For now, it was just too soon to think about such things. She was only moderately attracted to a few individuals besides Loki at the time, and none of them could become a Fallamhain by blood, only in name, for they were already vampires. And anyway, Raina wasn’t into collecting bedmates in the same way that reclusive old ladies collected cats. She’d never been successful at maintaining an intimate relationship for more than a couple of months before, anyway, so she was content to focus upon Loki. Adding more lovers to the equation surely would have been a formula for disaster.
She finished the draw and expertly withdrew the needle with a clean reverse stroke, immediately using the nearby gauze to cover the tiny dot of blood that welled up to the surface in its wake. She held the gauze in place upon his arm, applying slight pressure with her fingertips, and she clicked the needle’s safety guard into place before dropping it into the same sharps disposal container as the first needle. Raina picked up the four tubes she’d thus drawn and tilted them slowly and carefully back and forth to make sure the anticoagulant heparin mixed properly. Nobody liked lumpy, clotted blood.
“Two down, one to go,” she sighed as Ethan got up.
Almost immediately, Ethan began to wobble, as though some invisible entity were kicking at the back of his knees. Then, all at once, he collapsed to the floor with a groan. Sophie gasped and dropped to her knees beside him immediately. Thomas actually chuckled under his breath as he also dropped to one leg near him. Raina simply stood on the other side of the desk and looked down with a heavy sigh, shaking her head. The big lug had fainted, felled by his anxiety over the needle for which he’d claimed to have no fear.
“Oh, God … Ethan? Ethan, can you hear me? Ethan, are you okay?” Sophie demanded with sudden near-panic, helping Thomas roll the beefy Sabertooth onto his back.
“He’ll be fine,” Raina assured her. “Keep his head level and his back straight, and if he starts to puke, roll him onto his side so he doesn’t choke on it. He’ll come out of it in a little bit.” She reached into the supply box and withdrew another set of essentials, looking to Sophie. “Now, if we can just get this last draw out of the way…?”
Sophie looked up to her, initially confused, then stunned, and finally fearful. She apparently had some concern that she could potentially have the same reaction to having her blood drawn as Ethan, although another part of her fear perhaps had more to do with the very idea of approaching the Grand Duchess directly. Begrudgingly, although not delaying long enough to cause protest, she arose and sat in the chair, stepping over Ethan’s outstretched legs while Thomas remained kneeling to attend to his fallen comrade.
Sophie’s arm, as she laid it upon the desk almost timidly, seemed positively fragile by comparison to the one from which Raina had just drawn moments ago. In fact, overall, Sophie appeared dangerously delicate, as though a strong and sudden breeze could knock her over with ease. She wasn’t exactly bony, but she was definitely too thin for her own size. Apparently, the Change had been quite difficult for her and she was still trying to build her weight back up, even months after the fact. Some vampires were just slow to adapt their lifestyle and eating habits to fit their new metabolism. Raina could understand that completely, as she had never returned to her pre-Change weight. In fact, at that time Raina was just a pound or two thinner than she remembered having been in high school.
Raina wondered if perhaps this was because Sophie was as reluctant as her to regularly accept blood when it was offered to her, either because of her own ethics or simply her squeamishness. Perhaps Olivia was not seeing to the physiological needs of her bloodspawn. If it turned out that Olivia was deliberately starving her niece, then Raina would have to begin exercising her authority a bit more firmly. If it came to that, she would need to think of a way to penalize Olivia without damaging her advisor’s loyalty to her. Even as a human, it had disturbed and angered Raina to see Makers abusing or neglecting their bloodspawn, even before she’d met Duvessa. Without exception, she absolutely would not tolerate abuse within her House.
Raina hesitated for a moment as she was about to break the seal around the third needle’s cap. “When was the last time you fed?”
Sophie blinked at her almost dumbly for a moment, then she pondered the question for another second or two before shrugging her shoulders and replying, “A couple of days ago, I think.”
“And who is your steady blood?”
“We are,” Thomas replied from the floor, raising his hand.
Raina raised an eyebrow to that. “Olivia gave you two servants?”
“Servants? Oh, no, no,” she said with a chuckle, “we’re just friends. We drink from each other.”
She shook her head at that. “You have to get nutrition from somewhere. You have to get fresh blood at some point, or at least something close to it,” Raina insisted. “Vampires can’t live off of other vampires, exclusively. They have to have an outside source.”
“We take supplements,” Thomas replied.
“That’s it?”
Sophie shrugged. “Every now and then we … go out.”
Raina narrowed her eyes at her. “Hunting?”
“No, no,” she replied immediately. A moment later, submitting to the intensity of Raina’s stare, she admitted, “I mean … not exactly.”
“Sophie...” Raina said in a low, warning tone.
“We go to clubs, you see. We … you know … we socialize,” Sophie elaborated, gesturing nervously with her hands. “It’s okay, though. We do everything legally. We always make sure to have their consent. It’s not as though we hang around alleys and pounce on drunks.”
“But you do feed on humans,” Raina said for her.
Sophie shrugged. “It’s not against the law if we follow the rules. Auntie O is very specific about that.”
“She’s not the only one.” Raina took one final long look at Sophie and finally shook her head. She began to put away her materials as she said, “Never mind, Sophie. I’ve got plenty for tonight. Thank you, anyway.”
She sat in silence and watched with a clearly disappointed expression as Raina hurriedly closed up her box of supplies, shut it, and placed it back in the drawer before shutting it again. She watched Raina pick up the four tubes she had drawn from the Sabertooth males and tilt them back and forth a few more times out of habit, meeting her gaze. Her reaction was that of unmistakable sadness.
“You … you don’t want me?” Sophie asked softly.
“It’s nothing personal,” she assured her, “but I just don’t think it would be a good idea. Quite honestly, you don’t really look like you have any to spare.”
She glanced down at herself, then looked back up, and actually began to pout. “But … I’m offering myself to you freely! I want to give you my blood, your grace!”
“I just don’t feel comfortable feeding from you,” Raina informed her flatly.
“Is it because Olivia is my aunt?”
“Not entirely, no.”
“Is it because I’m a girl?”
“No,” she said again. Then, a moment later, “Not really, no.”
“But … I thought you liked girls? Y’know, like Lady Brenna…?”
Raina stopped tilting the tubes and stared at her. For an instant, she felt something welling up within her, and fortunately, this time, Raina recognized it for what it was before it could come out on its own. She stuffed down her automatic anger with a long, deep inhalation of breath that she held for a moment or two.
At last, Raina said, “I think it would be best if you all went downstairs now.”
“Your grace, I’m sorry, I—…”
“Now, Sophie!” Raina snapped loudly, actually making the girl-vamp flinch.
Raina stood with her left hand clenched in a painfully tight fist at her left side as she watched Sophie carefully rise and formally bow to her before backing away towards the door. Ethan had already regained consciousness, and Thomas managed to help him to his feet as quickly as he could manage without bei
ng asked, throwing one of Ethan’s huge arms over his shoulders as he practically carried the other Sabertooth out of the study. Sophie held the door open for him and shut it behind him as they exited, although not before taking one last glance at Raina. For an instant, she somehow looked to Raina like a sad, abused kitten. As with Thomas, she immediately regretted the results of her poor emotional control, but again, she would not apologize. Anyway, the door had closed and Raina was alone now … alone with a handful of hot, fresh blood.
Raina allowed herself to flop back into her chair as she held the four vials of bright red salvation up and looked at them closely. When it was in a tube like this, she had found, it was a simple thing not to think of it as blood, and much easier to lie to herself and pretend it was something else – perhaps a really thick fruit punch. It was detached from its previous owner, and therefore it longer seemed like what it really was. Drinking it from these containers helped to remove the guilt she would have otherwise felt if she had instead taken it with her fangs, or some other brutal manner that involved placing her lips directly upon her donor. It was clean, sterile, formal, and just so … pure.
Unable to contain herself any longer, she popped the top on one of the vials, put it to her lips, tilted her head back, and downed it in a single gulp, barely giving it a chance to even hit her tongue along the way. The blood of every vampiric race was quite different in flavor, ranging from almost grossly bitter (Nosferatu) to impossibly sweet (High Court). For whatever reason, a Sabertooth’s blood was the closest she had found to what she remembered human blood having tasted like … although she had never actually tasted human blood since becoming a vampire. It was sharp, coppery, and only had a vague sweetness to smooth it out enough to be palatable. Undoubtedly, it was an acquired taste, but she had already come to appreciate it, just as absinthe had recently become one of her alcoholic drinks of choice.
Raina closed her eyes and recapped the tube as she sat in silent stillness for a few moments, moving her tongue about in her mouth a bit to savor the lingering taste. She felt the warmth of the small drink oozing down inside of her, spreading its warmth slowly throughout her body much in the same way as a shot of good rum. After a moment, she exhaled almost explosively as she realized she’d been holding her breath for quite some time. It felt like a tipping-over point as she finally began a gradual but sure return toward control and relaxation. With a swiftness far greater than alcohol, but every bit as soothing (if not more so), Raina felt the relief and comfort of the blood’s effect taking hold of her, wringing a heavy sigh of gratitude from her.
She felt herself practically melting into the chair, aware of the fact that she probably was acting like a typical heroin junkie getting their fix. Oh well. Nobody was here to watch her. Nobody could see the real nature of the Grand Duchess Raina Fallamhain, whom everyone seemed to think was so different, so superior to the departed Grand Duchess Duvessa Fallamhain. No, everyone had been made quite well aware of just how brutal and wicked and sadistic Duvessa had been. The image Duvessa had tried to promote of herself all those years had proven to be a lie. Her manufactured image of being pure and good and above all those brutal stereotypes applied to all vampires had seemed almost like a sick joke. Raina was largely to blame for that with the testimony she had given both to the authorities and in a couple of media interviews. Those that had known Duvessa personally had hardly been surprised. She had been selfish, egotistical, power-hungry, and depraved in ways that went beyond sexuality. Really, it seemed that there weren’t many people Raina knew who actually missed Duvessa, now that she was dead.
But Raina wasn’t like that. No, she couldn’t be. Raina had killed Countess Wilhelmina, Duvessa’s wickedly vengeful offspring, and she was largely responsible for the death of Duvessa, herself. Given, a hail of gunfire from security officers was what had actually killed her, and in all honesty Raina had been only moments away from losing the bloody melee with her Maker-by-descent. Nevertheless, Raina felt responsible for Duvessa’s death. Had she not said what she had, and when she had said it, Duvessa would never have flown into such a rage in the first place. Raina had been the spark to start the fire that ultimately had consumed her mistress.
But no, Raina was not the same brand of bloodthirsty bitch as the former ruler … or at least that was everyone else’s perception. Raina was just a lower-middle-class working gal that had been yanked from her human life, dragged into the world of vampirism, and then thrust into the middle of a violent feud between two High Court vampires. Good had prevailed, evil had been defeated, and poor, innocent Raina now had to live her days as a hybrid mixed-race vampire forced into the role of Grand Duchess, the queen of all vampires. She had the pointy ears and fangs and glowing skin … but deep down inside, she was just a regular girl like any other. She was nothing like Duvessa, nothing at all. In spite of all outward appearances, at her core, she was still Raina Delgado.
Yeah, right.
Raina could at least admit that she had been buying into the myth for a few months, herself. It wasn’t a pleasant reality to face, but it was an inevitable truth that she could neither deny nor conceal forever. She was a vampire. She lived for this. She lived to drink the blood of others. She was a monster. Sure, there were synthetic alternatives, and sure, she could go without blood for a great deal longer than most other vampires. But she would always need to quench this thirst at some point. The substitutes were never adequate, only a supplement. Nothing could beat the real thing. And this was the real thing, no doubt about it.
“One good shot deserves another,” she sighed as she removed the top from a second tube and tipped it back.
This time, she held the substance in her mouth for awhile, and only swallowed part of it at first. Was she being gross? If she grinned in a mirror right now, her teeth would appear to be stained an ugly, rusty color. If she stuck it out, her tongue would be a bright, gory red color. But nobody else was there. Nobody was there to witness her indulgence, her momentary acceptance of her true identity. Yes, she still had to deny herself the actual biting part. Yes, she still insisted upon drinking from a tube or a glass rather than straight from the flesh. But she was at least accepting that, yes, this really was blood that she was drinking. Yes, she had refused to take as much blood as she easily could have from her donors. And she had already come to terms with the fact that, yes, it was outstandingly, terribly, sinfully exquisite.
She swallowed the rest of that shot. Oh, God, it was more than just good. It was outright liquid sex – pure, hot, wet, and silky-smooth. Nothing should ever taste that good, nothing.
“That looks delicious.”
Raina turned and, with heavily-lidded eyes, looked over to see Loki standing in the doorway. There was a somewhat amused expression upon his handsome face.
“What, this stuff?” she asked, holding up the emptied tube.
“No,” he replied, “you.”
Raina smiled, gave him her best come-hither look, and curled a finger at him. He smiled a bit, closed the door behind himself, and engaged the privacy lock. His timing was impeccable. Loki was desirable enough in any other given situation, but the addition of a strong blood-buzz made that tall, handsome blonde bloodspawn of hers seem like an oasis to a parched victim of a desert. He either sensed her desire, or perhaps the look she was giving him and her mannerisms made it plainly obvious. Either way, there really was no need for words.
As soon as he was within reach, she latched onto the lapels of his shirt and pulled him into a fierce kiss. Their lips met firmly, and as tongues came into play, the taste of blood that was shared became less a matter of what Raina had just consumed and more a flavor of what was being freshly shed. Fangs and knife-edged teeth were usually more of an unpleasant hazard than anything in most situations, but she had come to love being clumsy about her kisses with him. The intermingling sweetness of bloodshed was an aphrodisiac like none other. He shared the sentiment, as well, for the feel of his thick firmness trapped between their bodies was more than enou
gh to convey his approval.
“I need it now,” she told him breathlessly as she turned her face aside for just a moment, reaching to the front of his slacks and jerking down his zipper. “Right here, right now.”
He said nothing in reply, though no verbal response was required. His physical state was more than enough to provide a convincing answer. She could not even be bothered to remove anything, for that would have simply taken too much time – only a few seconds, sure, but those were seconds that could be better spent otherwise. Besides, clothed lovemaking was something of a fetish of hers, as every experience could be made so much more different simply by changing outfits. Thus, she simply hiked up her skirt a bit more, moved aside the gusset of her thong underwear, and let him lean into her.
It hurt. It always hurt. Brenna had once warned her that, as a vampire, every time was her “first” time. No amount of arousal ever fully prepared her for sex. Proper foreplay only made it less painful, but never completely painless. And being that there had been absolutely no time for foreplay, it really hurt. There would be bleeding, she could feel it. And for a brief moment, she was all too horribly reminded of the sensation of Countess Wilhelmina’s sword being thrust into her body … as well as other far less pleasant memories, sadly enough. This intimate form of injury was almost enough to completely kill the mood. Almost … but not quite.
Raina held her breath for as long as she could until she felt him stop his initial advance, at which point she pushed herself up enough to bury her face in his shoulder to muffle her scream. She cried out in both agony and passionate release, her eyes actually rolling up and back into her head as she then fell back almost limply onto the desk. She reached up with both hands to caress his face from where she lay, but rather roughly, he took charge of the situation by pinning her wrists together above her head onto the desk with one hand. He began to move, slowly at first, giving her a chance to adjust and accommodate him while he coated himself with her arousal and her blood.
The Darkest Colors- Exsanguinations Page 8