DarknessOnThePlains_TheBeginning

by Jayme Malvagio

  Kanati let out a nervous chuckle. “It was just unexpected. I’ve heard many people comment about my auntie, but…”

  “Yes, Enola…she was a good soul and I miss her dearly.”

  “You were close?”

  Selu handed her a freshly rinsed bowl and she dried it, nodding absently. Another fit of coughing overcame her and she put a hand on the counter to steady herself. Kanati jumped to his feet, grabbed a chair and helped guide her into it. He felt utterly helpless as he watched her gulp for air between bouts.

  “Auntie, why don’t you go lie down,” Selu suggested when her aunt finally seemed to calm.

  “After the dishes,” she said in a hoarse voice.

  “I can finish these,” she insisted.

  “I’ll help her,” Kanati offered, earning him a queer glance from both of them. “Besides, she doesn’t have that much left to do.”

  Taima’s gaze shifted between the two and she smiled. “Trying to run me off so you can have a little alone time, are you?”

  Kanati and Selu instantly protested, their voice combining into an unintelligible blur.

  Taima raised her hand, signaling for silence. “I’m just teasing you. Perhaps, I should rest for a bit. Selu, would you be a dear and give me a hand?”

  As she guided her aunt to her bedroom, Kanati grabbed the pot, sloshed some water into it and began scrubbing. He had it cleaned, dried and sat on the counter by the time she returned. She smiled at him as she grabbed one of the last remaining dishes and began washing it.

  “Is she going to be alright?” he asked drying a proffered bowl.

  She let out a heavy sigh before saying, “I honestly don’t know. She doesn’t seem to be getting any worse, but then…she hasn’t improved much either.”

  “How long as she been ill?”

  “It’s been a little over a month since the cough first started.”

  They finished cleaning the rest of the dishes in silence. Kanati carried the bucket of water outside and dumped its contents in the grass at the side of the house. When he returned to the porch, Selu was there waiting for him.

  “You can just set it there,” she said, pointing to a spot near the door.

  “Are we not going back in?”

  She shook her head. “I thought it would be a nice evening for a walk.”

  Kanati looked to the sky, mentally gauging how much time they had before sunset.

  * * * *

  Selu held his hand as she led him into the woods. They picked their way over fallen branches and intertwining bushes grown thick with the onset of summer. The cloying undergrowth suddenly gave way to a small clearing, lit brightly through the break in the trees.

  “Beautiful, isn’t it?” Selu asked, striding to the middle and twirling in a circle, her arms spread wide.

  “Even more so now that you’re in it,” he replied, joining her.

  She smiled up at him, reached for his hand and pulled him near. He caressed the side of her face, causing her to close her eyes before leaning in and pressing his lips to hers. Her eyes sprang open in surprise, but she didn’t pull away. Rather, she returned his kiss, softly at first, but her burgeoning desire quickly escalated the intensity. Her tongue sought out his. Her hands gripped his hair, urging him on.

  He didn’t seem to need much more prompting than that. She felt his hands leave her face and fumble with the two leather straps tied at her neck that held her top up. With a pure act of will, she broke their kiss and stepped back to finish removing her clothes, eyeing him as he followed suit.

  She felt warmth spring to life from her nether regions and spread throughout her body. Rubbing her dark brown nipples between her fingers, she watched intently as he slid out of his shirt, revealing a smooth, well-toned chest. Her left hand dropped slowly from her breast, glided down her stomach, the fingers touching lightly along her pubic hair as he shed his britches, his member already engorged.

  She let out a moan of delight as he pulled her back into his embrace. His kiss was now fevered, intense, contagious. Her hands on his shoulders, she pushed lightly down until his lips trailed their way to her breasts. He pulled her left nipple into his mouth while looking up at her, nibbling at it lightly, almost hesitantly.

  “Harder,” she breathed, running her fingers through his hair.

  His hands roamed down her back as he complied, reaching her bottom and gripping it firmly. She dropped one of her own between them and steadily massaged the area around the button nestled between her nether lips, occasionally squeezing it between her fingers. Her body tensed from the pleasure coursing through her. His skin touching hers, hair brushing over her, hands kneading her soft flesh, his scent mingling with hers to fill her nostrils with aromas hinting at the bliss to come. The sensations were almost overwhelming.

  Her body shuddered as she hurtled toward climax. A whimper crossed her lips that quickly grew to a moan. She worked her hand faster, urging her orgasm ever closer. The other gripped Kanati’s hair tightly and suddenly she was jarred from the edge as he pulled away.

  “What…” was all she managed before he dropped to his knees.

  Burying his face between her legs, his tongue lapped over her now stilled fingers, her vagina, her clitoris. The warmth returned, spreading faster, urging her hand back in motion. The first wave of her orgasm crashed over her and her knees buckled. Kanati caught her and lowered her to the ground before resuming his attentions. She jerked and twitched as he once again explored her now overly sensitive clitoris. Biting her lip, she placed a foot on either shoulder and grabbed his hair with both hands. His tongue searched deeper within her. His breath, hot and moist, washed over her thighs.

  Her body felt afire as he pushed her toward another orgasm and let out an almost guttural moan. She was about to climax for a second time and he hadn’t even entered her yet. No, as good as it felt, she needed something more.

  “I want to feel you inside me,” she whispered.

  He showed no signs of pausing.

  “Kanati,” she said, louder this time.

  His head rose. He stared at her expectantly, his face glistening in the fading sunlight.

  “I want you. I need you,” she began, grasping for words that flitted among her jumbled thoughts. “Be one with me.”

  She removed her feet from his shoulders and he crawled forward until his face was over hers. Reaching between them, she gripped his manhood with both hands and pressed it against her labia, swollen with arousal. His entire body shuddered as he pushed forward, burying himself deep within her. Suddenly feeling faint, his sheer size astounded her, filled her, threatened to send her into a permanent state of euphoria just by its presence.

  His movements were slow, gentle, as he eased himself in and out of her. She locked her legs behind his back and matched his rhythm. She could barely feel the warm grass beneath her back. The clearing slowly faded from around them as she lost herself in all-consuming pleasure. Her mind swam, her body tensed, she felt her climax building with such intensity it almost frightened her. She neared the edge and fought to stay there, not wanting to lose the feeling of pure ecstasy that held her in its grip.

  Kanati extended his arms, pulling his chest from hers, pushing himself deeper. The air felt cool as it rushed between them. His body convulsed as he exploded inside her, sending her past the point of no return. Her orgasm was so intense that her vision narrowed and her breath refused to come.

  After he collapsed in a heap beside her, they stared at the cloudless sky, gulping for air. He snaked an arm beneath her neck and pulled her close, her head resting against his chest. She closed her eyes, savoring the moment, reliving the event one precious moment at a time.

  “Selu,” he said tentatively.

  She rose to her elbows so she could see his face.

  “I love you,” he continued, caressing her cheek.

  Leaning forward, she kissed him lightly on the lips. “I love you, too.”

  Chapter Eleven

  “But it has been w
eeks since we last fed,” Pavlo said, pacing near the mouth of their cave. “Quite frankly, I’m ravenous.”

  “Ravenous or bored?” Niccolo asked with a snort. “As I recall, our accord was to not feed again, until I felt the thirst, and it has been less than two weeks.”

  “I had no idea you intended to use the agreement as a means of torturing me when it was formed. Otherwise, I would have insisted on provisions to ensure—“

  “Is it my fault you’re a poor negotiator?” Niccolo laughed.

  “In point of fact, I am an outstanding negotiator. I’ve just proven to be far too trusting when dealing with…friends.”

  “Then you wish to renege on the pact?”

  “No,” he said, shooting a look of disdain his way. “The mere fact that I’m soliciting your attendance for the event should be proof enough of my intent to honor my word. The good Lord knows, you have bestowed upon me ample opportunity to sneak a treat now and then while you are off mooning over your pet.”

  “Kanati is not my pet.”

  “And yet, you consistently put his needs above our own.”

  “I do no such thing,” he barked, fighting the urge to drop fang. “I’ve only observed them from afar.”

  “Which is why they fled from you the night I followed.”

  “They’ve not laid eyes upon me since,” Niccolo insisted. “Besides, what business is it of yours?”

  “Whatever…” he said, waving his hand in the air dismissively. “All we ever achieve is the mass attendance of plays and subsequent return to this God forsaken hole in the rock like some sort of exiles. I’m bored with it all.”

  “The plays were your idea,” Niccolo pointed out.

  “Yes, but only because I know well how much you enjoy them,” he said, gliding to the back of the cave to perch on a large boulder, brooding. “Besides, I was positive that if you spent enough time immersed in the scent of humans, it would hasten the onset of your thirst.”

  “Ah, and the ulterior motive is revealed,” he said before offering a half bow. “Well played, sir, but I hate to inform you, I’ve been known to go months between feedings.”

  Pavlo’s brow knitted as he contemplated those words. “Just how old are you?”

  He threw back his head and roared laughter at the ceiling. When he recovered, he said, “Old enough to recognize when a friend is truly in need. Come; let’s see if we can sate your appetite.”

  “Verily?” He instantly perked up.

  “Yes, but only on one condition,” he paused as Pavlo reached his side in a blur of speed. “Tonight, we dine on ghosts.”

  “Yummy,” he cooed, leaping into the air.

  Niccolo followed suit and soon they were soaring across the countryside, trees and rolling hills passing beneath them so quickly their colors and shapes seemed to blend into a single seething entity.

  They set down on the outskirts of a small community with which Niccolo was unfamiliar. A rough wooden sign posted near the road declared the town to be Hope, but he doubted there was much to be found in the tiny shantytown. As they walked down the main street, he was surprised to see that very few residents were out and about. The warm summer nights normally brought the masses out in full force. There were a handful of stores lit up and open for business, but there were no tell tale scents in the air to signal the presence of either a sizeable restaurant or even a saloon.

  A large church was situated in the center of town, its wooden cross looming high above all else. Where most of the homes and buildings of the town appeared to be hastily thrown together and in poor repair, the house of worship was a beacon of prosperity. The walls were constructed with rocks of various sizes, punctuated by broad wooden beams stained a brown so dark that it appeared nearly black. Stained glass windows were situated on either side of the arched double door. Each displayed an angel. The one to the right rose amidst a sea of trumpets. The other plummeted to the accompaniment of garish streaks of lightning.

  He could hear the passionate voice of a preacher extolling the word of God to his flock. With a quick probe of his mind, he found the reason for the deserted streets: The vast majority of the residents were held in rapt attention by the lively sermon.

  Niccolo grunted to himself as he considered his first assessment of the small town. He was wrong. If anything, the denizens were imbued with hope and blinded by the promise of greener pastures.

  “Perfect,” he said with a snort.

  Pavlo cast him a puzzled look.

  “We’re in search of ghosts and you lead us to a town filled with the devout.”

  Cocking his head to one side, Pavlo said, “Did you not feel them?”

  “I haven’t performed the scan yet,” he admitted, suddenly feeling sheepish.

  “And yet, I detected enough misery emanating from this place to virtually pluck me from the air of its own accord.”

  “Interesting,” he said, nodding in approval. “Then, by all means, let’s see what’s on the menu for tonight.”

  “I’ve already made my selection,” Pavlo said, facing the north. “It was his voice above all others that drew me here.”

  “Off with you then,” he responded with a flick of his hand. “Come find me when you are finished.”

  Pavlo nodded once before moving up the road at a brisk pace. Niccolo watched him depart, a smile creeping unbidden to his face. For all his age, he still reminded him of a fledging lost in the excitement and thrill of the hunt.

  Closing his eyes, he dispatched his mind’s ethereal fingers and searched for a suitable candidate to sate his stirring thirst. He flitted from thought to thought among the sparse population not in attendance at the church. His focus locked on a point near the center of the small residential area and he couldn’t help but laugh out loud.

  “Now that’s what I call timing,” he said, moving as quickly as possible without drawing attention to himself.

  He ducked between two buildings and used to his preternatural abilities to gap the rest of the distance in the blink of an eye. Pausing on a front porch, he cast a glance in both directions before easing the door open. The front room was in immaculate condition and furnished tastefully, if not sparsely, with a couch, several wing back armchairs, and a carved mahogany side chair that stood in stark contrast in the center of the room. The fragrance of the evening meal still hung heavily in the air, smelling of roasted pork and beans.

  Taking in the image of the man in the living room, he closed the door behind him gently. He sported soiled clothing that appeared to have been of a fine cut once, and unruly hair snaking out in all directions. He had the look of a man on the edge—and he was. His feet dangled dangerously close to the edge of a chair he stood on. His eyes rose to meet Niccolo’s above sallow cheeks. They didn’t register surprise or even concern, just mild curiosity. One of his hands gripped a rope, the ends of which were secured to a rafter and his neck.

  Using his mind’s eye, he quickly plucked the man’s name from his thoughts.

  “Come now, Allen,” Niccolo whispered as he oozed further into the room. “Is this really how you want to meet your end?”

  The man just stared at him.

  He continued to speak to him in a soothing voice. “Have you ever seen a man strung up? It isn’t a very pleasant sight. The lucky ones die quickly, their necks snapped when they reach the end of the rope. For no more distance than you have between you and the floor, I’m willing to wager you will not have that luxury. No, you’ll feel every excruciating moment as your eyes bulge, your lungs scream for air, your skin burns from the tautness of the rope. You will flail. You will claw at your rope, desperately hoping to undo your folly. Your bowels will empty and be slung throughout your room as your limbs thrash.”

  He walked slowly toward the man as he spoke, until he stood at the base of the chair.

  “There is no dignity in a death such as this. I understand your need to end the pain, believe me, but there are better ways for a man of your stature to deliver himself to the eternal
slumber.”

  The man stared at him with vacant eyes, obviously consumed by the sound of his voice.

  “Remove the rope,” he commanded and steadied him by the legs as he complied. “Very good, now give me your hand,” he continued, extending his own.

  Niccolo helped him down from the chair and led him to the couch against the back wall. Easing him onto the cushions, he leaned in close, bringing his lips close to Allen’s ear.

  “I think you’ll find this a much more enjoyable journey into the afterlife.”

  He opened his mouth, allowing his fangs to shoot forth before sinking them slowly into the man’s throat. As he began to drink, he shared the man’s every memory, not only as a visitor, but as if it were his own. Every touch, smell, emotion and thought was relived and drawn from. Thirty years of life was experience over the course of minutes.

  Niccolo broke the connection when he saw himself enter the front door. Staring down at Allen as he took his final breaths, he couldn’t bring himself to feel sorry for the man. He had led a charmed life, been given every opportunity. Born into a moderately wealthy family, he’d never done without, never experienced hardship. He was a deacon in his church… the Church, had a loving wife, a prosperous future as the owner of the town’s only bank, and high hopes of having children. Then she came into his life. Carmella had been so pretty, so soft, and she smelled incredible. She sat across from his desk, batting her eyes and showing a brazen interest in him. Succumbing to a moment of lust, he took her right there in his office and was caught mid-thrust by one of his employees. His wife left him, the church disowned him, and the vast majority of the good citizens of Hope refused to do business with him. Even Carmella had fled the town, unable to cope with the shame heaped upon her.

  “You have no one to blame, but yourself,” he said, picking up the now lifeless body. “She loved you, would’ve done anything in the world for you and she bedded you every chance she had. Yet, you had to stray. The temptation of flesh fells more men than even the mightiest sword.”