Devereux- the Night Before Kismet

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by Lynda Hilburn


  He was surprised by the sound of his pants unzipping, the only noise in the stillness. He looked down, expecting to find her hand on the zipper and saw only his own. And as if he were watching from outside his body, he saw himself shimmy the leather pants down his legs. He stepped out of them and nudged them aside. His muscles tensed with the inner struggle.

  No. I will not willingly be her puppet.

  Feeling both excited and angry, he stood, naked and aroused, frantically searching through his centuries of knowledge, looking for anything he could use to break the compulsion.

  She sauntered around him, sliding her hands along every surface. “Yum, my dear. I believe humans these days describe someone like you as a hard body. Perfect.”

  He groaned, not sure if it was from pain or pleasure, because he knew she would force his need to build until she was ready for him to release, no matter how agonizing for him.

  “I see you still have no fondness for undergarments,” she said, with a dark chuckle. “That’s another thing I always appreciated about you: fewer layers to peel off.” She looked around, tapping her finger on her chin. “Let’s make ourselves more comfortable, shall we?”

  She flicked her wrist, and suddenly they were inside a candle-lit bedroom. Red and gold brocade covered the walls, which were lined with paintings of Maeve in her various incarnations. She’d gone by many names in different cultures: Aphrodite, Hecate, Artemis, Bast, Freya, Morrigan, Kali, Shakti, among others. A large colorful sculpture of her favorite, the winged goddess Isis, filled half the room. In the center was an expansive bed with a blood-red duvet, turned down in readiness for nocturnal activities.

  Though still struggling to resist, Devereux found himself jumping onto the bed and holding his arms out to her. He was ravenous for her body. The result of that interior war made his motions jerky and unnatural.

  I feel like a fool, and uncomfortably like a human under vampire control.

  She laughed. “Such a warrior. Even though you know better, you still fight me.” She sashayed around the bed, her wicked smile in place, clearly enjoying the view. “You are an exquisite male specimen, Devereux. Beautiful. Those blue-green eyes, that face. Really quite on a par with the minor gods.” She stared at his erection. “Hmmm. Perhaps the major gods.”

  Wanting her more than he could endure, he reached out to touch her, but she danced away, laughing, as the intensity of his need grew, until it was so strong he was tempted to take matters into his own hands — but his obsessed, controlled brain wouldn’t let him. Only sex with Maeve would satisfy. Only the feel of her skin against his would relieve the rising tension.

  “Maeve, please.” Hating to hear those words coming out of his mouth, but unable to stop himself, he managed to force the last part of his brain that was still under his control to add, “I thought you were in a hurry.” All he could do now was try to speed up the process, get it over with, despite the fact that his body — especially his aching penis — wanted nothing more than to spend the rest of his existence having sex with the goddess.

  She leaned in and licked her way across his chest, claiming each nipple, sucking greedily as she wrapped her fingers around his shaft and slid her hand up its length. “You’re right.” She crawled onto the bed, pulled the filmy robe over her head and stretched languidly, giving Devereux an unobstructed view of the body he craved. “Take me,” she mewled.

  He made a growling sound and, quick as a snake, grabbed her, gathered her close, and pressed his hungry mouth to hers. He rolled on top and rubbed himself against her, already moaning in ecstasy, ready to burst.

  Almost delirious with lust, they tumbled across the bed, switching positions every few seconds until Maeve ended up straddling him. Finally she impaled herself, and he eagerly began thrusting. They groaned as the orgasmic wave built, and within seconds they both screamed their release. Devereux’s body shook from his staggering surrender and his blood-lust rose.

  Crazed, he pulled her down, his fangs pierced the vein in her neck and he sucked, drawing in the unearthly elixir. He was almost certain that drinking her blood in the past was the main reason he attracted so many women. Her blood held magic, and she’d changed him. He didn’t know if it was a good idea to drink more, but he couldn’t help himself.

  Appearing blissed out, Maeve wailed, making inhuman noises.

  In the midst of the chaos, Devereux thought he heard the sound of men yelling nearby. Assuming it was simply his fevered brain reacting to the supernatural sex, he stopped trying to make sense of it and kept sucking on her neck, before turning his awareness to his erection, which she’d never allowed to deflate.

  A loud voice, close to his ear, bellowed, “Stop! Now!”

  Devereux jerked his fangs from Maeve’s vein and stilled the lower half of his body, inexplicably in charge of himself again. The tone of the words had sliced through the goddess’s enchantment, and he sobered. Or maybe it had been something about the voices themselves.

  “No!” Maeve said, springing upright on Devereux, the holes in her neck already closed, the blood drying. “Not yet. You weren’t supposed to find me for hours. You’ve ruined all my fun. I only had one orgasm—”

  Two large males were standing next to the bed. Both sported togas and golden crowns. One had a shaved head except for a long black braid at the nape of his neck, the other had short, curly brown hair.

  “Maeve,” the curly-haired one said, “you promised to choose between the two of us.” He glared at Devereux, his face a mask of disgust. “You swore you would not contaminate yourself with earthly creatures again.”

  Ah, Devereux thought. Gods. No wonder their words awakened me.

  “Damn!” Maeve climbed off Devereux. She leaned over and kissed his lips. “I’m so sorry, darling. It looks like the parade has been called on account of petulant deities. We’ll talk soon.”

  Reaching out her hands to the two gods, she rolled her eyes and sighed. “All right. Let’s go.”

  The moment she touched them, all three vanished, the illusion of the bedroom disintegrated, and Devereux found himself lying on the cold, hard ground in front of the castle ruins.

  He sat up, and shook his head, savoring the fact that he’d just dodged a potentially lethal bullet.

  If I were so inclined, I would say a prayer to those two gods for my deliverance. But since I am not...

  Mumbling to himself in the old Druid language he often used, he quickly rose, gathered up his discarded clothing, and dressed. Thanks to the timely arrival of the gods, he’d been saved from the escalating torture Maeve liked to inflict on her “lovers.” Of course, as a vampire, the physical torment never affected him except to keep him in a constant state of arousal, but he still objected to that on several levels.

  Truthfully, even in the beginning, before she’d shown her true colors, he’d never really liked Maeve all that much, though he’d been stupidly flattered by her attention, his small brain making the decision to disregard his intuition about the malevolent goddess. Being forced to service her had always been humiliating. And he knew her well enough to be sure he hadn’t seen the last of her.

  “Wait until I get my hands on Elliott and Laurence.” His voice echoed through the ruins. He shoved on his boots and brushed dirt off his leather pants. “They were right, though, about my choosing to stop after the first date. I have no intention of following through. I will simply refuse to think about it being over... Cac!”

  Date #2

  Devereux felt himself flying through time and space until, as if cosmic brakes had been applied, everything stopped and he was unceremoniously dumped on his ass on a marble floor.

  “Efutue! Yes,” he said, leaping to his feet, his hands fisted at his sides, “I will definitely kill them when I get back. A slow death. I will drain the blood from their miserable carcasses, then tear off their conniving heads and burn the remains in a huge bonfire, while I dance in celebration. I will—”

  “Oh, my,” said a tiny, breathy voice. “That so
unds terrible. I hope I haven’t done anything to contribute to whatever those people did to you.”

  Devereux spun around to face the speaker, assuming a fighting stance. After what he’d just been through, it was best to be prepared for anything.

  The meek voice belonged to a petite, beautiful woman with long golden-blonde hair and big blue eyes, dressed in what looked like a lab coat. She reminded Devereux of a slightly older version of Alice in Lewis Carroll’s Alice in Wonderland.

  “Who are you?” he demanded, crouched low, still scanning the area. “Where am I?”

  She threw her shoulders back, stepped forward and locked gazes with him, her wide eyes making her look young and innocent. She held out her hand. “I’m Lilly, a chemist at Devereux International’s Chicago office. That’s where we are.”

  He straightened and studied his surroundings properly. “Yes, of course.” He took the hand she still held out toward him. “I was just here last week, approving a new line of blood research.” He tilted his head, frowning. “I do not remember seeing you then. Am I to assume my... friends... Elliott and Laurence, arranged for you to meet me here?”

  “Yes,” she said in her tiny voice, as if she would frighten herself by speaking any louder. “I was part of a group the site manager introduced you to on your visit. When your friends put out the call, I told them I had seen you from afar and would love to meet you, both as a scientist and as a woman.”

  Well, he thought, making sure his mental boundaries were firmly in place and she would not be able to read him, if she even had the capability, perhaps things are looking up. While she does seem to be quite young — maybe not even twenty — there is a depth of intelligence in her eyes that speaks of wisdom beyond mere years. Maybe something can be salvaged from this insane idea.

  “I see.” He willed the tension to roll off his shoulders and pointed to the chemist’s paraphernalia in the room. “This looks interesting. Introduce me to your research and we can get to know each other.” He gave the smile he’d heard women describe as devastating.

  Obviously charmed and flustered, Lilly opened her eyes wider and pressed a palm to her chest. “Yes, um, certainly, of course. Right this way.” She took a few steps, turned back to look at him, and tripped over a briefcase, crashing to the floor like a mini-redwood in the forest.

  He hurried over to lift her up. “Are you all right?” The question was an unnecessary one to ask a vampire, but good manners required he be concerned.

  “Oh, yes.” She stood. “I’m just embarrassed. I was trying so hard to make a good impression on you and now I’ve shown you my dark secret. I’m the most clumsy vampire on earth.”

  “Surely not.” He lifted her hand and kissed it. “Do not be so hard on yourself. Everyone falls.” He laughed. “As you noticed when you saw me sprawled across the floor a moment ago. It is normal to lose one’s balance occasionally.”

  “I wish it were an occasional thing for me. But I honestly think something went wrong during my transformation. I used to be ungainly as a human, but now I’m not only uncoordinated, I’m also absentminded.”

  “Certainly you are exaggerating. Come. Show me.” He indicated one of the state-of-the-art laboratories. “What are you working on?”

  A vengeful goddess and now an awkward scientist. What is next?

  She walked into the glass-enclosed area, and flicked on more lights. “I’m a specialist. I’ve been perfecting several formulas that can be added to fresh blood to give the consumer a unique experience.”

  “A unique experience? What do you mean?”

  She turned too fast and grasped for the handle of the refrigerator next to the counter. Her elbow knocked against several beakers, sending them tumbling to the floor, where they exploded into tiny shards.

  “Oh, my,” she said, looking at him with a shocked expression, probably analyzing his reaction and expecting the worst. “See what I mean?”

  “It was simply a mishap,” he said gently, kicking the broken fragments to the side.

  She does appear to be accident-prone. I am sure she will relax once the initial nervousness wears off.

  “You’re very kind. Lucky for me I’m smart and good at my job or they would have fired me decades ago. Not to be immodest, but I’m a genius and my bosses — which includes you, I guess — are counting on me to create a whole line of blood-enhancers, so they clean up my messes and tolerate my problems.” She looked at him and gave a shy smile. “You even sent me a letter of appreciation for all my work once.”

  “Did I?” He noticed the way the light played off the golden highlights in her lovely thick hair. “Well, I am sure you deserved it.” Flirting, he slid a finger along her full lower lip.

  “Oh—” She nervously reached up to take his hand, but misjudged and instead pushed it away, hitting herself in the nose. “Ouch!”

  Devereux took a step back, unwilling to remain in the line of fire. She reminded him of a beautiful meadow littered with hidden explosives. One never knew what would trigger a blast. But of course, he always enjoyed skirting the edges of danger.

  Choosing to be more direct, and for safety’s sake, he lifted her into his arms, walked them over to a seating area, and deposited her onto a couch. “There. You are protected for the moment.”

  Her chin trembled as she fought back tears. “I feel like such a fool. I finally get to meet my idol and I’m ruining everything.”

  Her idol?

  “You have not ruined anything.” He snuggled close and draped his arm along the back of the couch, his fingers stroking her shoulder. Such a vulnerable young woman. She brought out his protective instincts.

  She nestled against him and sighed. “You smell so good.”

  “Thank you.” He was glad she thought so; after his bout with Maeve, he wasn’t sure how spring-time fresh he was anymore. “Now, before I expire from curiosity, what are blood-enhancers, and why do we want you to create them?”

  She shifted her body so she could look at him. “You know how vampires aren’t affected by most human drugs?” she said, punctuating her words with excited hand gestures. “Nothing works on us, not heroin, meth, not even any of the psych meds. Our brains are different, so the medications that help mortal symptoms don’t apply to ours.” She paused and studied his face.

  “Yes.” He patted her arm to soothe the sudden anxiety he picked up from reading her thoughts.

  She wants to impress me and has high hopes for the evening. Hmm. She is thinking about a bedroom in the back. But there is something else. Something that frightens her.

  His gaze shifted to a partially open door at the far end of the space where a candle burned on a table next to a turned-down bed. He suspected she had never used the employee sleeping area for such a purpose before.

  Her thoughts warred with each other. He knew she wanted to talk to him about her professional work because she was fanatically dedicated to it, but she was worried she wouldn’t have time to seduce him, as planned. She didn’t know how long the date could last. Seducing him seemed very important.

  Well, he concluded, why not enjoy myself? How difficult would it be for him to make sure their time together was all she dreamed it could be? Just a simple kindness he could perform for a sweet woman. After all, as the boss, it was important for him to do everything he could to encourage good company relations.

  “I am aware that this laboratory has been doing research on the differences between human and vampire brains. Are you saying you have made a breakthrough?”

  Her face lit up. “Yes — as often happens in scientific exploration, discoveries are made by accident while looking at something else.”

  “What did you discover?”

  She stood and offered her hand. “We’ll have to go in the other room so I can show you. I promise to try not to destroy anything else tonight.”

  Glad he was relatively indestructible, he took her hand and followed her into the sterile-looking laboratory again. They stood at a work counter filled with co
lorful vials and bottles, stark under the florescent lights. A floral aroma pulsing from an electronic dispenser barely covered the scent of old blood.

  He reached out and lifted a bottle to read the label.

  Lilly smacked his hand and retrieved it from his grip. “No touching!” she blurted, as if she were scolding a naughty pet.

  He frowned at her, then looked down at his empty hand.

  She pressed her palms against her mouth, her eyes wide. “Oh, Master Devereux—” Her voice softened into the child-like tone again. “I am so very sorry. Coworkers are always borrowing samples of my work and I’ve had to become rather aggressive about keeping them away.” She stroked his arm and looked into his eyes. “Please accept my apology. Of course, you can touch anything you wish,” she said, suggestively.

  “Apology accepted.” Very strange. Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde come to mind. “So, the breakthrough?”

  “Yes. I found a new class of drugs. It’s nothing earth-shattering, because vampires really don’t get sick or have need of medical attention. But when added to human blood, one formula causes vampires to feel pleasure, or to go on a ‘trip,’ as the mortals call it, or have some other desired effect.” She pointed to another of the mixtures. “There is a decided romantic and sexual element inherent in some of the tinctures, very similar to the human drugs ecstasy or LSD. ”

  “Are the new drugs successful only with human blood, or does animal or vampire blood work as well?” He trailed his fingers across the colorful vials.

  “Fresh human blood is best, and fresh animal blood also works. Vampire blood just gives a weaker version of the expected reaction, but it’s also effective.”

 

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