Blood Rose Ch. 01

And in another world, that's precisely what she'd be, Dorian thought as her lips came up off the head of his rod with a loud pop. He relaxed deeper into the couch as she began beating his cock against her tongue, and looked up at him and laughed as she did this before taking it back into her mouth. He imagined how things would have been different for her had she not had her encounter with a bunch of vampires that night last year.

Dorian had met Jade at a Rob Zombie concert; Dorian and the team he had at that time were, of course, hunting vampires. Jade was just there for the music, along with her leather-and-metal clad buddies. A group of bloodsuckers had happened upon them, invited them to sneak backstage for some fun, and mayhem ensued. Dorian and his team showed up and killed a few of the vamps while chasing the others away, but not before they'd succeeded in killing all of Jade's friends and leaving her with a bite herself. The team had given her an antidote before the change could take hold, and she'd been hunting with them ever since.

If he'd learned anything about her since then, it was that she liked it rough, and when she wanted it she wanted it now. And now, when she was done bobbing her green-topped head up and down on his shaft, she wanted it now. She stood up, turned around, and seated herself down on his lap. When Dorian's upright staff pierced her, he heard a low bestial growl come from her. And almost right away, her demonstration of the fact that she liked it rough began. She went into a heavy bouncing frenzy, with f-bombs repeatedly exploding from her mouth. Dorian grabbed hold of her sumptuous ass, giving it a good slap as it repeatedly slammed down on him. The response was an instant, feral squeal.

After she had been continuously bouncing for a few minutes, he took hold of her hips and stood up from the couch, not once pulling out of her. She lowered herself down on her hands on knees on the couch, while he stood on his knees behind her. Now it was his turn to be in control. "Oh, fuck yeah, fuck my fuckin' pussy, you fucker!" He pounded her hard, giving her ass another good slap.

She continued bombarding him with f-bombs, ultimately shouting, "Stick that fuckin' cock in my ass!" Dorian knew better than to argue with Jade about things like that, so he pulled out of her pussy, wiped some of the juices that were gushing from her around her puckered little hole, and slid himself into her back entrance. She growled like an angry dog and screamed "Fuck yeah!" Dorian moved as best he could in and out of that tight, hot vice, pounding her hard, eliciting all the profanity Jade was capable of, until he could hold back no more, pulled out, and decorated her ass with white ooze.

Thus spent, Dorian collapsed onto the couch. Jade picked up a tissue to clean the goop off her ass, then proceeded to take a cigarette. She offered him one before lighting hers, and he accepted, taking the lighter when she was done with it. It wasn't for the typical reason of relaxing after sex. He took it because it helped to calm his thoughts. The moment of pleasure was over; now it was time to brood again.

There was nothing to be particularly happy about tonight anyway; tonight's hunt had been a bust. They'd found no vampires, and hence killed no vampires. Spotting a vampire who wasn't doing anything particularly vampiric was a difficult task, and it took years of experience to tell one apart from an ordinary human at first glance. Somebody like Jade couldn't spot a vampire until she saw a pair of fangs, but Dorian and a few others on the team, like Ethan and Kaeli, who had been doing this for at least the last ten years, knew how to spot one out of a crowd. Tonight had been one of those nights when they'd spotted nothing. Oh well, tomorrow's another day...

Except there were still more of them crawling around out there, and he had missed a chance to rip their fucking heads off! He was all pent up, which was probably why he'd done what he'd just done with Jade. As he pulled his pants on he looked over at Jade, who'd already gotten back into her studded leather clothes and was just hanging idly around with a burning cigarette in her fingers. They weren't trying to find comfort in each other's arms or anything; he felt absolutely nothing for Jade, any more than she felt anything for him. They did it because they wanted to, and that was that.

There was no room for love in a hunter's life. In their line of work, sex was something you had because you never knew when, or if, you would get another chance. When you spent every night looking for monsters that were so much stronger, and more adept at killing than you, you had to face the reality that any night could be your last. Caring about people just set you up for heartbreak.

And wasn't that how you got yourself into this business in first place?

An image of Melissa flashed across his mind. He shoved it away. If he had learned anything over the past twelve years, he had learned that it did not do to dwell on memories. Staying in the now was the only way he could expect to survive.

Jade finished her cigarette quickly, and shoved the butt into the ashtray and headed for the door. "You going home?" Dorian said.

"Got a right to sleep in my own bed don't I?"

"Just thought I'd ask," said Dorian, taking another drag. "Just remember to keep your windows—"

"My windows up and my doors locked and blah blah blah, I know the drill. Don't worry, I'm still keeping a nine-millimeter and a dagger in my glove box and a box-full of weapons at home, I'm prepared. Getting bit once was fuckin' enough for me, I don't plan on repeating it."

"Fair enough. Good night." With that Jade left without another word.

On the subject of sleep, it was late now, and he should probably be thinking about getting some himself. He should; it didn't mean he was going to, whether he went to bed now or not. Hunts that produced no results always seemed to make an insomniac out of him. It was harder to sleep knowing that there were vampires out there he could have killed tonight, that were probably draining some poor soul dry right now because he didn't.

He took a breath—or a drag, rather—and calmly reminded himself that he was only human; he was just a hunter, not a superhero. There were always some people out there he couldn't save.

Funny how I always try to tell myself that as if it's going to make me feel better.

Dorian got up, put out what was left of his cigarette, and headed off to his bedroom. He'd find out in the morning who was out there that he didn't save.

***

Elizabeth crashed onto her bed and stared up at the ceiling as if it weren't there. To put it mildly, her trip home had been interesting. Hell, her head was still spinning about it. Mom and Dad had evidently noticed that something was on her mind, but they'd been her parents long enough to chalk it up to school or boy trouble. Of course human parents would have asked if she was on marijuana or something; as it was, hers just let it slide for now. And she certainly preferred it that way. She certainly wasn't leaping with excitement to tell them that she'd killed someone on the way home.

And she was definitely in no hurry to tell them about Annabelle. That was the big one.

Strange, she thought, that she was more concerned about Annabelle than about the fact that she had taken a life. Of course, being a vampire meant that an occasional human death was something you had to face sometimes, but that didn't mean it should be taken lightly. Shouldn't she feel a little worse about what she did?

Then again, why should I feel anything at all? The world's probably better off without that scum anyway! Hell, I did the world a favor by sucking him dry!

Surely her parents would agree with that, wouldn't they? Anthony had done the same thing to them that he'd done to her; they understood the thirst for blood as much as she did, and they certainly had some blood on their own hands. Wouldn't they be hypocrites if they scolded her for it? Still, she decided it would be best to keep it from them.

On that note, her thoughts turned again to Annabelle, and again she thought of how peculiar it was that her encounter with her felt like more of a taboo than the dead human. What was it about Annabelle she was so afraid of? Why was she afraid of letting her parents know she'd met someone? And what about Annabelle's weird offer? That part just didn't make any sense at all...

No, that wasn't right. She still didn't know what it meant, but it would be a lie to say that the offer didn't make some kind of sense. She just hadn't figured out what that kind of sense was.

So many questions, none of which would have easy answers. Maybe it would be best not to think about them right now, and just relax. She found she was feeling another kind of need right now, and one she certainly knew how to respond to. Chances were, it might help to calm her nerves a little bit. She slid her hand down into her denim skirt and allowed herself to slip away into the familiar pleasures of her clit. For a moment she laughed inwardly at herself, remembering when she'd first discovered the pleasures that came from that little spot between her legs. She'd been barely thirteen, only having been changed into a vampire very recently, and for a while she'd thought these pleasures had been something that came with the transformation. A comical notion now that she was older and wiser, but still worth a laugh remembering now and then.

Her eyes slowly closed as her fingers moved back and forth over the little pea-shaped nub. She let her mind drift, conjuring up another image of Nathaniel standing over her. His beautifully built body was uncovered for her viewing pleasure, and his ten inches of dick was standing and ready to pierce her. To deflower her. She was ready for him. Impulsively, her legs spread apart, and her free hand cupped itself around her breast through the fabric of her shirt and bra, and began to squeeze. She could just imagine his huge weapon sliding into her, opening the folds of her pussy... her tongue ran itself over her lips, savoring the delicious moment.

Then suddenly she saw a feminine pair of hands appear on Nathaniel's shoulders from behind, and a face that belonged to Annabelle peeked around from behind his head. "Do you like it?"

Elizabeth's eyes snapped open and she sat bolt upright. The mysterious woman she'd met tonight had invaded her sexual fantasies. How the hell did that happen?

Elizabeth shuddered, and decided she needed a shower. So she got up and walked into the bathroom, stripped off her clothes and hit the hot water.

She stood there a while, her eyes shut, savoring the warm, soothing patter of water on her. She picked up the soap and began running it over her body like she always did. She hadn't realized until now just how desperately she did need this. But there was something else she needed too, and she had cut herself short of satisfying it. Almost without her consent, her hand again drifted down between her legs.

"I can show you sensations you've never even dreamed of."

Her eyes remaining closed, an image of Annabelle's face flashed before them. Her wise and lovely smile. And those eyes. Those incredible emerald eyes that you just couldn't look away from. And suddenly the fingers that were massaging her clit began to work harder, faster.

"...ways to make you feel truly alive..."

Elizabeth started breathing harder. Her heart began accelerating the same way it had when Annabelle stood before her. As she ran the soap over her breasts, she felt how hard her heart was pounding against her chest. Her nipples were standing on end. A soft moan escaped her lips.

"...pleasures..."

She wasn't sure at what point the soap slipped out of her grip, because for the moment she'd forgotten the soap even existed. She was now fervently squeezing her tit with one hand and rubbing her clit with the other. Her head rolled back, her eyes still shut. What had started as a low moan was steadily escalating into sharp cries.

Annabelle's face appeared again.

"Do you know what you want?"

"Yes!" That was equally in response to Annabelle's question as in response to her own approaching orgasm. In a matter of seconds later, it came. Her eyes finally opened when it did, accompanying her loud squeal. She stood there a moment, gasping and convulsing, attempting to get a hold of her senses.

She was alone, wasn't she? There was nobody else in this bathroom with her. Annabelle was certainly not here. And yet, she had been talking to her. Or had she? True, she hadn't actually heard those words just now. Not with her ears anyway. They had been in her head. But they didn't feel at all like they were coming from her. It was like Annabelle's words were completely skipping her ears and going straight to her head.

"Do you know what you want?"

In a moment of ecstasy, Elizabeth had said yes. Now she wasn't sure. She wasn't sure at all. But maybe there was a way to find out. Maybe Annabelle could help her find some answers. She decided she would go check out the address Annabelle had given her on the way home from school tomorrow night. Just to get a sense of what Annabelle was really about. What could it hurt?

***

Ten or twelve years ago, when this sort of thing happened, Dorian's general reaction would have been to grab something heavy and throw it across the room. But having repeatedly dealt with this situation in the twelve years since he became a hunter had mellowed him to it somewhat; now he would just frown and take another drag on his cigarette. It still made his blood burn, though.

He'd been out looking for them, and still they managed to get someone.

The police had identified the victim as Eric Torrence, 28, found on the side of 7th Avenue at approximately 2 am. Police reported double neck wounds and severe loss of blood, while very little blood was found at the crime scene. Definitely a vampire's work. A motorcycle registered in his name was parked a short distance away. A switchblade was found in the victim's hand, but no blood was on the blade at all.

Dorian could already see the whole scenario playing out: The guy stops his motorcycle to inspect it, the vampire comes along and attacks him, the guy takes out his blade to try to defend himself, but the vampire's too fast, and the guy gets sucked dry. The kind of thing that happened way more often than most people would care to know about. All he could do now was scowl about it, and blow out another breath of smoke.

"Sorry Dorian," said Keith. It was the same thing he always said when this happened; it was all anybody could say. It never made things better.

Smoke from the two men's cigarettes was steadily clouding the ceiling of Keith's office. Keith, as chance would have it, just happened to be a detective, working secretly as a hunter by night. This provided them with some useful insights as to where vampires had been and where they were likely to be found. Keith was African-American, with a beard that was just starting to turn a little gray. At 42, Keith was the only hunter on Dorian's team who was actually older than Dorian himself.

That didn't necessarily mean he was the teammate for whom Dorian had the most respect; he was a useful ally, and possibly even a friend, but the life of a hunter didn't really mean as much to him as it did to some of the others, Dorian included. This probably had to do with the fact that he hadn't lost anyone important to him to vampire attacks the way most hunters had. He'd gotten into hunting after stumbling upon a scene of a victim being killed by a vampire, and decided he wanted to do something about it. Certainly a good enough reason, but when the battle wasn't personal, his heart wasn't in it quite as deeply as it could be.

"Yeah, everybody's sorry," Dorian muttered.

"Well, we'll be out again tonight, we just might bag the suckhead that did this," Keith shrugged.

Dorian scowled. "I'm tired of 'we just might.' Honestly, Keith, how many more people have to die like this?"

"What do you want to do about it? You know we're just doing our part to fight a battle we can never really win. Is the world gonna run out of vampires? There's still just too many out there for us to deal with them all."

Dorian's scowl deepened. Some little part of him had always known that what Keith was saying was true. He just never wanted to believe it. He couldn't accept the idea that humanity would never win this war. People had hunted plenty of other species to the brink of extinction; why were vampires so different?

"That's not true!" he declared. "There's got to be a limit to how many of those monsters there can be, and sooner or later we will get them all!"

"Well what do you expect us to do?"

Dorian paused on a moment, chewing on Keith's simple, yet infinitely profound question. At last, he gave an answer that was even simpler, yet twice as profound: "More." Off Keith's look, he continued, "It's as simple as that: we do more. I think the reason we didn't catch any vamps last night was because we gave up too soon. We stay out longer, we expand our search parameters, and we don't go home until we kill something!"

Keith looked unsettled. Probably to be expected from someone who didn't have any personal reasons to fight. Ultimately, Keith stood up and said, "Dorian, I know how serious you are about this, but you've got to remember I have a life and a family to think about—"

"So think about them!" Dorian cut him off. "Think about what would happen if a vampire found one of them! Every bloodsucker that slips by us only increases the risk of that happening! I'd think for their sakes you'd be as devoted to this as I am!"

Dorian could see him chewing on this; Keith, the only hunter he knew who had a family at all, which gave him an ideal source of incentive to see things Dorian's way. "All right, Dorian, I'll stay out two hours longer, but that's my limit."

Dorian struggled to smile at Keith's half-hearted compliance. As much as he liked to think of himself as a fair and righteous man, Dorian just didn't like compromise.

***

Elizabeth stood transfixed, not quite sure how to grasp what she was seeing. Based on what Annabelle had been wearing last night, she expected her home to be a simple suburban house, or any kind of home the common vampire would dwell in. She certainly hadn't been expecting a massive, elegant mansion.

A decorative iron fence surrounded the front of the house, with a gate positioned in the middle which Elizabeth was now looking through. The central section of the house stood three stories tall, with two-story wings branching off from the sides. The trip from the gate to the front door was, put simply, a long one, which involved passing through a gorgeous courtyard dominated by a huge fountain with a pair of prancing horse statues.

As she gazed upon the beautiful, yet somehow intimidating, estate, Elizabeth realized she had actually heard of this place before. This was one of the local urban legends; the unnamed haunted house just outside of town, supposedly inhabited by some sort of ghosts or monsters. Or vampires, Elizabeth thought whimsically.

Of course, she was having trouble picturing a haunted house having a voice intercom box posted on the front gate, which implied to her that nobody had gotten this close to inspect it in a while. She stepped up to it and pushed the button, receiving a mild buzz as a response. Moments later, a feminine voice with a thick southern accent that clearly did not belong to Annabelle spoke through it: "Hello? Who's knockin'?"

"Uh... my name's Elizabeth, I'm here for Annabelle?"

The girl on the other end chuckled. "Honey, ain't that who we all here for. C'mon in, Ah'll give her a holler."