Bite Me: A Vampire Anthology
Page 8
“Verbrennen! Verbrennen! Verbrennen!”
Mirella hissed at the unwashed villagers as they continued to chant.
Burn. Burn. Burn.
It took several monks to hold her long enough to wrench her arms backwards, securing her wrists behind the thick wooden stake.
“You all will join me in hell,” she screeched as they piled branches at her feet.
Soon the crowd was whipped into another frenzy.
Mirella strained her head back. In the distance, she could see a cart being dragged through the narrow town streets. In the center was her beloved.
Vlad had a chain around his neck which then snaked around his body to bind his feet. His clothes were filthy and torn as were hers.
The villagers roughly pulled him from the cart and dragged him to the stake next to her own. It took several men to secure him to the post.
Vlad turned his head to look upon her.
“My love.”
“My prince.”
For over two hundred years, they had roamed the earth together, experiencing all the delights and rewards of man without any of the downfalls. They still remained in youthful bloom with radiant skin and lean bodies, showing no signs of age as the centuries passed.
Together they had witnessed wars, new religions and regimes, changing borders and fashion.
They had experienced each moment. Together.
Neither cared for the tribulations of man. They were above such things. If they witnessed a war, it was for the bounty of rich blood to be found on a field after a battle. If they learned of a new religion, it was with scorn and jest.
Their beloved Wallachia, despite the passing years, was still a battleground of unrest and a passing gate between warring countries. They had been forced to leave long ago after suspicions began to rise of their forever youthful appearance and the steady disappearance of slaves and servants within their realm.
Now their wanderings had taken them to Germany where both she and her beloved were to be executed as witches. They had been caught in the fervor of the witch-hunts and were to be burned at the stake.
The irony was not lost on either of them.
Mirella wished she could stroke his jaw and kiss his brow one more time, but it was not to be.
“This is only the beginning, my love,” called out Vlad as the insidious villagers lit the kindling beneath his feet.
They turned with their torches toward her.
Mirella watched in horror as the orange and red flames pulsed and grew like a being breathing in air. The wood crackled as thick, black smoke rose about her.
This time there were no vows. She knew heaven had long ago rejected her and she would not repent now.
Vlad let out a roar as the fire began to heat his cold flesh. She watched as his cheeks turned to ash and crumbled.
The blaze had now risen above her knees. She could feel the heat lick at her cheeks. Soon she too would be nothing but ash.
As it had so long ago, darkness soon consumed her.
* * *
Sweet.
It smelled sweet.
Mirella opened her dry, cracked lips. A single drop of blood fell on the tip of her tongue… then another and another.
With every drop of blood, warmth returned to her body.
Soon she was able to open her eyes. Her charred body had been discarded in a pile along with other victims of execution and torture.
It was their blood which now nourished her. Which would nourish her revenge against each and every one of these villagers who dared kill her beloved.
Chapter 10
London, Nineteenth Century
“Lady Camille, did you enjoy our little play?”
Mirella turned to smile.
After spending years searching for Vlad and enacting her revenge on each village member and their ancestors, she had finally given up hope and moved to London. A bustling city of constant movement, where the occasional dead prostitute was a matter of titillation in the papers but of no real concern to the police. As a wealthy member of the aristocracy, no one would dare question her unusual lifestyle of sleeping the long hours of the day in her darkened room and only emerging at night to attend the theaters and balls.
Tonight, she had attended a performance at the Lyceum Theatre. It was the theater’s business manager, Bram Stoker, who now engaged her in conversation.
“Mr. Stoker, how delightful to see you this evening,” she said, holding up her hand so that he may kiss the back.
“As always, you are a vision, Lady Camille. Upon my word, you seem to get younger every time I see you.”
Mirella hid her smirk behind her fan.
“So, the play, did you enjoy it?”
“Why yes, I thought it was a wonderful staging of Mr. Shakespeare’s Macbeth.”
Bram Stoker beamed. “I believe the director modeled Lady Macbeth on your own considerable charms. You must take that as a compliment,” he hurriedly explained, worried she might take offense at being compared to the murderess queen.
Before she could assure him she took it as a compliment, there was a stir at the entrance hall. Mirella turned but she could only see the back of a tall man with unfashionable shoulder-length dark hair and broad shoulders.
“Bram, who is that man?” she asked.
“I shall introduce you.”
Taking her hand, he led her through the crowded ballroom.
The man turned as they approached.
Mirella stared into the dark eyes of her beloved.
“Lady Camille, might I introduce Lord Dracula.”
Giving him a sultry look beneath her lashes, she said, “Lord Dracula, I have the strangest feeling we have met before.”
Vlad slipped a hand around her waist as he pulled her close, swinging her onto the ballroom floor for a waltz.
“Perhaps in another life,” he replied with a smile before leaning in to whisper in her ear, “my love.”
The End
About Zoe Blake
USA TODAY Bestselling Author
in Dark Romance & Horror.
There is something delicious in our desire for the corrupt, our ravenous appetite for the brutal, the profane, the unspeakable. The taboo. I write the type of books that give you a frisson of unease; that will have you questioning your own resolve as I take you on a dark ride of twists, kinks and perversions of both the flesh and mind.
Join Zoe’s Facebook Reader Group!
Sign up for Zoe’s Newsletter.
Also by Zoe Blake
Bad Babygirl: The Con-Artist (Bad Babygirls Series)
If I have to hurt her to get what I want... I will.
My little con artist is about to learn I run my criminal enterprise with an iron fist.
She is no exception.
She will do as Daddy tells her or there will be pain.
Broken Doll (Broken Doll Series)
My last memory is of the accident.
The rancid smell of gasoline and the silence...the deafening silence.
Then there was only darkness...and him.
I am his captive.
Papa’s Prey
She was his. His Property. His Possession...His.
Trapped in a world of dark decadence, the innocent Corinne is now bound to obey her new husband's every depraved desire. She is his little doll, to be played with and punished as he pleases.
Master Of Ceremonies
Alta Hensley
Chapter 1
The lights go out, and a gradual hush works through the crowd. Ada positioned herself into her usual hiding place, off the corner of the stage, so she could observe. She watched in amazement as he took center stage. He was the Master of Ceremonies, her Master, and the one man she loved more than anything or anyone.
A forbidden love.
A dark and secret love.
A love to never be returned.
He had the power to enchant, the power to hypnotize, and the power to capture the mortals who cast their eyes on his
presence.
Valian was a vampire.
A dominant force who, with one glance, could induce an almost drug-like trance in all who met his gaze.
He closed his eyes taking in the energy, the metallic smell of the blood pulsing through the audience’s veins. Ada knew Valian could feel their heartbeats, hear each breath they took, and could taste the anticipation of the show to come.
Gliding into the single spotlight, he stared with his piercing green eyes into the crowd of humans eating their popcorn and cotton candy. The red, gold, and purple hues of the tent around him contrasted with the black clothing he wore. Performers stood anxiously awaiting their cues to enter. Trapeze artists in tight leotards, clowns with painted faces, lion tamer with whip in hand, and beasts held by weighted chains were at the ready to begin the show. The growl of a tiger, the stomp of an elephant, all hid the real intentions of the paranormal troupe that fed off their paying customers. The beasts were not the animals in this circus… and it was just a matter of time until the trapped audience would discover that fact.
He began the hypnotic spell that only a vampire of his talent could weave. The crowd of innocent men, women and children locked in on his mesmerizing gaze, allowing him to suck each one in… one by one. Parting his lips slightly, he slowly took in their breaths, stealing a part of their souls for the duration of the night. He captivated their attention, demanded their focus, before the carnival even began. Without a single flinch, each one became unsuspecting prey for what was to come. They would be at the mercy of whatever the performers of Cirque Romani had in store for them.
Whatever dark, sexual, morbid, and even murderous acts that were planned for the evening, the chosen would cooperate willingly… eagerly.
“Ladies and gentlemen, boys and girls…” he began with the familiar speech Valian echoes every night. These are the words that launch a night full of entertainment, magic, seduction, debauchery and desire.
He introduced his world, the world of their carnival troupe… Cirque Romani. His voice bellowed out amongst the spectators. Valian demanded their attention, enticed them with what was to come, and began the show... the night has just begun.
This was the existence he led. Traveling from town to town, performing to an audience, and living amongst a cast of creatures that storytellers of folklore weave tales about. Magical, dark, and fascinating people who choose to entrance others with their sinful acts, rather than hide in the depths of the shadows. This was a troupe like no other, a carnival troupe full of true mysticism, power and dark seductive secrets. Killers in disguise, evil in costumes, immoral creatures in makeup.
Cirque Romani had also become the only true home and family Ada ever had. Thanks to Valian, who rescued her from an abusive father, Ada found refuge in the troupe. Her thin, petite frame, long blonde hair and short stature gave her an almost angelic appearance; although, due to her size, she was no competition against the strength of her drunken father. At the point when she had no choice but to escape, and take her chances living on the streets of Spain... Valian became her savior.
She could still smell the stench of her attacker’s breath as he pressed his weight on top of her. Seven years later, the dark alley continued to haunt her nightmares with the feeling of panic, and horror of knowing that the man was not only going to take her sexually, but most likely kill her afterwards.
She closed her eyes and recalled Valian’s rage as he appeared from the shadows, throwing the man off her. His strength and fury were terrifying, but she had never felt safer. This mysterious stranger was saving her life.
Valian had saved her.
When he reached down and extended his hand for her to take... the story of Valian and Ada began.
His dark brown hair rested slightly below his ears; his pale skin and ominous appearance gave him an aura that intrigued Ada. Yet, at the time, she had no knowledge of his secrets. She quickly learned he was a vampire who had an ability to hypnotize, and he led a carnival troupe full of paranormal creatures much like himself. It wasn’t until after she agreed to be his assistant that she continued to learn even more of his secrets: the sexual and sensual ones.
Valian had to feed every night. He liked to toy with his victims and didn’t always kill but simply fed enough to quench his thirst. Although he had a thirst for more than just blood. His thirst for sex, his thirst to dominate, and his thirst to have a bound woman in his bed begging for his cock when in fact she should be begging for her life and freedom, is what gave her purpose every evening. It was her job to ensure that Valian never did without. She was his assistant, in each and every way he desired.
She would have gladly been the woman tied to his bed every night. She would have willingly assisted him in his voracious appetite herself... if he would have allowed her. Instead, it was her job to prepare his nightly treat. He would entice a woman to his bed with the talent of a true vampire. He would seduce with his eyes, his scent, and his power. He would have them begging for more, pleading to have him suck from their neck, urging for his cock to be buried within their dripping pussy even though deep down in the depths of their being they feared and knew they were the victim. Each female longed for nothing more than to please, serve, and submit to Valian. Once they were in his bed, it was Ada who tied them up, sucked, licked, and continued to build their sexual need, until he could release them of the burning orgasm within. Her job as his assistant was to make these women ready... ready for the man she loved.
Ada watched the black jacket he wore sway as his body moved. The tight, black pants clung to his muscled thighs. His button down white shirt revealed enough of his chest to make her and every audience member’s mouths water in anticipation to see more. Valian had forbidden her from watching his performances. He knew that because Ada was a mortal, she would succumb to the enchantment meant for the audience. His hypnotic spell was like a drug that she couldn’t help but crave. She loved how his voice would ring in her ears, speed up her heartbeat, and fuel her sexual desire like never before. Her pussy would throb to the cadence of his booming voice.
She was addicted to the way he made her feel, addicted to the magic. She was addicted to feeling his power dominate her very soul. She was even addicted to watching the kill.
“I would like an audience volunteer,” Valian called out.
Anxious hands rose all around.
If they only knew what they were hoping to be chosen for.
Valian chose a red-headed woman and brought her to the center of the ring so all could see. Seductively, he moved her bouncy curls from her neck, revealing her freckled skin.
Black veins appeared on Valian’s face as his eyes reddened. Fangs jutted out as he plunged them into the woman’s neck.
The entranced audience cheered.
Blood trickled down her creamy flesh, and she moaned in desire as he stole the life from her body, hungrily draining her completely.
Casting her unconscious body to the ground as it served no more purpose to him, Valian gave a bloody smile as the tiger tamer came out with his beast and allowed the tiger to maul and shred the woman to bloody pieces. Chunks of flesh were thrown all around as everyone watched on with fascination and delight.
Little girls giggled. Boys whooped and hollered. The innocent had been marred by the evil.
The smell of death and eviscerated entrails overshadowed the smell of circus peanuts and sticky confections.
Blood. Mayhem. The spellbound audience cheered some more.
“It is time for the show to begin,” Valian shouted, licking the remnants of blood off of his lips.
Ada loved how the color of bloody red looked on Valian.
“He’s truly magnificent to watch, isn’t he?” a woman’s voice said from the shadows, startling Ada from her stare. Standing in the distance, was a woman in a black dress with even blacker hair framing her pale face.
Knowing that she shouldn’t be there in the first place, Ada couldn’t help but feel as if she had been caught and wanted to scurry a
way before she got into any trouble. “Yes, I mean… I was just passing by and… I need to go.”
Ada turned to run off, but the woman fully emerged from the shadows, and the very sight of her had Ada freezing in place.
“No need to rush off,” the woman said as she stepped closer. Her bewitching eyes, her captivating voice, made Ada feel vulnerable and at her every whim.
“I should go,” Ada said in not much more than a whisper. She should go, but her body wouldn’t allow it.
Was it the trance of Valian? Was this mysterious woman and her control over Ada caused from that? She couldn’t help but feel weak and compelled to listen to every single syllable that came from the woman’s mouth. “You and I have something in common,” the woman said. “I too am fascinated with Valian. He is an old and very dear friend of mine.”
Ada hadn’t heard Valian talk about his past often, and he never spoke of friendships.
“Has he never mentioned me?” the woman asked. “Dinah.”
“No,” Ada answered.
The woman’s jaw locked and her rich brown eyes seemed to redden right before Ada’s quivering frame.
“Are you a vamp— are you like Valian?”
Dinah’s expression softened and her eyes seemed to fade to a warm brown almost instantaneously. “But of course. Valian used to never play with his food. He used to only dance with the devil and all the beasts of the darkness.”
Dinah looked Ada up and down with an expression of disgust that quickly vanished and morphed into a seductive smile.
“I should go… I have to… work for Valian.” Ada managed to take a couple of steps backwards and wished that Valian wasn’t busy entertaining the circus goers.
“Oh no,” Dinah said as she closed the distance between them. Her eyes locked with Ada and any resistance Ada could have offered was swallowed up by a thick and enchanting energy emerging from Dinah’s inner being. “We’ve just met. I want to see why Valian likes to play with his food so much. I think it’s high time I get to know this little mortal of his whom he likes to keep near.”