to please him.
Everything changed when one of them hurt her. She protested, and he complained to Raphael, who gently reprimanded her. “You must do as I ask, pet. Love is sometimes painful, and that is when it is tested. I need to know you still love me, even when it is difficult.”
She stopped objecting after that. The vampires grew rougher, until she hated the parties and dinners. Sarah was determined, though, to prove her love to Raphael. Each new degradation made her proud she could give him so much. Then one night she overheard him talking with one of his friends.
“She’s quite popular,” Raphael said. “I’ve had more than one offer tonight. Will you make it worth my while to choose you?”
“I don’t know. She is not so fresh and sweet as she used to be. I think her value has begun to diminish.”
“I will accept another offer, then.”
“No, wait.” There was a sound of crisp bills being counted out. “Will this suffice?”
“I’ll get her for you.”
Something inside her died. But the thought of losing him choked her with panic. As the weeks went by, Raphael demanded more of her, insisting she let the vampires do horrible things, teaching her how to please even the most depraved of appetites. Sarah sensed disaster coming, and no matter how she tried to keep it at bay, it drew inexorably closer.
“It’s a good price,” the vampire said.
“Give me another ten percent, and it’s a deal.”
They were in Raphael’s apartment. One of the creatures who had bought her favors many times now haggled with her lover, and the amount offered surprised her. Then she learned the reason.
“Pet, you are to have a new master,” Raphael informed her.
She blinked. “I don’t understand.”
“Pack your things. Armand is taking you home with him.”
“For the night?”
“No, Sarah. You belong to him now.”
She begged. Promised to do anything he wanted, but he shook his head. “You are all used up. I don’t want you anymore.”
Sarah’s heart broke. She pined for Raphael with every fiber of her being, until her new master gave her some of his blood. As it spread through her system, the tears dried, and she began to worship him. She still loved Raphael, but now she loved Armand, too. She threw herself into pleasing him.
Her third master abused her far worse. With his blood he forced her to love him, but he cared nothing about her. None of them did. They made her love them, but hate grew alongside that love. Hatred for them, for herself, and for the things they forced her to feel. It festered and turned to bitterness. She embraced it. Cultivated it.
Two years later, she barely recognized herself. Now she belonged to an enclave of vampires who kept her and other slaves chained like animals, cleaning them up now and then to hand out to guests as party favors. Resistance gained nothing but a brutal beating. Sometimes they didn’t e
ven wait for disobedience but entertained themselves by tormenting their humans, then healing them with the blood so they wouldn’t lose what little value they had left. Every new vampire that gave it to her gained her undying love, because the effects never ended.
Sarah couldn’t change what their blood did to her, but she could deny them the satisfaction of showing it. Feelings were her enemy, so she did her best to kill them. Every time one popped up, she squashed it into some dark hole her psyche created in order to keep her from going completely crazy. She imagined her rage as a brick wall and shoved her feelings behind it. When that wall got strong enough, the blood could no longer make her obey her masters, no matter how much she craved it or how much she loved them. As soon as they realized this, they entranced her into submission instead. What little control she had gained, she lost all over again. Now she hated not only the blood, but the invasions into her mind that made her do whatever they wanted. Her rage blossomed into more than just a wall. It became a sort of power in and of itself. Each time they used their powers, she used her own to fight back.
At first, it made no difference. Change came slowly, but with each entrancement she got stronger, until she realized she could keep them out. She defied their will. The torture began in earnest, then, because it was the only way they had left to force her obedience.
Chapter Five
Humans are not food. They are providers of food. It takes centuries for a vampire to understand the distinction. Some try not to think about it; some simply don’t care. Only a few choose to explore what it means.
—Angela Clark, PhD
Raphael had found a naive girl, manipulated her into falling in love, then sealed that love with his blood. It would have been kinder to kill her, but Raphael was not kind. He’d used her love as a weapon and hurt her with it over and over. She’d sworn never to allow that again. But wasn’t this situation different? She was older and knew better than to trust a vampire. If her suspicions about ancients were correct, Scott was the one taking the risk.
This strange profession, specializing in fulfilling the fantasies of these creatures, was her way of taking back what Raphael had stolen. Instead of using her like a cheap toy, they now had to convince her they were worthy of her gifts, and they paid dearly for the privilege. But there was something missing from the equation, some vague need that had not yet been met. Could this be it? If she manipulated one of these creatures into falling in love with her, she would have the same power over it that Raphael had wielded over her.
To Steffen, she said, “When we negotiated your hunt, I asked whether you would be satisfied with something close to the real thing, but without the ultimate fulfillment. The same question applies here. Will you be satisfied with the pretense of a relationship?”
He met her eyes. “I would rather have a taste of it than nothing at all.”
Until recently, she would have laughed at the idea of a vampire who wanted an emotional attachment, but it was hard to deny his sincerity. Perhaps this really was something that came with great age. Perhaps as the all-consuming hunger for blood and cruelty faded, vampires rediscovered parts of themselves that had lain dormant for centuries. Was it possible humanity still existed within each of them, waiting for the chance to reemerge?
“If I try this,” she warned, “I’ll need to find a way to make it feel real just for the session, without either of us mistaking it for anything more. I admit the challenge does intrigue me. Give me some time to consider it before I give you my answer. I promise not to leave you hanging for long.”
“Thank you.” Scott stood, put his hands in his pockets, and walked away. Angie watched the bodyguards close in around him, one in front, and two on either side. He paid them no attention.
Doctoral studies took a backseat as Angie considered the decision she had to make. She concentrated on learning everything she could about Steffen Scott.
Being Lord of the province in which she lived gave him a certain celebrity among local humans, so she found plenty of material. He had come to Seattle over a hundred years ago, when Western Europeans first began to congregate in the Puget Sound area. The population was small at that time, and he’d brought only a few other vampires with him. During the city’s early years, he and his enclave had lived quietly, and historians speculated that their little group might have had a hand in the city’s success. The humans of their feeding ground prospered, and there were no reports of unexplained disappearances or attacks. This began to change as the population grew.
From old news articles, Angie saw a pattern develop: episodes of violence would occur, then abruptly stop. New vampires were probably moving in to take advantage of the larger food supply, and someone was bringing them under control. Was he just a good gamekeeper, tending his hunting ground by keeping the game healthy and defended against poachers? Or did he actually care about the well-being of the humans who lived around him? If the historians were correct, he had done far more than necessary in order to keep his people well fed.
All that was just conjecture, though. The historians had valid reasons for their theory about his part in the city’s success, but there was no definitive evidence. What he did shortly after World War I was another matter.
In 1919, an investigative reporter wrote a series of articles for the Seattle Post-Intelligencer about vampires in the region, full of lurid tales of survivors and blurry photographs of alleged attacks. Law enforcement officials began to talk about developing weapons and strategies for exterminating the predators among them. For the first time, Steffen Scott stepped into the limelight. He and the mayor of Seattle held a joint press conference introducing Scott as Lord of the Puget Sound vampire province and announced his commitment to negotiate a peaceful coexistence with humans. It was the first time a vampire sovereign publicly entered into a dialog with human authorities. The effects of this groundbreaking action sent ripples through all the vampire nations in North America. Less than three decades later, the Covenant was formed.
She knew he was a member of the Covenant, but Angie hadn’t realized what a key role he’d played in its foundation. She’d met him when she was still Sarah Miller, before she understood anything about the Covenant or even about vampires in general other than the ones who’d enslaved her. In the years since, the Covenant had divided the North American vampire world into opposing camps: those who believed it was necessary for vampires to start treating humans as equals versus those determined to keep the old ways alive. When the Covenant began enforcing the new laws it had introduced among its member nations, polarization resulted. In independent nations, a leader who talked about joining the Covenant faced varying degrees of opposition, sometimes enough to pose a serious threat. One such nation was the Northwest Territory.
The Puget Sound Province was isolated on the edge of the Northwest Territory, an area that included Oregon, Washington, Idaho, and part of Montana. Its Monarch, Amelia Astor, sat on the fence between joining the Covenant and remaining independent. Her territory stood on the brink of civil war, divided almost evenly between those who supported the Covenant and those who despised it. Two leaders within the territory, one on each side of the conflict, were openly gathering forces intent upon a coup. Whichever won would decide whether the territory joined the Covenant or opposed it, and the outcome would either add to the Covenant’s growing momentum or deal it a serious blow.
Steffen Scott chose not to sit back and see what might happen. In the last two years he had offered support to the pro-Covenant faction so their leader could peacefully challenge Astor for control of the Northwest Territory. If they succeeded, those in the opposing faction would either be brought to heel or have to flee to other nations.
He hadn’t exaggerated about his enemies. In the current state of affairs, those in the Northwest Territory who stood against the Covenant would do anything within their power to take him out of the picture. His two children were somewhere in Europe, not easy targets, but if he formed an attachment with someone more vulnerabl
e, that person would certainly be in danger.
Why did he want to? She knew a few vampires who kept human companions. Her protector was one of them. But the feelings those vampires had for their humans were only a pale shadow of what the humans themselves felt. In most cases, human emotions were simply a means to an end, something to manipulate rather than reciprocate. So why would Scott fantasize about such a thing? Yet it seemed it was something he wanted to feel, or at least pretend to feel.
And that made him vulnerable to her, just as she had been vulnerable to his kind when she was an innocent girl, all too eager to fall in love. What would it be like to wield that particular power over a vampire? Again and again, she went back to that question, and in the end she could not resist the temptation to find out.
Angie called him two days later. Lynette had refused to broker this deal. It was, in her words, a whole new level of crazy.
“This is how it will go,” Angie told him. “I’ll create a character. She will look different, sound different, smell and feel different than I do. She will have her own name. Her own personality. I’ll need input from you as to what this person should be like. She will be drawn from parts of me, but she won’t be me. That is the key to making this work—that we both never forget she is a fiction, a construct.”
Silence stretched out across the airwaves. She waited until he said, “I’m listening.”
“We’ll start midway into the relationship. Let it be a given that the two of you have been together for a certain amount of time, and the relationship has had a chance to build. We’ll create a history for them, a back story, in the same way actors develop their roles. This will require some imagination from us both, and a willingness to commit to playing our parts. Will you be able to do that?”
“I think so.” He drew out the words, mulling over her proposal. “I am willing to try.”