by Sara K
"I do not want anything in return." He said. "I simply want you to experience the pleasure your body can produce."
"Please, let me up." She begged. She fought the tears uselessly.
His hands stroked up her thigh. She heard his intake of breath, telling her he liked what he saw.
"You are beautiful." He exclaimed. "A treasure." His gaze fixed on the soft, pink lips. He saw marks marring her skin, a reminder of her history. His blood boiled in a fury, his eyes flashed with anger and revulsion. How dare his woman be harmed in anyway? Her precious treasure had been violated. She had been hurt and damaged severely. Clara sensed the change in him. "You're angry at me." she asked tiredly.
Michael let his features soften. What was he thinking? Here she was sprawled out on the bed and selfishly he was removing himself from what was important. "Oh, sweetheart. Never at you. I am angry at the world for causing you pain." he bent over her, capturing her chin. "No one will ever hurt you again. Not in anyway." He vowed. Without waiting for a response, his fingers skimmed inside, along the lips. He parted the folds, stroking the flesh – and paused.
She was dry. Lifting his head he searched her face that seemed to be marred with pain than pleasure. Her eyes were closed, her mouth parted. Michael withdrew his fingers realising what he had made her feel had no impact on her. Bending his head, his fingers parted the folds, gently touching the skin finding her yet again dry. There was no moisture. Very gently he slid his finger inside her only a little. He found the same result. He coaxed her into sleep.
Michael stared down at her little form and thought of his discovery. The discovery he had anticipated. A little while later, he sank his fangs into her neck and drank her liquid sweet blood, feeling the desire slip into his blood stream. It didn’t satisfy his thirst nor sedate his lush and passion. Seeing her sleep peacefully on the bed, covered only by a thin sheet. Michael burnt for her. How easy would it be if he slipped himself inside her whilst she was asleep, only to temporary relieve his discomfort.
Taking several steps back from the bed, untrusting himself Michael fled the house and drifted across town where he found his victims. A man and woman, both young and lively. With dark fury and anger he ripped out the woman's throat and drank with pleasure. Not sexual but the sheer ecstasy to kill his prey. The man had the same fate; his screams rang in the silent night. Disposing off both victims, he felt a sense of relief and power.
He had killed two innocent mortals tonight with a song in his heart. That was worrying.
Chapter 19: The HUNT
Michael landed in the empty meadow and saw Justin, with a grim expression on his face. He couldn’t hide from Justin of what he had done. The guilt consumed him; the realisation that he had killed two innocent people gleefully was a painful reminder of the consuming darkness. Was he so near the end that killing his prey was so very satisfactory?
Justin glared at Michael, the scent of death lingered over him. He wasn’t surprised. It was only a matter of time before Justin knew Michael would take pleasure in killing.
"What you did tonight was against our laws." Justin accused severely. "You did the most formidable deed by taking the lives of those mortals. The High Council will condemn the killings."
Michael knew the consequences of breaking the Immortal Code of Conduct. Michael didn’t even flinch against the accusations, instead remained still. "I no longer follow laws. I am Law unto myself. As for the mortals I killed gratifyingly, for the power I have is beyond imaginable."
"You feel no guilt." Justin asked.
" I could not control myself. The venom is growing. I do not think I can hold on any longer." His voice was filled with torture.
"You are strong, Michael. Do not give in."
"It is only a matter of time before I am unstoppable." Michael confessed. "I fear for Clara. I do not want to harm her. I take her blood, I am afraid during blood taking I cannot stop."
"You have done yourself no favours, Michael. How would Clara feel if she knew about those deaths?"
Michael glanced at the sky to see dawn approaching. "I must give her away. It is better for her to go back to her world. I am a danger to her."
Justin shook his head in disbelieve. "Why don’t you just rip her throat out too and kill her before giving up."
Michael's fists clenched together. "Do not play with me."
"I am not. You are so ready to give her up. She needs you, she may not realise that yet but she cannot live in the human world. She is part of you."
"I will seek the sun and she will be free from me."
"You know that is not true, Michael. You are part of her soul and vice versa. If she loses you, she loses herself." Justin voice echoed softly. "Are you willing to sacrifice her?"
Justin paused, letting his words sink in. Michael remained silent.
"You cannot watch her die. She would want neither. Would you rather spare her the pain of watching your death and die first." Justin taunted.
"Enough." Michael bellowed.
Ignoring him, Justin continued. "Next time, Clara does anything reckless. Allow her. If she ends up succeeding you can simply follow her into the next life by meeting the sun. If you are so willing to give up, Michael. Let it be."
Furious, Michael lunged through the air towards Justin, who evaporated into air. Michael landed on his feet few yards away and turned to see Justin appear behind him. The two males glared each other for several empty seconds, neither moving. Voluntary Michael took a step back, Justin had been his friend and acquaintance for centuries, and he didn’t want to lose the friendship because of his lack of stupidity and control over his own actions. As much as he disliked the other male for taunting him he knew Justin was right. Yet some part of him refused to accept it.
"You do not want to fight me" Justin stated, watching the hard lines in the other male's face. He was toxic.
Michael allowed his face to relax but his posture didn’t change. "I would be much of a coward."
"You would be a coward if you sacrificed Clara’s life by letting her go. She is unique with power. Re-entering the human world could be fatal?"
Michael turned his face towards the dark sky. "You do not understand, my friend. I have killed and I will yet to kill. The passion of the hunt is stronger than before and is mixed with the desire to have Clara in the wildest sexual frenzy. If I do not remove myself from her…" he paused, formed a fireball and sent it through the field watching as it burnt a stack of hay.
"Break the ties, Michael and she will be in grave danger." Justin warned. "You will not be able to protect her from Shea. Now is not the time to let your guard down or be self-absorbed. We are facing a battle, Michael. You have control. Use it."
Yes he had control. He was a warrior. One of the strongest of the warriors of his race. He had self-control before but as time went on his willpower decreased to a minimum. What he had done tonight proved the theory that he was a killer with no strength of will.
Michael turned around to find Justin gone.
Ah, Shea. He had waited for her for years to resurface. Now that she had he would take her on. Bring the battle to her. He would find her. When he did he would give her death. Even at the cost of his own soul.
A slight smile curved his lips. He had made his sole promise.
Shea was his ultimate prey.
On the east side of town, feminine laughter full of menace rang through the night. The owl who witnessed this, fled through the narrow gap in the cave towards freedom – as if terrified of the plotting deep within the earth.
"Excellent!" Shea clasped her long fingers together in satisfaction as she listened to her assistant, Zankoo retell his findings. There was eagerness in his voice. Shea liked that about him. She enjoyed that fact that the vampire she created thought on her level.
She licked her red blood-stained lips, feeling the power of blood nourish her. Her eyes remained fixed on the vampire as she listened closely to every detail, absorbing the information and pla
nning in her mind.
When Zankoo finished he watched the vampiress in wonder. She always had a plan. She walked around in a circle, the red gown sliding over mud and dirt.
So her enemies were closer than she thought. Oh, she knew they were in Ohio. Now this new piece of information was very valuable. Excitement welled through her. Michael had found the human woman and she resided with him in the mansion she ordered to be destroyed. Justin McGowan had also arrived in Ohio with his wife.
Interesting. She thought gleefully. Revenge will come in different forms. She would make them suffer endlessly. Very soon she would take his heart. Then his fate would be in her hands.
Michael was close to falling into darkness. He would be like her. Perhaps she would bring him over and let him live. Various possibilities flashed through her mind. Vengeance could never be any sweeter. But first…
Shea turned around towards Zankoo who remained watching her in fascination. "Now, lover." She purred softly, opening her gown she let the satin material fall to the ground. Shea walked towards him, her skin pale in the candlelight. "A little treat for your efforts."
Zankoo met her halfway.
Chapter 20: The Judge, The Jury, The Executioner
Beauty and the beast Clara still found it difficult to believe they were going to the movies to see the film. Actually she found it surprising that Michael would actually suggest the idea. She never thought of him of being the entertainment type. But he had actually suggested the idea to her this evening, which left her utterly stunned. Now dressed in jeans and a light top, Clara let him hold her hand as they walked down the street - although she felt slightly uncomfortable as the memory of last night flashed through her mind. Her face reddened and she looked away. What was she thinking letting him touch her? What was it he had said? That he would take away her pain and give her pleasure. She could only remember bits and pieces of their conversation. The rest was foggy.
Had she imagined the wolf – no she saw the wolf turn into Michael. God, now that she thought clearly the whole idea was unbelieving. People didn’t change shape, neither did they communicate telepathically. With Michael anything was possible. She just had to get used to his bizarre world. What else was he capable of doing? Clara shivered and Michael drew her closer to him. His arms circled around her waist, tugging her at his side.
"Cold." He asked simply, without looking at her.
Clara shook her head, not trusting herself to speak. "A little."
His hand on her waist began to rub her back. She felt heat radiate through the thin material of her top. She almost felt his fingers on her bare skin. Just like last night. Clara nearly gasped aloud before catching herself. She was in trouble for letting him touch her body. What was she expecting?
Shame and guilt ate at her. Not only that but the fact that he hadn’t spoken about it. Didn’t he like looking at her? Could it be that for some reason he hated touching her in her intimate spot. Or did he like her to be undamaged. Mentally she shook her head to clear away those scenarios. Hadn’t he said he loved her and wanted her regardless of what she had been through?
Then why had he looked the way he had before he had told her to sleep. Did she do something wrong? Tears welled in her eyes. Tears of shame and hurt. She let her hair cover part of her face so he wouldn't see her anguish. Very slowly she tried to separate herself from him, but his hands were strong at her waist that she felt suffocated.
"Would you like to tell me what is bothering you". He looked down at her, the dark eyes searching her face.
"What."
"You have been quite and withdrawn. Tell me what is wrong."
Clara looked away. "Nothing."
Michael reached out, caught her chin with his fingers and tilted it upwards so he could look into her eyes. What he found there sent an ache through his heart. "You are lying. Your eyes are sad. Would you rather be at home tonight?" He asked gently.
“No, it’s fine really.” She gave him a small smile.
In the auditorium they chose the seats at the back. Clara glanced around to see the seats nearly full. When Clara settled into her seat Michael asked. "Would you like popcorn?"
"Of course, it's traditional to eat popcorn when watching a film." She said grinning. He disappeared and she leaned back in her seat. Her eyes swept the audience. Majority of them were teenagers, some adults who wanted to watch the new version of Beauty and the beast on a Friday evening. She envied the smiling faces, the giggles. These were people who were happy with their lives. They were young lively and free of responsibilities. Those who had met before hugged. Young couples cuddled together. Two teenagers, three rows in front were kissing with their friends around them watching with humour.
Clara looked away. She didn’t fit into their world. She was an outcast. She hadn’t completely lived in her world, when Michael brought her into his. The huge screen flashed and silence descended. She felt Michael return to his seat beside her. She took the popcorn from him and settled the corn in her lap. The sweet taste was wonderful, the sugar gave her energy and for a few minutes she believed the sugary popcorn was one of the greatest stress reliever.
The film started. Clara ignored the audience, including Michael and concentrated on the pictures. She hadn’t seen this version of the movie, so perhaps it would engage her attention.
From the corner of his eye, Michael watched her. She was so still. Her eyes fixed at the screen. Gently as not to startle her, he took her hand, and squeezed it gently. "Are you alright?"
"Fine." She replied without looking.
Michael took several popcorns and put them into her mouth, the sweet taste lingered in the air. He watched her swallow and his gut tightened painfully. For the next hour, he monitored her, not really watching the film himself but keeping a close eye on her. He did not touch her, and tried to make his presence unfelt. He wanted her to relax and enjoy herself. Sometimes she would smile at the characters; often he would see the sad expression cross her face as though she was remembering something. He didn’t ask. Dared not to.
Michael remained silent as he took everything around him into focus. He scanned the room, the people for any threat. For any sign of evil. Majority of the time he watched the woman beside him. She meant the world to him. His life. His soul. He killed two innocent people and his soul was stained. He felt guilty yet the need to drink and drain never left him. His control was running thin. Slipping.
Clara leaned into him maybe because in the dark theatre she felt lonely and afraid. Or was it because three rows in front two horny teenagers were continuously looking at her as though they suddenly lost interest in the film and focused on her. Both had black spiky hair, and tattoos running down their necks. The mischievous in neither their eyes nor the cocky grins they flashed in her direction made her feel uncomfortable. Everything about them unsettled her. She felt unsafe, afraid.
Clara took hold of Michael's hand and held it to her as reassurance. He was still there. He hadn’t gone. She wasn’t alone. After several minutes of feeling uncomfortable, she rested her head on his chest. His arms cradled her closer. Didn’t he know? Nothing escaped past him. So he must know how she was feeling. The men were watching her, she hated those eyes. Didn’t they understand that she was here with someone? Or did they simply not care. Resting her cheek against his chest and feeling the strong male arms around her waist, Clara felt safe, warm, loved and protected. She didn’t know where these feelings were coming from. But they were strong. God, she trusted him. She even started to like him. Although he irritated the hell out of her.
Clara was certain of one thing. In his arms she felt the love of eternity.
Michael gathered the young woman closer to him. Her slender body was tucked against his side. Her head was on his chest. He had known the moment she took sanctuary from him. Immediately he had scanned the room, his sharp gaze fell on the two spikey teenagers who he disliked. They had made Clara uncomfortable by paying attention to her. He wasn’t about to let them go. His fierce gaze sc
anned over the two mortals. He easily read their thoughts. Michael's arm around Clara tightened. They would pay. Just like everyone else who had hurt Clara
"They cannot hurt you." he whispered seductively into her ear. "You are safe with me."
Sometime during the movie her head rested against his chest, her breathing even and slow which Michael found fascinated. He cuddled her closer, protectively whilst both arms drew around her to hold her caged against his body. Michael closed his eyes, drew in her scent and absorbed the feel of her body. He could never get enough. His eyes fluttered open and for a long moment he watched her breathing, the gentle rise and fall of her chest made her breasts rise and catch his attention. The desperation to rip of her top grew with every ticking second. Getting his emotions under control, his eyes drifting across to the screen where the Beast and the Beauty were locked in kissing.
A dark shadow slipped inside his mind, eeriness settled heavily in his soul. Immediately Michael lifted his head, suddenly alert, alive, and watchful. He scanned the crowd for evil, sensed nothing. His nose sniffed the air. Felt the presence of evil. Of danger surrounding them. Surrounding the theatre. There was presence of a vampire nearby. Michael knew the vampire lurked outside, maybe was even aware of him. Instincts told him he needed to take care of the problem before innocents were harmed. After all he was being hunted by his enemies, it would be foolish to hide and cause civilians to perish because of him. His careful eyes left the surroundings and turned to look at Clara in his arms. She was still asleep, cuddled against him warmly. He couldn’t leave her alone, in a place filled with strangers whilst he hunted the vampire.