Rillan scooped Mira up into his arms and carried her back to the bedroom. The air had cooled and smelled of the world outside: summer breeze and forest. He laid Mira on the bed so that she could gaze out the shaft at the night sky. With her eyes trained on the stars that she hadn’t seen in so long, Rillan’s change in demeanor vanished from her thoughts, and she nearly missed his movement over her body.
A gasp was forced from Mira’s mouth as Rillan pushed her legs apart and leaned down to lick the soft pink folds of her sex. He looked up into her eyes with an accomplished grin. Mira stared back shocked and uncertain what to say or do.
“So it is possible to get your attention away from dreams of running outside,” he said impishly.
“You are a very confusing man,” she said, with a hint of anger in her voice.
As if testing her, Rillan leaned down and licked her again. Mira’s eyes widened, watching as his tongue snaked out and stroked the sensitive flesh. He lingered on her clit, sucked it into his mouth, looking into her eyes again.
With her eyes drilling into him, he began to feel guilty again. Releasing her flesh from his lips he sat back, staring down at her exposed pussy, distracted as he spoke. His eyes were intent on memorizing every fold. “I’m sorry for that,” he said. “The inconsistency. How badly do you want to see outside?”
Right now the only thing Mira wanted was the end to the conversation and something much larger than his finger or tongue inside her. She squirmed before him on the bed, her legs spread wide in a wanton display that she did nothing to correct. If he put her in this position, she was willing to stay there. “Do we have to talk about that?” She was concerned where this was going and made a mental note to only look out the shaft when he wasn’t paying attention.
Licking his lips, Rillan continued to stare at her swollen weeping sex. By all the gods she’s beautiful, he thought. “No,” he said, never tearing his eyes from her. He reached down and stroked the protruding wet folds teasingly with a feather light finger, as he spoke. “But I will revisit the topic shortly. Only, tell me one thing.”
Arching her back, Mira tried to get more from his fingers than the cruelly light touch he was providing. “What,” she breathed heatedly.
“Tell me truthfully,” he stopped touching her and moved up her body. Pinning her down, he let the blackness take his eyes so that he was looking down on her trapped form with the beast. He watched her fidget beneath him, uncertainly, the flushed passion suddenly abated. “Do you really want this to make love to you,” he asked in almost a whisper. Rillan decided that he could handle it if she was only pretending for his benefit and her own self preservation. He would live with that. He wanted to know for certain what it was he was dealing with: a woman insane enough to want him or smart enough to lie to him.
Mira stared into the black. She didn’t want to answer him. It felt as though he could read her. “No,” she finally said.
Rillan nodded, the pain in his chest was back. She’s smart. The thought drifted listlessly through his mind. He shifted back to the task at hand, wishing he hadn’t wanted to know so badly. Without looking at her face, he moved his mouth to her breast, determined to bring her as much pleasure as her bravery afforded him.
When the wet heat of his tongue began swirling around her nipple, it was almost impossible for her to gain enough self control to stop him. She didn’t understand the pain on his face when she answered him. It isn’t as if he’s in love with me or even cares about me. Is it? Mira forced Rillan to look at her. His eyes had returned to the deep blue that made her forget what he really was. They were a little glazed and concerned. Rillan was worried she had decided to stop this now that he made her admit she didn’t want it.
“I want you to make love to me,” she whispered timidly.
He looked into her eyes searching and shook his head. “That doesn’t make sense.”
Mira swallowed. “You, not the vampire,” she explained. “Maybe I’ll grow used to that in time. For now, can’t it be you?”
Rillan didn’t know how to respond to that. She can’t be real. I’m having some kind of dream. Without a word he moved back up her body and kissed her. His lips pressed insistently against hers, his tongue searching her mouth. Mira wrapped her legs around his waist and pulled him down onto her.
Mira felt his hard, thick, shaft press against her. She thought she might go crazy, if he continued torturing her like this. Rillan’s lips moved from her mouth. He kissed and gently bit his way along her jaw to her neck, breathing her scent in and losing himself to her. He felt her hips writhe against him. Rillan’s cock began to grow slick with Mira’s pleasure, as she squirmed beneath him.
If he hadn’t been near giving her what she wanted, he would have given in when Mira turned her head, her lips a breath from his ear, and whispered, “please.”
Rillan pulled away from her, so that he could watch her face as he entered her. Intense passion glowed in her eyes. Ragged breathing hissed through her teeth. A sheen of sweat covered her skin. Rillan reached between them, took his cock in hand, and brought it to her entrance. He couldn’t keep the soft smile from his lips, as his angel looked down to watch him penetrate her, a strange innocent curiosity on her face.
The thought was matter-of-fact, when it solidified in his mind. I’m in love. The smile slid from his lips at the realization. Slowly, watching her, Rillan began to push into her. After only a couple inches, Mira let her head fall back and her eyes close. Her breath caught in her chest. Rillan couldn’t think of anything he had ever seen that could be more beautiful than this.
Mira moaned as the last of Rillan’s cock was buried in her trembling body. Soft gasps and whimpers were forced from her lips, as Rillan began to move against her with slow deliberate strokes. Rillan tried to memorize each sound, gauging what she liked best from the different noises that his thrusts rang from her body. She seemed lost to the passion, and she was exquisite to see. Nothing else in the world existed beyond that bed.
Mira felt the heat and need growing in intensity, as he thrust faster and harder into her. Her hands fisted in the sheets, her back arched and her body on fire, Mira felt the passion explode in her like nothing she had ever known before.
Rillan could see how close she was. He fleetingly thought that it was watching her and not the act that was bringing him to the edge. When her cunt tightened and began to spasm around his cock, he fell over the edge as well, releasing into her.
Rillan couldn’t stop staring at Mira, blinking was too much time lost. The small pleased, satisfied smile on her face, her eyes looking back at him with a shy wonder, her skin hot from exertion, covered in sweat, and blushing red under his gaze. She was perfect. Still, he couldn’t help wonder how long this could possibly last.
Chapter 6
It’s time, Rillan thought, standing outside the heavy door he closed on Elizabeth’s room so long ago. He rarely ventured into that space. Walking down the hall, haunting memories assaulted him, reaching into his mind from the hanging cobwebs. He reached the main room and could almost see her sitting at the corner table, sewing. She was always sewing, and the room always smelled of cooking stew.
“Rillan,” Elizabeth looked up from the pile of material in her lap that would eventually be a dress. The one she was wearing hung loosely from her frame. She didn’t seem to notice that she had lost so much weight. “I was starting to get worried. It’s been days.” She laid the dress carefully on the table and virtually ran across the room into his arms.
“Easy, easy,” he teased, holding her gently. “I’m in pretty bad shape this time.” Though, even in my worst shape, you’re too withered to cause me any real pain. Rillan buried the thought in the back of his mind. It was easy enough to do. Considering she never acknowledged the darker side of their existence, why should he?
Emerald green eyes stared up at him with concern. Elizabeth pushed him away from herself and looked him over. “What’s wrong?”
“Same thing that’s always w
rong,” he sighed. He hated what he did to Elizabeth when he returned, more than he hated assassinating the poor fools he was sent to kill. At least this time he wasn’t so far gone that he attacked her without warning. “I’m weak. I need to feed.”
“Is that all?” Elizabeth smiled. Her lips were still rose petal pink, though her face was gaunt and pale. “I have stew cooking. It will be ready soon. Sit down. I’ll get some bread and cheese for now.” Rillan allowed her to guide him to the bed and sat down. She stroked her hand over his forehead, brushing his hair back from his face. Kissing him gently on the cheek, she stepped back from him and disappeared to the hall toward the pantry.
Rillan breathed heavily. He could feel the blood lust building. Body aching with the need, he knew he wouldn’t be able to play house as long as Elizabeth wanted. He felt obligated to participate in the farce for some time before taking from her.
Elizabeth reappeared from the hallway with bread and cheese in hand, as well as a bottle of wine. Humming happily to herself, she took the food to the table, produced a couple plates and some cups. In short order, she managed to set a pleasant table. It was all he could do to not fall upon her while she worked.
“Come over here and have something to eat,” she called.
Rillan forced himself to his feet and went to the table. With the air of a faithful wife preparing a meal for her loving and devoted husband, Elizabeth served the bread and cheese, poured Rillan some wine, and went to the hearth to check on the stew. More than a little concerned, Rillan realized that she looked much more skeletal than the last time he was in her rooms. Has she eaten anything, he wondered. He had noticed that she only ate when he was in her rooms. That alone spurred him to visit her much more often than he used to.
Elizabeth pulled the stew pot from the wrought iron hook over the fire. “I think it may be cooked well enough.” She smiled up at him, and Rillan noticed another tooth was missing.
She’ll not survive another feeding, he realized. She’s too fragile. His stomach turned. Rillan briefly considered leaving and seeing if he could find a worthy blood donor in one of the nearby cities. I pledged to never do that. If he did and was caught then the druids would end their relationship with him. I’d never be able to live feeding off of people that way. I’m monster enough like this.
“How was business in the city, my love?” Innocence and love stared at him from the emerald glow in her eyes. Those eyes were the only part of her that wasn’t showing the wear of the past decade.
Rillan had even grown used to her strange questions. “I accomplished everything I was sent to do,” he replied without pausing.
“I’m so proud of you. How many women have husbands as successful as mine?” Elizabeth virtually glowed with pride.
Rillan leaned across the table, took her hand in his, brought it to his lips, and placed a soft kiss on her palm. As his lips touched her skin, his senses fired. He could hear her pulse and smell the blood flowing through the veins in her wrist. Feeling his body begin to shift, he closed his eyes and tried to calm the beast within, but he knew that he was losing this battle.
“Elizabeth, take off your clothes and get into bed.” His voice was tinged with the guttural demon tone that instilled fear in so many would be conquerors.
“But you haven’t touched your stew,” Elizabeth responded playfully, as if she didn’t see or hear the change in him. “Isn’t it a bit early for such games?”
Rillan wasn’t able to cope with her teasing this time. “Just do as you’re told,” he growled. It took all the will power he had to keep from raising his eyes to hers. The last time she looked directly into the black sockets, she fainted and didn’t recover for over a week.
Nearly in tears at his tone, Elizabeth stood quickly and went to the bed. “I’m sorry,” she whispered. “I didn’t mean—“
“Don’t,” he snapped, stopping the apology. The last thing I need is for her to start apologizing again. “Do as you’re told.” Guilt washed through him, as he got up and put out the lights around the room, refusing to even glance in her direction. I’ll make it up to her in the morning, he told himself. Swishing material sounds told him that Elizabeth was following his order.
Rillan turned toward the bed. He could see her in the darkness, feeling her way onto the bed. Removing his own clothing, he watched her crawl to the middle of the bed and lay down on her back.
Elizabeth stared blindly into the darkness. “Rillan?” Fear and uncertainty were growing in the pit of her stomach. I’ve done this before. Somewhere in the back of Elizabeth’s mind a vision of fangs and empty black eye sockets sent a shockwave of terror through her body.
Standing next to the bed in the darkness, Rillan could hear the sobbing begin. He knew the progression by heart. In a few moments the crying would stop, the room would fall deadly quiet, and Elizabeth would black out. Each second was palpable, as he waited for her breathing to even out. Watching her through the pitch black, abject terror on her face, he considered ending it for her. In her state of mind, Elizabeth would never ask for death. Her denial was too complete. There were only these brief instances, just before he fed on her, when lucidity overcame her fantasy, and she remembered what he was.
Finally, her trembling stilled, her heartbeat slowed, her breathing became shallow, and the last of the tears ran down her cheeks. Blank void was all that could be seen in her eyes. Rillan crawled up the bed next to her. Gently he ran his fingers over her face, closing her eyes.
Taking her in his arms, she felt even smaller than she appeared. Rillan cradled Elizabeth close to his chest and bent over her, biting her neck where her pulse seemed strongest. Warm blood flowed into his mouth, with each heartbeat. Careful to not take any more than necessary, Rillan only barely sated his hunger. Setting Elizabeth on her pillow, he lay down next to her and gathered her into his arms. Rillan knew that when Elizabeth woke, she wouldn’t remember any of this. She would sigh happily and cuddle against him, as if they were lovers and nothing was amiss. Then she would make him breakfast and force him to eat it.
A crack of thunder caught his attention and he looked to the open shaft in the ceiling. Elizabeth’s room was the only room, other than his, in the caverns that had a shaft to the surface. He couldn’t remember if the door on the shaft in his room was shut. Briefly he considered getting up and going to make sure. A ledge above the shaft in Elizabeth’s room prevented the rain from streaming into her room. The shaft in his room couldn’t claim such a luxury, and he knew that the rain barrel wasn’t under the shaft. Rillan started to pull away from Elizabeth to go deal with the problem, but a small whimper stopped him.
Rillan sighed, accepting that the carpet in his room may be soaked through by the time he got there. Some things are more important, he thought. Eventually, the sound of thunder, rain, and Elizabeth’s heartbeat lulled him into a fitful sleep.
Blood running in rivulets down the shaft in his room and pooling on the floor plagued his dreams. Cold dead brown eyes stared at him, his latest victim reliving his slaughter while Rillan slept. He found himself walking away from the blood filled room and ghostly body. As he opened the door to his rooms, he walked out of the caverns into the clearing at the main entrance. Sunlight blazed down on him, searing his exposed skin. Ignoring the pain, he walked to the stone altar at the center of the fenced clearing to find a pile of parchment papers. So many papers covered the altar that they overflowed the edges and fell to the ground. He knew these papers well. Lifting one of the scraps of parchment, he read the name on it, then another. Some of the names were that of the men he had assassinated since coming to work for the druids. Other papers held the names of the women who had died in his service. Some of the names were unfamiliar to him, but he instinctively knew that the names belonged to dead people. Maybe they were the names of the faceless bystanders who were killed during his missions. Perhaps they were family or friends of the others he had killed. Either way, the papers were too numerous to count. A breeze from the mouth of the cave
blew the papers off the altar. They flew into the sky and disappeared into the trees at the edge of the clearing. One paper remained on the altar. Rillan’s hands trembled, as he lifted the paper and read the name scrawled on it. Elizabeth.
When Rillan’s eyes opened, he already knew she was dead. Her body was still warm, but there was no heartbeat. A tear formed in the corner of his eye. He lay there holding her for so long sunlight began to threaten at the mouth of the shaft. At last, he got out of the bed, refusing to look at the body he left behind. For days, Rillan refused to enter her rooms. He didn’t want to face the task of taking her to the altar in the clearing. He didn’t want a replacement. In the end, he turned off all feeling he had left, walked into the bedroom, wrapped the body in a blanket from the bed and carried her out of the caverns.
Elizabeth’s small frame seemed to weigh tons, as he brought her into the fresh air and moonlight. “It’s not right. The first time moonlight graces your skin in nearly a decade and you’re not able to feel it,” he whispered, laying her gently on the cold stone. He stood over her for a short time, unable to remember the words to the prayer that his people said over the dead. It had been too long since he last heard it. Death is too constant around me. If I were to begin reciting the words I would never again be able to say anything else, he thought despondently, before turning back to the darkness and solace of the caverns.
Returning to her rooms, Rillan stood beneath the shaft, reached up and closed the heavy wood and wrought iron door. The hinges creaking echoed down the halls and thudded with finality, and he forced the latch into place.
Reaching up through the cobwebs Rillan took hold of the latch. Gripping it tightly he pulled. Nothing happened. Years of disuse rusted it in place. Grim determination pushed Rillan on. Taking hold of the handle with both hands, Rillan’s eyes darkened to black and his skin paled. One solid yank from the monster forced the rust immobilizing the latch to crumble, raining down on him in orange metal flakes. The sound of scraping metal screeched down the hallway, echoing out the main door and through the caverns. Latch finally open, the heavy door groaned on its hinges, and the door swung wide. More than a century of accumulated dead leaves and rotting vegetation dumped onto Rillan from the neglected doorway to the outside.
Mira Page 9