tagErotic HorrorA Dark and Deadly Lover Ch. 04

A Dark and Deadly Lover Ch. 04


He did not have long to wait. No sooner had he entered the private suite of rooms off the side of the office, whatever was in the drink hit him like a ton of bricks.

Swaying unsteadily upon his feet, using the walls and furniture to keep him upright, Daray moved deeper into the living room, tripping finally over the lounge chair Anise was constantly moving about. He landed in a heap upon the floor, barely managing to throw his arms out in time to stop himself from landing on his face. With a growl of anger he rolled to his back, the ceiling above spinning like mad before his eyes.

"Bitch!" He hissed between clenched teeth, fighting the wave of nausea that threatened at the back of his throat, leaving a burning, bitter taste in his mouth.

Darkness gathered around the irises of his eyes, whatever she had given him was going to send him into oblivion and Daray heard a laugh, realizing that it came from deep within his chest. What was so funny he had no idea, only he could not stop more from erupting as the darkness grew larger, deeper until silence engulfed and he slept.

Carla paced, back and forth, back and forth. Her throat was still tender from Daray's bite, yet a slow, warm smile worked its way across her lips at the memory, moreover the memory of him taking her right there in the park, hard, hot and heavy. Even after the thorough pounding he'd given her, the incredible orgasms she'd experienced, she wanted more... now!

She continued to pace the long length of the abandoned warehouse she now called home along with several others of her kind. She had lost her apartment after Daray had turned her, she could no longer work the dayshift and her nights were now filled with sustaining her need of blood. The sex was just a way to get it, offering up her body as a lure to satisfy her hunger. Sex that left her feeling empty, and unsatisfied all because of Daray.

Human or vamp alike could not make her body feel the way his could. Could not fill her to overflowing, warming her from the inside out as his climax's did. Even now, after only a few hours since he'd taken her so gloriously her hunger for him intensified, she wanted the feel of his powerful body pressed against her own, his hips rocking into hers, that incredible length working her to higher and higher plateaus.

Her steps faltered as she thought about him returning to Anise, what would happen to him if the more powerful vampire found out of their time together. Since coming here to live she had heard stories about the pair, how much Daray hated the woman that controlled him and how ferociously jealous the woman was. Only a handful of the vampires living in this warehouse with her knew of her fascination of Daray and all had warned her that she was playing a very dangerous game with her life. Anise would not tolerate any other woman attempting to lay claim to the man she had created simply as a sexual toy. Many had tried and all had died. Carla aimed to change that, if possible.

Yes, she had to admit that she was obsessed with the man, obsessed with his looks, his gentleness, his compassion that she knew he held despite what he was, otherwise he would have killed her the night he'd turned her. To Carla, Daray was like a drug that she could never get enough of and she acknowledged silently to herself that she was addicted fully. There had to be a way to get him away from Anise, a way to destroy one of the most powerful vampires imaginable, but how.

Oh hell! Was the first thought that ran through Daray's mind when he awoke to find himself tied, hands and feet to a wooden frame in the shape of a very large X. He glanced down, his frown deepening to find himself completely naked and he was hungry. Very, very hungry which told him that Anise had drank from him before he had regained consciousness.

Looking around, he realized that he was also no longer in the private chambers of the club and that absolutely nothing looked familiar. A sense of dread crept up his spine and yet, he still prayed for the death to take him out of Anise's control. Unfortunately, he knew too that what she had told him was true, she would not kill him, not until she was ready to end his life and after over one hundred years it seemed that that time was never going to come.

There were no windows for him to judge the time of day or night and from the cramps in his arms, he guessed he'd been placed here not too long after he had lost consciousness.

What were her plans for him? Daray questioned in silence. Did she plan on leaving him here for a few days, letting his blood lust grow? It wouldn't take long, the only feeding he had partaken had been from Carla and that had only been enough to enhance his climax, a trait Anise had instilled within him when she'd turned him.

He fought the images that flashed through his mind. The images of the turning so many years ago, of how many times she controlled his body and his mind with only her words. She was his creator and the only ways he could be freed of her hold upon him was through death. His or Anise's. Unfortunately, with that control came his inability to destroy his creator and that, in and of itself, was the most infuriating considering he had tried on several occasions only to end up... like he was at this very moment.

"Damn!" He growled into the silence.

The hours stretched on, Daray's arms were completely numb not even aware that the twisting, jerking and tugging had caused the ropes to cut into his flesh and he was losing what little precious blood he had. He rested as best he could, floating in and out of consciousness as the day or night wore on. It was during one lucid moment that he decided that leaving him here without the chance to feed was how she planned on punishing him. He could not have been more wrong.

When night came, after feeding voraciously Anise stood silently watching Daray sleep. His chin rested lightly upon his chest, which rose and fell in a shallow rhythm, a telling clue as to how weak he actually was. A small pang of guilt washed through her, but when she recalled his attack, her conviction to punish him came back strongly.

He was a magnificent creature, even after one hundred plus years under her control. A soft smile curled her bloodstained lips; she had chosen her mate well so long ago. His muscular frame was just as firm and rippled as the night she had taken him into her fold, into her bed and into her body and a shudder of need enveloped her as she continued to stare at him.

The moment he had entered the club and sat down beside her she knew he had been with the same woman twice. She could smell the bitch all over him and his clothing and jealousy clawed at her chest. Daray was her chosen mate and whomever this female was, she had just signed her own death warrant.

Anise silently glided across the floor, hand lifting to rake a long nail down the center of his torso and his head snapped up at the touch. Dazed, bloodlust filled eyes swirled until he could focus upon his visitor and she smiled up at him.

"Hello, lover." She stated in her sultry voice and he went rigid in alarm.

There were streaks of blood down both arms and down his sides from where he had tried to free himself. The sweet scent pulled at her senses and her tongue snaked out to moisten her suddenly dry lips.

"Kill me now, Anise." He growled low, unable to lift his voice much higher in his weakness.

"Never, Daray." She responded, moving closer, pressing her face against his rippled belly, inhaling a scent that only he possessed and her jealously surged when that scent mingled with that of the female he had taken earlier.

In a fit of anger she struck out, her steely fingernails raking a deep gash across his abdomen, yet he did not call out in pain. The only sound he emitted was a sharp hiss of breath and his eyes narrowed down at her dangerously.

"I will find the bitch who dares try to take you from me, Daray. I will find her and I will kill her in front of your eyes and there will be nothing you can do to stop me." She threatened and his fangs dropped, his feral growl sounding low in his chest making her laugh.

She leaned in again, lapping at the fresh source of his blood; another sign of his weakness was the wound was not healing as quickly as it should. Licking, lapping at the flow, she used her own saliva to seal the gash stopping the flow of blood, but she did not pull away.

"Anise... do not..." Daray snarled as her mouth moved lower, her face now even with his groin and close enough for him to feel her icy breath over his flesh.

"Ripen for me, Daray. I will take your sweet, sweet seed into my belly for it warms me like a blazing fire." She whispered softly and he gritted his teeth in an attempt to block out her voice, his fangs dug into the tender flesh of his lower lip until he could taste his own blood.

Her hands to his hips, sliding up and down his outer thighs, he knew what she intended and knowing there was nothing he could do in his current condition or situation to stop her.

"You know you like it when I take you in my mouth, Daray. Grow for me, my lover, my mate." She continued and chuckled softly as his cock quivered losing control of his own body because of her voice, her lure as always.

Her hands slid around, cupping his buttocks and jerking him forward just as she opened her mouth and sucked him inside. A roar of fury echoed inside the large chamber. With no gag reflex she took him in deep, nearly all the way to the hilt and dropping her fangs, she rode each side of his delicious cock back to the tip. He ripened almost instantly and the vibration of her laugh rocketed up his entire body. His hatred grew until he was consumed by it, pushing away all other thoughts, all other feelings, even the action of her mouth riding hungrily along his length.

Anise knew the moment he drew into himself, shutting out all other sensations except his hatred of her. She pulled to the enlarging head then used the suction of her mouth to draw him back and he barked out when his senses returned, jerking slightly back. One of her fangs razed his rigid flesh and he bit back another sharp hiss of breath, knowing the taste of his blood would drive her mad.

The suction increased, drawing out more blood that continued to fill him. One hand came back around his thigh to reach beneath, squeezing the filling sacs, urging him toward release. She hummed around him, again the vibration shooting up his body and the loathing settled in as he felt his hips start to rock. Anise took up the rhythm, drawing back, sinking down in opposition to his movements until she could feel him filling, the surge of his climax rising swiftly from the swollen sacs beneath until he exploded with a howl of blind fury.

He passed out before his climax ended and Anise pulled away, licking her lips, savoring the delicious flavor of his seed and blood. A few days spent like this, his bloodlust building would be sufficient and to add to his humiliation she would come to him each night after feeding and repeat her actions this night. And if she found the whore that dared attempt to lay claim to him, he would watch her die, just as he had watched his frail mother's life slip away so long ago.

With a soft chuckle, Anise leaned forward, pressing her lips to his still damp cock and leaving him unconscious she departed, believing he was safe from being found before she was ready to release him.

Daray was nearly mad with hunger the following day. He alternated between freezing cold and a raging fever. His muscles contracted and released, contracted and released, his entire body throbbed and ached until finally it ceased feeling anything at all.

He could make nothing out in the distance any longer, his vision clouded with his hunger and continuing weakness, most thoughts centering on keeping the madness at bay. Anise would laugh at him, hurt him and use him when she returned, just as she always had and for a fleeting moment he believed this time would be the time he gave in. He would fight her no longer, the decades of suffering, forced to remain without friends or company other than her own, all the humiliation she inflicted was becoming more and more difficult to struggle against. His dry, cracked lips moved, yet no coherent words passed as his mind formed the statement she wanted from him.

Say it, St. John... just say the words to her and your suffering stops. His mind screamed and again his lips moved with the simple statement.

"I... submit." The raspy words at last strained past his lips, echoing in the building, yet no one was there to hear them this time. His fading sanity rushed back in that split second and he sucked in what little air he could manage into his burning lungs.

Thank God... thank God... He mused silently and drifted back into unconsciousness.

When he had awakened once more to find himself still alone, Daray spent hours screaming, swearing and cursing until his lungs could no longer pull in enough oxygen to drive his voice. His belly was on fire, and it felt as if every vein in his body was shriveling beneath his flesh. He could only see in reddish shadows now, his bloodlust increasing with each passing moment. His heart slowed to a dangerously low level with the loss of blood and the need for fresh to keep it pumping and once again he prayed for death only to be refused once more.

So paralyzed in his fragile condition he did not hear the footsteps approaching or the hisses of words and gasps of surprise. His blurry eyes did catch the red shadows moving in his direction, but he could no longer focus and in his throat a gurgle of laughter choked off as at last the madness seemed to settle in and he believed that his prayers had finally been answered. Death was not a single entity, but from the shadows a group. At long last he could find peace and eternal sleep and he welcomed it with open arms. Literally.

Keeping to the shadows with their unconscious trophy the group of vampires moved through the city. They would be heralded with glory when they arrived for they all knew who this man was. Killing him before others would show the older, stronger vampires that they could be taken into their folds, rising to the top of the chain so to speak.

The blood upon his body was greedily lapped away once they had removed him from his diverted cross, the power they felt from just that little giving them even more bravado and strength to accomplish their task. By taking out Daray St. John, draining him of every last ounce of his power-enhancing blood they felt they could easily take on one of the most powerful and destroy her as well. They moved on through the night with gleeful chuckles of excitement.

Excited voices met her the moment Carla entered the warehouse after feeding and going to the park in an attempt to catch Daray again. The dawn was growing near, her fellow vampires should have been retiring to the darkest recesses of the massive structure, but too many milled about, excitement amid their masses.

"What's going on?" Carla demanded as she crossed to the biggest group and her heart shot up to her throat, her breathing stopped altogether at the sight that greeted her.

Lying upon the floor, a filthy rug covering his lower body was Daray. He was deathly pale, his lips a sickening blue. His wrists were raw, bleeding only slightly and down his arms and his sides were what looked to be traces of blood greedily licked at. He was very, very close to death from the looks of it and panic kicked in.

"Daray!" She cried and dropped to her knees beside him, both hands cupping his cool face.

"He's ours, bitch!" A young male vampire snarled, shoving his way through the gathered crowd.

"Yea, we found him all trussed up like a Christmas goose just waiting to be bled!" Another piped in.

"Do you know who this is?" Carla demanded, her eyes snapping up to the young pups.

"Do you think we're stupid? Of course we know who it is!" The first male barked in laughter.

"It's the all mighty Daray St. John. Not so all mighty right now though, is he?" Another joined in and Carla's anger mounted.

"Don't forget, you promised me I could fuck him before we killed him!" A female voice rang out.

"Yea, and from what I saw, all the rumors we've heard are true!" Another female announced, the laughter in her voice causing Carla's anger to rise to a dangerous level.

"You fools!" An older vampire stepped through the crowd.

"Do you realize what you have done? Anise will track him here, she will kill us all!" The elder added in alarm and a rush of worry filled the warehouse.

"He'll be dead long before she can home in on him, don't worry." One of the younger vamps that had brought Daray here shouted back with an ugly chuckle.

"I heard she can't track him if he's unconscious. All we have to do is drain him before he can wake up." Another of the group added to the melee.

"You stupid little idiot!" The elder snarled as she too dropped down to her knees on the other side of Daray's form.

"Drinking his blood would be like a beacon to Anise. If it's inside you she will find any and all who takes it and trust me, your death will be very, very painful and long lasting." She added, one gnarled hand lifting to stroke back a wayward lock of hair that had fallen over his forehead, almost reverently.

"What has he ever done to you to make you hate him?" Carla demanded vehemently, her eyes daring any one of them to take a step toward Daray and their silence was her answer. Nothing.

"He's dying, his wounds are not healing, and he needs nourishment." The elder woman stated in concern.

"Do you think Anise did this to him?" Carla asked, her attention now returning to the man on the cold concrete floor.

"As another form of her warped way of punishing him, yes." The elder answered, her bony fingers now moving down the side of Daray's face in a gentle caress.

"Do you know him, old one?" Carla could not help but ask at the other's concern and tearful blue eyes that were no longer bright lifted, a sad smile upon her lips.

"He is my son." She announced and the room fell silent in stunned astonishment.

"You're his... his mother?" Carla asked breathlessly and the old one nodded.

"T'was the night before his wedding. We were having a celebration when he went missing." The old woman began.

"I did not wish to alarm the revelers so I went in search of him. I found him alone, naked, and dead. The marks upon his throat told me what had happened and I knew that his turning was already taking place. I knew too that I could not return him home, that he could not be buried upon consecrated ground. If the colony discovered what he was going to turn into they would have destroyed him. I could not let that happen to him." The woman began to cry openly now, still caressing the beloved face of the man that was at one time had been human.

"I left him there, there was nothing I could do. When he awoke the bloodlust would have been upon him and it would have devastated him afterward to know he had killed me during his need."

"When I returned with a friend to remove his body, he was gone. I intended to bury him on consecrated ground anyway, amid the graves of my own kin so that he could not arise again, but Anise had returned and taken him as her mate. Madness of my son's death, of what he had been turned into forced me to turn my back on the rest of my family, on my friends and I sought only to find him as he was my only son, my pride and joy." She paused as her cries choked off her words for a few moments of intense silence.

"I did find him eventually as you might guess." She continued once she had regained her composure.

"Anise was punishing him for something. He begged me to leave him, to get away before she returned and found me with him, but I could not. I could not leave my son again. He had been whipped. His back was raw, bloody whelps, but healing even as we spoke and although he did not tell me of other times I knew simply from the look in his eyes that he had suffered at her hands."

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