by Siren Allen
Still, his mind wasn’t fully ready to let her go. Therefore he wasn’t fully ready to turn his back on her kindred. The ogres stood, stretching to their full height. Stars, they were tall, at least three feet taller than himself. He’d defeated bigger and deadlier creatures.
One of the ogres sniffed. “Ah vampar,” he said, his voice sounding like more of a groan than actual words. They faced him fully, a huge wall blocking his path, keeping him from his mate… from Lark.
Thinking of her as his mate hurt too much. Stars, she’d shot him three times. He could feel his eyes swirling. Anger rose within him. Kill. The curse inside of him demanded blood. His nails burst through the protective gloves.
So much from shielding his flesh from the sun if the dome fully cracked. Raynor pulled his helmet off and tossed it aside. The ogres smiled, revealing jagged brown teeth, the filthiest creatures in the universe.
“Da Vampar don’t fear da sun,” the middle one announced to his group. Spittle slipped from the corners of their mouths as they laughed. Raynor waited, feet shoulder width apart, body leaning forward slightly.
He didn’t have to wait long. The ogres stomped in his direction. Each step they took caused the ground to shake. Raynor kept his position, waiting. His unmoving stance seemed to anger them. What, did they expect him to flee?
Raynor grinned. That did it. Faces contorted in rage, they ran toward him. Above him, he could hear the dome cracking more. He needed to make this a quick kill. Raynor waited. The biggest one in the middle was ahead of the pack.
The creature opened its mouth wide. A roar of rage filled the air. Still waiting, Raynor held his ground. Eyes swirling faster, he flexed his fingers. He knew the dome was cracking more, due to the thunderous footfalls of the ogres.
He still waited until the middle one was almost to him. Then he leapt. Before the ogres had time to realize what was happening, Raynor was soaring over the middle’s one head. Mid air, he grabbed the beast by the neck and pulled.
Kill, kill, kill, the chant repeated over and over in his head, growing louder. When he landed behind the others, he slammed the creature onto its back. Air swooshed from the ogre’s mouth, dank and disgusting.
Raynor didn’t give him time to catch his breath, he pulled and twisted. The ogre’s screams filled the air as Raynor ripped his head from his body. Standing up, he turned to face the others. Dumbfounded looks covered their faces. He tossed the severed head to them. It dropped at their feet.
“Next,” he drawled.
They thundered his way again. Once close, the one on the end leapt surprisingly high for one his size. He assumed Raynor was going to attempt the same method as before. Not happening.
Raynor ducked, and then rose, flipping an ogre over his back. He turned swiftly and sank his nails into the beast’s belly, pulling out a hand full of entrails. Glass rained from the sky as the remaining ogres grabbed him.
Sun crept through the cracks of shattered glass, burning the flesh on his face and hands. He could hear himself sizzling. Raynor twisted out of their grasp, needing shelter before the whole dome came crashing down.
Ignoring the pain, he swiped his nails, connecting with flesh. Blood covered his hands. He doubled over in pain when one ogre punched him in the stomach. The hit would’ve sent him flying if another ogre wasn’t holding him in place.
Two more punches to the gut and he was coughing up blood as more glass fell, huge pieces. A large chunk landed on one of the ogres, piercing his skull. The ogre fell to the side. The ground shook when he landed.
More of the dome came down. If he didn’t get free he would be burned alive and there would be no one to come to Lark’s aid. He would never get a chance to punish her for the pain she’d caused him.
And he had every intention of punishing her. The darkness agreed, pushing against him, wanting to be set free. Yes, Raynor would let the darkness rise up, let his curse rain down on these ogres and then on Lark.
She deserved it. They deserved it. He was a predator, and they dared to threaten him. Raynor jerked away from the ogre that held him from behind. The movement dislocated his shoulder, the pain nothing compared to the feel of one’s face peeling away from the bone.
Mind hazy, body damn near on fire, Raynor battled. Each punch he took only fueled his anger. Enough of this, his body wouldn’t withstand much more of the heat. He deflected a blow aimed at his face.
He moved to the right. Grabbing the arm of one ogre he spun him around, arm behind his back, and then ripped out of its socket. Bellows rose from the creature as Raynor dismembered the rest of him.
Two more to go. Fear shone in their eyes. They looked ready to run. He wasn’t allowing that to happen. He knew their blood would taste like filth, but he needed it. Raynor attacked.
It didn’t take him long to bring them both down. He didn’t kill them quickly. He merely ripped away their limbs so they couldn’t fight back, then he dragged them over the glass littering the floor until he reached the other side of the corridor.
Shelter.
The walk there felt like it took forever, he stumbled a few times, as the skin on his form fell away and he dropped his prey. He groaned, bending to pick up their bodies so he could finish his trek to shelter. When he reached the other side he stepped over the threshold and sank to the floor, bringing the ogres with him.
He needed to eat. But first, he needed to rest. Deep breaths hurt, but so did shallow ones. Even the skin beneath the suit felt burnt. Raynor stared down at himself. His suit was ripped in over a dozen places, his torso scarred with blistering flesh.
He laid his head back against the wall. Even that hurt. Bending his fingers was a chore as he grabbed one ogre and pulled him closer. Fingers no longer possessing an ounce of flesh, it took him three tries to get the ogre close enough to take a bite.
Gagging as he drank, he consumed the foul tasting blood. Never had he ingested something so rancid. The blood clotted before it touched his tongue, forcing the anticoagulants in his saliva to work over time.
Taking deep drags, he forced the cells down his throat. Once done, he let the body fall to the side and began the tedious process of draining the second ogre. His body tingled as it regenerated.
The healing process was going to be a painful one and would take more blood than these two ogres could provide. Yet, this was a nice start. By the time he was finished with the second ogre, a thin layer of skin had returned to his fingers, face and neck.
Placing his hand on the wall, he pushed to his feet. His joints hurt worst than they did that time he and his ruler had been bombed on planet Terron. It had taken him two moonrises to heal from those injuries.
This would take much longer, unless, he drank from his mate. It was the least she could do for him after all she’d put him through. Stumbling, he made his way down the hall, ignoring the bodies on the floor.
He was almost to the exit when someone grabbed the bottom of his suit. Raynor stared down at a male whose body was ripped to pieces. How the being was still alive, he would never know.
“Kill me, please,” the male croaked.
Raynor knelt at his side. There was nothing he could do to save this male. Even giving him his blood wouldn’t help him, it would only prolong the inevitable.
“Please,” the male whispered, eyes drifting shut.
“I’m sorry this happened to you and your people.” Raynor pushed the male’s head to the side, revealing his neck to him. This would help both of them. Raynor could put the man out of his misery while aiding the healing process he was going through.
Bending over, he slipped his fangs into the male’s throat, tapping the vein there. The male didn’t jerk, barely feeling the intrusion. Raynor felt when the male’s heart stopped. He pulled away.
He placed his hand on the being’s bloody chest and closed his eyes before saying, “May your journey into the afterlife be safe.”
There had to be an afterlife. This couldn’t be all there was. His people believed that when they
passed on, they were reunited with their fallen brethren in a place where wars, pain and hunger were no longer an issue.
Raynor stood up, feeling a bit stronger, at least strong enough to make it to his female. His legs felt heavy as he moved, stumbling sometimes, but never falling. He could smell her, her fear, her anger, her need for him.
Raynor would’ve laughed if he felt the act wouldn’t hurt. His mate needed him. Not in the way he needed her. She didn’t need his love, his support, his body. No, she needed his help, his protection.
Raynor moved faster. He told himself it was because he wanted to teach her a lesson. Yet, deep down inside, he knew it was because he couldn’t bear the thought of her in pain. He pushed that feeling down deeper.
Raynor tried cloaking himself but was too weak to do so. Two more times he was stopped by Venusians pleading for him to end their pain, put them out of their misery. He obliged, growing stronger and healing faster thanks to their blood.
By the time he made it to where Lark’s scent was the strongest, a thin layer of new skin covered his entire body and moving at vampire speed was no longer as painful as it initially had been.
Raynor stopped just outside the loading dock. From the shadows he watched males rolling barrels of weapons, Lark’s weapons onto ships. Weapons weren’t the only things they were stealing.
Carts filled with produce: vegetables and fruits he didn’t know Venus had was being loaded onto the crafts. And then came the main event. Chained together, males and females, Lark’s people were being loaded.
Those who tried to fight back were lashed at with long black whips. Feeling a rage, that wasn’t his own, Raynor turned to the left to find his mate. She was seated in a chair, watching her people and goods be carted away.
She was restrained, her wrists tied behind her back. The fabric over her shoulder was blood stained and so was the fabric covering her side. His mate had been shot. Heat infused his cold body, burning him with a red hot anger.
He would make them pay, all of them. Though she was tied up, the way she sat, so still, seemed strange. Then it dawned on him, those bastards had tranquilized his mate. Tears fell down her face, and she didn’t wipe them away. She couldn’t.
The only thing she could do was watch. He steeled his heart against the agony seeing her like this caused him. If she’d stuck with him, she wouldn’t be in this predicament. Together, they could be saving her people.
Instead, she’d chosen to run off with a sex demon. Was sex that important to his mate? And where was the demon now? She was probably dead. Just because the female was good in bed didn’t mean she was a good provider, a good protector. He was those things.
Speak of the demon and she will appear.
Ana came strolling off one of the ships, her arm bandaged. Why wasn’t she tied up like Lark was? The demon smiled and strode over to where Lark sat. Raynor listened closely, wanting to hear their exchange.
“So, Lark, have you figured it all out yet? Wait, you can’t talk. I bet you want to kill me now, don’t you?”
Raynor was sure Lark wanted to kill the female. He wanted to kill her also.
“Lark, tell me, did it not seem odd to you that I, a sexual deviant, was interested in someone as sexless as you?”
Did Lark tense? Was the tranq wearing off?
“Look at you.” Ana leaned back and stared Lark up and down. “Your hips, the way they flare out, so unattractive. And your ass has enough cushion, it could be a pillow. If you laid off the Earth food, maybe you’d be slender like I am.”
What the hell was this demon talking about? Lark was slender. She was just curvy… in all the right places. Lark blinked. Raynor leaned closer to the wall. His mate was recovering from the affects of the tranquilizer. Unfortunately, Ana noticed it also.
“Is the tranq finally wearing off? Good. I want you to feel what I’m about to do to you. I thought about sharing you with my mate. I know how much you would hate that.” Ana laughed. “But he doesn’t want you.” She shrugged. “Instead, I’m going to allow your guards to have you. And after they’re done, I’ll take you to Saturn. King Stonar would like to speak with you. You know Lark, you really should’ve been nicer to the King. If you’d given him a portion of your profits here, he wouldn’t be taking it all from you now.”
Lark lips moved slightly, but no words came out.
“Say that again, sweetheart, I missed it the first time.” Ana grinned, enjoying being the one in control.
Raynor would take that control from her soon. He stood up. A movement to the right caught his attention. Two males dressed in Venusian uniforms approached the dock, dragging the bloodied bodies of two males in the same uniform. Ana clapped excitedly before waving the guards forward.
“They’re finally here. Yes, bring them over. I want Lark to get a good look at them.”
More tears streamed down his mate’s face as her former soldiers dragged two of her loyal soldiers and dropped them in front of her. Lark’s lips moved as she whispered, “Manuel… Nathaniel.”
The two males struggled to come to their knees. What they did next shocked not only him, but Ana also. They bowed to Lark. A small smile formed on her tear stained face. And what she did next made him proud.
She bowed her head slightly, honoring them. Her loyalty was astounding. He only wished she’d shown the same loyalty to him. Maybe, in time, she would. Raynor shoved that thought away. Lark took his hope for that away when she shot him, three times.
“Loyal to the end, well isn’t that sweet,” Ana drawled. “I never liked you Manuel. You always seemed suspicious of me. I’m going to enjoy watching you both die. Aron wanted to be the one to kill you. Since he hasn’t arrived, I assume some of you loyals have killed him and his band of merry idiots.” Ana shrugged again. “Oh well, he was too chatty for my taste anyway. Kill them and then bring her onboard.”
Ana turned and strode back over to the ship, followed by males loading more cargo onto the ship. Raynor returned his eyes to his mate. The horror on her face was painful to watch. Again, he would come to her rescue.
Unlike the previous occasion, this time, his aid came with a price tag. Raynor cocked his neck from side to side, releasing a little of the tension that always appeared when he was rejuvenating.
As the two traitors raised their guns and aimed them at the kneeling males. Raynor stepped from the shadows. Lark was the first to notice him. Her face lit up… with relief, happiness? He wasn’t sure. His senses weren’t on point at the moment.
The guards were slow to catch on. When they finally turned around to see what Lark was looking at, Raynor was standing behind them. He wasn’t strong enough for a battle. He had to make this quick.
He snapped the first one’s neck before the male could raise his gun at him. He turned to the other, just as a bullet zipped through his chest. Not again. Damn Venusians with their damn bullets. Didn’t anyone know how to fight without weapons anymore?
Three strides brought him to the wide eyed guard. Snap, the bastard fell to the floor, but not before sending another bullet into Raynor. That shit burned. But, it wasn’t lethal. The shot brought the attention of the other guards. Raynor grabbed the two kneeling males.
“Grab those guns,” he instructed them. They groaned as they moved, but they obeyed.
He lifted them up. It took him a moment to toss one over one shoulder then the other over the next. They were heavy, they shouldn’t feel heavy. He’d done this hundreds of time, when his brethren fell in battle and he had to carry them to safety.
He needed blood. He wouldn’t be much help to them if he didn’t feed again, soon. He grabbed the back of Lark’s chair. Using vamp speed, he raced back to the shadows where he’d hid earlier.
A round of bullets was let loose on him, most of them connecting with his back. He could hear the males asking aloud what kind of beast was he that bullets didn’t drop him. They would soon find out.
Chapter Seventeen
In the shadows, he dropped the males t
o the floor and then began untying Lark’s restraints. Once free, she massaged her wrists.
“Raynor, I’m sorry for…”
“Silence, your words are not important to me.” Ignoring the hurt that registered in her gaze, he forced her neck to the side. “If you want me to help you fight your enemies, you have to feed me.” His senses didn’t have to be working for him to know his words disgusted her. Her gasp and groan was answer enough.
“I don’t want…”
“It matters not what you want Lark. That option left the moment you left. Feed me or die here with your people.” The darkness inside of him recoiled at that idea. Fuck the darkness, this was Raynor’s choice.
A slight nod was his only response from Lark. He could hear footfalls approaching.
“You will feed me for as long as I’m on your planet,” he told her.
Again she nodded, eyes filling with tears. The sight of them pissed him off. She cried because she didn’t want him. She cried because he was the only help she had. She cried because he disgusted her. Why the hell couldn’t she see that her disgust was destroying him?
His fangs slipped from his gums and he pierced her neck, not attempting to make the bite painless. He wanted her to feel pain, to feel his pain. Things were like this because of her. As he drank, he sunk his claw into his wrist and lifted it to her face.
She tried to move away, but he pressed his wrist against her lips. She drank. Good. This would help her heal, help her body eject the bullets lodged inside of her. He couldn’t fight well if he was worrying about her safety.
As he drank, he could feel her body healing. The eternal storm raging inside of him calmed a little, enough to help Raynor think straight. His own strength was returning, her blood healing him ten times faster than the others he’d drank from.
Though he needed more, Raynor pulled away right before two guards appeared behind him. They were easy to kill. He flung their head back to the loading dock, a message for those to follow. He turned back to Lark.