Keegan and Flanna Ch. 02

Ann, Agatha and Michael had been sent to country, when Michael was just a babe of a few hours. Ann had been living at the abbey with other unwed mother's and though she had sinned, she was still welcomed into the church and after the birth of her child she served her Lord and lived by his commandments.

Her daughter had passed away a few years after her birth; a plague had descended upon the village that Ann and Agatha lived near and it had entered their home. Agatha had passed a few weeks after Ann's child, leaving the young woman and the young boy child alone to fend for themselves.

The dreams started shortly after that. An angel would appear to her and tell her how caring for Michael was her destiny and when he came to her she was to let him go. She had cursed the being, begged for him to leave her son alone, for that was how she saw him. Michael was her son and she loved him dearly. The church continued to provide Ann with a small allowance and when winters were harsh, their always seemed to be flour and milk at their disposal. Ann often related their unlimited resources to the story of how God provided fish and bread for the masses.

Now she felt the being was closing in and it would be this morning that her young son did not return to her. Ann closed her eyes and said a prayer. A few hours passed and during that time she packed up what little belongings she owned and began the walk that would take her back to the church she'd left twenty years ago. She had done her job and was finally going home.

Gabriel watched from the treetops as Ann left. He knew this place would one day serve as another's sanctuary, but he would not be around to see that. He looked up to Heaven and rose to his feet. His wings extended and he left Earth. He had watched over the child and now it was up to Michael to live out his destiny. Gabriel just hoped the young man was strong enough.

Michael walked to the village, his mind wavering between the succulent taste of Ann's rolls and the list of supplies he would be bringing back to her. He wanted to hurry. Her moods had been more melancholy and he didn't like the idea of leaving her alone. She had started talking again, about vampires and evil and his destiny as a hunter. He had listened to her stories as a child and was enthralled with them. Now as a man, he wondered why she had begun telling them again. She had stopped when he reached the age of twelve, after he had repeatedly told her the stories were not true and he wished to not hear of them again.

He loved Ann and hated to see her mind going. At thirty-eight she was still a beautiful woman, but she had sworn no man would ever be a part of her life, but that of Michael and her God. A sense of uneasiness filled him and he quickened his step.

"Hey now," a voice called out and stepped in front of Michael, blocking his path.

Michael stopped and looked at the figure in front of him. The crooked teeth and oily hair added to the wretched stench that wafted from the man. "Good day Sir," Michael said, nodding his head and stepping off the path to go around the vagrant.

The toothy grin sent a chill down Michael's spine as did the chuckle. "You are a pretty lad. I bet I could get an extra coin for you."

"Let me pass, Sir."

Another man appeared from behind Michael and his eyes raked over the young blonde's form. "Aye Master and Mistress would find him a good catch."

"That be what I'm thinkin'" the first man stated and then spit a glob of black goo from his rotted teeth.

Michael's fists curled and he shuffled on his feet. He had heard the rumors that people were being "sold" and more and more were disappearing each quarter. His eyes narrowed in on the two men and he took stock of his opponents. The first attack came from the man with the vile smell radiating from him. He lunged at Michael and was met with a solid fist to his right jaw. Michael then felt the sting of a club come down on his back. He fell to his knees, but quickly rolled, ignoring the pain that coursed through him.

The other man reached up to club Michael again, but was deterred when his prey swept out his legs, catching him off balance and leaving him laying on his back. By this time the first kidnapper had recovered and once again launched himself at Michael. As Michael was in the process of standing, the air in his lungs were forced free when he was tackled to the path's hard ground. He landed hard; his forearm landing awkwardly, the snap of the bone ricochet throughout his system and he howled in pain.

The first attacker reached out for Michael; he shoved back with his good arm, sending the smelly beast tumbling a few feet away. The second man no longer dazed by the unexpected fall, lifted his club once more and brought it down on Michael's obscenely disfigured limp. Michael's eyes rolled to the back of his head, the pain was intense and brought with it a wave of nausea. He never saw the club again as it connected to his jaw, sending another crack into the air and a blanket of darkness over his senses.

It was several hours later that Michael awoke. His head pounded and his whole body ached. He opened a swollen eye, the tears that poured from him stung the cuts on his face. He tried to focus on his surroundings, but was unable to see much of anything. When he tried to speak, to his horror his mouth refused to open. It was then a woman walked in front of him and kneeled down next to him.

"He'll not fetch us much coin looking like this. You fools," she spit and then stood up and walked away. A sound came from his left and he glanced as best he could in order to see who was entering the small dwelling.

"You sent me a message," the woman's voice filled the air.

"Aye Mistress. We have a fresh one fer you and the Master."

Flanna walked forward and stared down at the young man. His body was broken and bloody, but she looked past that. She saw inside him and smiled. He was a prime catch. His figure brawny and firm. He would serve their family well. They needed several mortals to make their travels over the sea and though he was broken, he only needed to be held still while they fed from him. "I will give you the agreed upon coin."

The group of vagrants smiled. The woman held out her palm and waited to be paid.

"I need him delivered to the ship. I will pay you there."

The two men grumbled, but she ignored them, lifting her hand for silence. "My family and I leave this night and you will have your payment then. If you bring others, you will be rewarded. If not," she shrugged, "then we'll settle our business."

She left the room and the scent of death left with her, though only Michael sensed it. The smell that replaced her was none other than the man who had blocked his path and was now staring at him. "Me Lady wife had to doctor you up some. Your jaw's cracked, but the swelling will go down and then you can open it. Not that it will matter though, you'll be over the seas when you can finally speak your mind. Your arm be set too. We didn't want to present a completely broken man to her Ladyship. She pays good coin."

Michael stared at the man and if he could have he would have spit at his disgusting features. The thought of being taken to the woman and her family filled him with dread and a sense of fear washed over him. When night fell, he was pulled up by the two men and dragged outside. There he saw a cart that he was immediately tossed into. He landed on his broken arm, its wooden stripes of Hawthorn barely sheltered the fragile bone that had been set.

The two men climbed in beside him and the woman drove the cart down the dirt path that served as a road. Her mule was steady and after what Michael assumed had been a couple of hours, they reached the coastline. His eyes grew wide as the moonlight lit up the scene before him. The woman who had come to see him earlier stood on the shore, waiting for her purchase. A man wearing a black cloak stood beside her, his eyes seemed to glow with a red tint.

Keegan watched the small group approach them. When they stopped he eyed the young man that was barely conscious in the back of the cart. "My mate told me he was damaged, but she offered to pay you full coin for him."

"Aye, she did. We'll be taking payment now," the grimiest of the group spoke up.

Keegan smirked. "But of course. You have provided well for us over the last few months as we prepared for our travel. You will be rewarded." He stepped back and swept his hand toward Flanna. "My Lady wife has a gift for you, to thank you for your loyalty to my family."

The two men eyed the woman and watched in shock as the beautiful redhead slowly began to disrobe. As she did, her lips opened and words poured forth. Her song was enchanting. The melody played on their hearts and minds; it toyed with their souls. They eased off the cart and walked toward her. Their fingers fumbled with their clothing. The woman watched in confusion. Her ears heard the woman's melody, but it was nothing but words to her. The two men, her sons by birth acted as if they were in a trance. She eyed the Master and asked him what spell his woman had cast upon her sons' minds.

Keegan jumped quickly to the cart's bench and slid his hand around the woman's neck. "Watch and listen. Your family has been loyal to mine, but we also need to feed before we leave. We can not leave you behind to tell of where the others have gone. Soon someone would pay you enough coin to speak of us. He held her tightly in his grasp and lowered his mouth to the pulse that beat in her neck. His eyes locked with those of the man in the cart, who was unable to move due to his injuries and the trance that Flanna had placed on him. No mortal man that heard her voice was resistant to it. If the injuries were not so severe Michael would have walked to the temptress with the voice of an angel.

He could not though, but what Michael did see was enough to bring a chill to his heart. He watched the man's teeth grow and then penetrate the woman's skin. He saw the smile of satisfaction wash over the vampire's face and his ears listened to her beg for her sons to not listen to the woman.

Flanna continued to purr out a song that kept the men entranced.

"She is beautiful," one said, his voice a husky whisper. He pulled his grimy shirt off.

"My heart weeps for her," the other answered back. He tore off his boots and fell to his knees to worship at her feet. "May I? May I taste you Mistress?" he begged.

Flanna smiled and trailed a talon down his cheek. His blood beaded up and slipped down his face, the cut never felt by her victim. I am here for you to taste, am I not?" She sat down on her knees and ran her tongue over his bloody cheek.

The other man came forward. His erection stood proud. "I wish to feed you, my beautiful one."

Flanna's fingers wrapped around his cock and she turned her head to look at the short, fat member. Her smile was worth a million pounds, or so the men believed it to be. She gripped him tighter, letting her talons pierce his shaft. The droplets of blood appeared and she took his sex into her mouth. She sucked from his wounds, drinking his life force and filling her belly grow warm as did her flesh.

She alternated her devouring of the two men. Sometimes piercing one with a talon while she drank from the other. Most times she slashed her talons down their bodies and lathered them with her mouth. Soon she was like the animal, many believed her to be and she released the spell of charm and held them with the power of her mind instead. Here they felt every swipe of her sharp weapons and screamed for mercy. She washed herself in their crimson fluid until their bodies beat no more. She licked at their flesh and then turned to gaze at her mate.

Keegan tossed the bloodless figure he'd drained and jumped down from the cart. He crossed the sand and gathered his mate into his arms. He sucked the blood of the men from her tongue and she shared the flavor of the woman from his. They had a long standing agreement to wash away the taste of mortals from each others palates and so they enjoyed the dance their tongues performed.

Michael felt the presence of evil surround him and his mind cleared of the woman's beautiful words. He shivered as the cold ocean air touched his skin. Soon the man returned and Michael was lifted as if he were nothing but a wee babe. He was carried to a small boat and unceremoniously dropped into it. Again the pain of his broken arms as well as what he was beginning to believe were several broken ribs or at least cracked ones, threatened to consume him. He watched the woman shift into the winged bird of a black raven and disappear into the night. The man shifted too, but before he did, two others came forth and stepped into the boat. Keegan flew into the night leaving his servants to row the mortal to the large ship that was full of his family and their precious cargo.

~ ~ ~ ~ ~

Duana watched over the weaker mortals. Her thoughts never resting to long on one being. She had been told that what they were doing was needed, but still it did not rest easy on her. Her eyes moved to her mortal slave, a young woman named Rachel. Rachel had been brought to Duana when she was a young girl of twelve. The two became friends. When Rachel was told she could stay and live with Duana, if she agreed to certain conditions, Duana found herself learning more about the true character of the people her parents saw only as food.

Rachel had agreed and much was revealed to her. Rachel at first was frightened, but Duana took only small samples of her companions life. Rachel eventually learned to accept the life and knew it was better than the life she had abandoned. Her parents had died, her brothers and sisters too. She had been on the verge of death when she stumbled upon the traveler's and their two children. They took her in and cared for her. They became the family she had lost, so it was only natural for her to stay with her best friend. Duana she cared for, Keegan, Flanna and Lawler, also called Law, she could have done without. They were not kind in their draining of others. Duana took only enough to survive and even then she did it so quickly one barely noticed the tear or bite.

Both women jumped at the sound of the mortal called Michael's bellowing. "I will go," Rachel groaned and moved from the cot she'd been laying on. She heard the whispered "No" enter her mind and she lay back down.

"You have done enough today. You look pale and I wish you to rest. I will see what His Majesty seeks," Duana muttered and made her way to the most annoying man on the ship. She wasn't sure why her parents had not drained him first. He had been the most to complain.

"What now?" she asked him, not hiding her annoyance.

"I want fresh air," Michael demanded. He had been held up in the bowels of this ship and wanted to know what was going on. His shouts for answers never produced fruit and he was growing more restless. "I am well enough to move now. Twas only my arm and a few ribs, not my legs."

"Your jaw was swollen like a boulder when you arrived," she raised a brow, "Tis a pity it didn't stay that way. You were more agreeable then."

He glared at her. He didn't understand what the beautiful woman with the jet black hair was doing on board this ship of death, but he did know she was a willing slave as was the other one known to him as Rachel.

Both women were of the same age and had a bond that he envied. During the weeks he'd been healing he'd learned little of the ship or its occupants. Even now there were only a handful of injured or sick on board the vessel with him, the rest, once they were healed he never saw them again. The image of Keegan draining the life of the woman on the cart returned to him and he knew in time that would be his fate.

"You won't be like them," she told him as she bathed his body with a wet sponge.

"What?" he asked her, not understanding what she had meant.

"Your life. You are not going to be used and tossed over the side of the ship."

"How did you know what I was thinking?" Michael asked. His free hand came up and grabbed her wrists. He stared at her and waited for her answer. Her eyes bore into his and then he felt it. The pressure was soft. If one did not concentrate on the sensation then it would be missed. "You read my thoughts?" His answer came to her in a gentle whisper.

He dropped her wrist and pushed her away. "You are one of them then aren't you? The spawns of Satan that will eat the flesh of the living."

Duana blinked at his fury and realized why her mother often used her voice to calm her victims. She thought of doing that now, but chose not to. Michael would calm, in time, or so she thought.

"My father senses something in you. Your blood is richer than any he or mother has tasted and very strong. He has deemed you worthy of serving him and mother. Willingly or not."

Michael cursed and rose from the bed. Vertigo over took him and he fell back down. "Willingly offer my blood to keep... your parents? Those animals are your parents?"

Duana lifted her arm to slap him for the disrespectful names he had used in reference to her linage. He grabbed her arm and pushed her away from him, this time when he stood, he did not stumble.

Rachel came forth, crying out for her Mistress' mother. Within seconds the winged bird was in the room and shifting to the Goddess Michael had seen once before.

"Our pet is awake," she said. Her voice was full of venom. "Are you harmed?" she asked her daughter.

"No, he wishes to go topside," Duana told her mother. Her eyes holding with Michael's.

A sense of Duana pleading for him to cooperate washed over him. He turned his gaze to the woman and nodded his head. "I wish to walk in the breeze and see what manner of ship I am on."

"That can be arranged. You will do as my daughter suggests and cooperate?"

"Yes. . . for now."

Flanna laughed and turned to Duana. "You are pale my dear," she looked to Rachel, "do not allow her to weaken herself, especially in this one's presence."

"Yes Mistress," Rachel said and walked over to Duana.

Duana's face contorted at the thought of doing this in front of the man that she could sense did not like her or her kind, but to deny her mother's wish was not an option. She lifted Rachel's arm and made a quick cut into the skin. The blood pooled and Duana began the slow lapping of her companion's arm. When she felt the satisfied thoughts of her mother descend upon her, she released Rachel's arm and led her back to the bed. "I am sorry," she whispered.

"Go Duana, I will be well. I do agree with you though, I am feeling weak."

That admission filled Duana with dread and she tried to ease her discomfort by seeking out the thoughts of the man who had watched her suckle the blood of her friend. "I am humane in my quest for life," she told him silently when she read his disgust.

Flanna watched the interaction and she too felt the tension in her daughter and the frailty of young Rachel. "Come we will let Michael walk and allow his questions to be answered. After all he will be with us for a long time."

The three left the small room and took the steps that led to the deck. Michael breathed in the sea air and felt the it wash over his face. "Thank you," his whispered thought traveled to Duana. She blinked rapidly and felt her blush rise.

They walked toward the figure whose black cloak flapped in the breeze. Michael knew who the man was before he turned around. When he did their eyes met and a sense of pure evil filled Michael's senses. He was taken back by the jolt, but it was too late, the vampires had felt it.

Keegan stepped forward and studied the young man. "Who are your parents?"

"My parents?" The question had certainly caught Michael off guard, but he answered honestly. "My mother and father are both dead Sir, they died shortly after my birth."