Made in Death's Image

"Is your brother dead?" she then asked, still treading lightly for fear of chasing him away.

He paused, but only for a moment, "Yes."

He continued to wash his plate over and over again. A heavy silence fell over them. Grace bit her lip for a moment, silently reflecting and scolding herself for not figuring it out from the night prior. He was a human, she reminded herself, humans took their entire lives dealing with their emotions. With vampires, it took only a few human life spans to get rid of their own emotions.

Without thinking Grace said something, "We should move to a different safe house tonight," Grace was too deep in now, "The vampires who are after you, I'm sure they already know you're here- if they haven't figured it out they soon will. They won't attack in the sunlight, but they will as soon as the sun sets. We'll leave just before evening."

"Where?" Michael asked, turning off the tap. The tone is still dead as it leaves his mouth.

Grace pondered for a few moments, it was false however- she knew right where to take him, "Queens. There's a place there I'd like to take you too."

"The safe house?" Michael asked, turning from the sink and leaning against it. He crossed his strong arms.

Grace eyed the blood vessels as they popped and the strength in his arms made her stir with many kinds of hunger, "No, a market. I'm sure you'll find some new foods to try there."

He raised an eyebrow in confusion, "You want to take me to a flea market to try street food? In Queens? While vampires are trying to hunt me?"

Grace scoffed at his reaction, "when you put it that way- The market... it's a special place. You'll be safe there, I promise you'll enjoy yourself, trust me?"

Michael paused for a moment before smiling gently, "Alright. What time do we leave?"

"In a few hours. For now, I'm going to get a new car. Something inconspicuous, sadly, no more modern cars. Perhaps a minivan," she made a comedic sour face at the mention of the minivan and Michael met her with a soft chuckle, "Or not. I'd rather die, all over again. I'll get us something nice, do not worry."

Michael rolled his eyes, "You're something else. Like no woman I've ever met."

"Of course not," she teased, flashing her fangs, "All the other women weren't the undead."

NINE

Sure enough, she sat in her new car, an old Chevy. It didn't lack character but it certainly was not her speed. However, instead of driving back to the house right away, she drove down to the pier. Sitting on the driver's side, her eyes looking towards the island. No human could see the castle from this distance in the accuracy she could. From where she sat, she could see the outline of the castle, and yet again memories came flashing back to her.

From when she first met Codrin...

Slowly, she walked over to him. Her fingers dug into the crimson gown she wore as she stood in front of the man. His eyes danced over her body but made no move to touch her. Instead, he just looked her up and down. She felt small under his gaze. Like she wasn't even worth undressing until she proved herself.

"Are you a virgin?" he then asked. His gaze paused over her crotch. It's as if he could see her past. She felt painfully exposed despite being fully clothed.

For a moment, Gracelyn debated lying. This man most likely wanted a virgin, that's why Mary forbade her from having sexual encounters with the other clients until she realized Grace was tarnished goods: Gracelyn also knew this man might hurt her if she lied. Perhaps worse.

"What do you want to hear?" she instead asked, a clever work around, to Codrin's surprise

Codrin paused, a smirk on his thin lips, "Do you think I'll hurt you if you tell me the wrong answer? Perhaps you think I'll kill you in a fit of rage."

"The mention of you to Mary and she becomes a darker person," Gracelyn replied, "Therefore, you scare her. Which means, your rage must be much worse than hers."

The man laughed, making Gracelyn flinch. It boomed like a war horn if she ever heard one. It was an odd noise coming from his mouth.

"You're right," he said, leaning forward and saying gently in his hoarse voice, "My rage is much worse."

A cold shiver went down her spine, but she held back the tears that seemed to almost be forcibly wrenched from her eyes. Gracelyn wasn't stupid by any means. By now she knew pain and trauma well and she wondered why death had yet to claim her. Perhaps reckless, but with so many near death experiences, she was ready for the moment death claimed her. And, now that Death himself sat in front of her, Gracelyn knew death wished for pleasure- for her.

Perhaps, she could cheat death again today.

"So, how would one calm such a rage," Gracelyn replied, her eyes half opened in a seductive look as she bit her lip like the other women of the night had done to all their customers, how she learned to do to the few of her own.

By now, Codrin was very amused by the human girl. He came by the brothel once every few months, when Mary had new whores and time to properly train a lady. He indulged his taste, he enjoyed the most fragile and gentle of women. That blood was always sweet and had the tang of youth. Unfortunately, all the humans were just that- food and a sleeve. Most on sight of him began to scream and cry. Some lasted until after the sex. None lasted after the feeding.

This woman however, sparked something inside him. She was young but by no means fresh and gentle. He could smell fear and courage.

"Very well," he said, desire swirling around inside him, "Attempt to calm my rage woman. If you do, I might let you live."

For a moment, she was surprised by his words. He was honest, he killed these women, did he even fuck them? she wondered. However, if what he said was true, she knew there was no time for hesitation. She realized now that all those times Mary put her in a room with a man was to allow her to work on her charismatic skills, her flirting.

She was training her to seduce this man from the moment Mary put her in the warm bed.

Now, Gracelyn knew she'd die trying.

"Do I get to know your name?" she purred, placing her hands on his chest. She was trembling violently but didn't not hesitate.

He tilted his head amused by her perseverance, "Do you think dominant women attract me?"

She blinked, before realizing what he was saying. He was telling her to try again, to try and seduce him a different way. So, she leaned away from him. Moving towards the couch while swaying her hips. While she acted calm, her brain whirled for any clues from her encounters with the other men. What type of woman did this man like? Dead probably.

A man like this demanded respect, he demanded control- no not demanded, expected.

He craved control.

It clicked in her head like a gear locking into place. She looked back at him, before pursing her lips and softening her facial features. She knew how innocent she looked, and by the desire swimming on his face, she knew she was on the right track. Slowly, so slowly, she moved towards him, before allowing her knees to buckle just before she made it to him. She kneeled between his legs. Her large brown eyes looking up at Codrin looking down at her , she smiled coyly at him. Codrin shifted his pelvis in anticipation of her next move.

"How can you use me to calm your rage?" she meowed with seductive meekness.

His eyes widened in delight, a growl cutting through his throat before he grabbed her arm. Gracelyn held back from crying out, his grip was stronger than anything Albert could have produced, knowing that might turn him off. Instead, she inhaled sharply, allowing the man to toss her onto the bed.

"You smell so sweet," he growled.

Her eyes flicked up to his and the moment they did, something fell over her body. A fog-filled desire fell over her mind and a moan fell from her lips. It was strange, she had never felt this warming pleasure any time with Albert.

This was a heat. She was suddenly like a bitch in heat! A hot desire boiling through her body. She never got like this for her customers. The sensations this man created were a tingling from her spine into her cunt, a wet sensation between her legs. Gracelyn inhaled sharply as he ripped the front of her gown open. Ripping right through the corset, and the silk smock underneath. Cool air nipped at her exposed body, she could feel her nipples harden as her plump breasts jiggled from the motion.

"Ooh," she moaned, her hands flying to his bald head as he latched onto a nipple. She held him tight against her.

The man was surprisingly gentle, allowing his tongue to roll over her nipple. He knew the female body, he knew how to pleasure a woman, how to make her beg for him. Gracelyn moaned softly, her eyes fluttering and her back arching her chest into him. Against her skin, he smirked, allowing his hand to drift down her exposed stomach and between her legs.

"God," she gasped, her legs spreading instinctually, his thick fingers the only thing to quench the hot hunger inside, "P-Please, yes please!"

His fingers skillfully moved against her sex, "Please what, pet?"

A hot blush danced across her cheeks and chest, "Ooh fuck, don't make me beg!"

Her harsh words made him pause for a moment. His member throbbed in delight as this pretty, fragile woman begged him with such haughty language. To his surprise, he liked her foul mouth in the heat of pleasure. He enjoyed how aggressive she became for pleasure.

Codrin found it oddly endearing.

Leaning away from her, he watched as the woman let out a frustrated huff of air. He would have chuckled at the sight of this frail human wasn't turning him on so much. Her supple breasts and dark pink nipples. How messy her hair was and how quickly her brow accumulated sweat. Her stomach is perfectly shaped between toned and a pleasant deposit of fat a healthy woman would have. His hands moved faster than light as he grabbed her wrists, his pants already down. He wanted to fuck her so hard, so hard her pretty body was left black and blue.

"I'm going to bury myself deep inside you pet," he growled like a wolf, "I'll make your cunt mine for all of time."

Gracelyn gasped with want, "Please!" The words in her throat are shaky with desire.

Bang! Bang! bang! Thudded out undiageticly from her memory right as Codrin shoved his fat long cock inside of her.

Gracelyn blinked, her mind being pulled out of the lascivious memory. She found herself turned on by the distant memory, and yet annoyed at whatever had pulled her from it. Looking out the window, she blinked up at a noisy human man whose hand was on the hood of the car.

"Hey baby," he smirked, "You parked here waiting for something?"

She arched her brow but with anger, "Something?"

"Yeah," he said with unwarranted confidence in a way that disgusted her, "Some trade of payment. With a car like this, I'd say you're pretty cheap. What will you do for twenty?"

Grace smiled, calmly stepping out of the car and in front of the man.

"I have a better question," she replied coolly, "How much would you pay for your life?"

His eyes widened, "Wha--"

Without warning, she slammed her fingers into his throat and grabbed a handful of sinew. Blood splattered across her face and hair as he stumbled back, choking on his own blood. She hummed, licking the blood and eating the flesh off her fingers before stepping forward, and shoving the man right off the edge and into the water.

"I hate men like you," she sighed as his body sank, "Wasting my precious fucking time."

However, thinking back, Codrin was a lot like this man, just with none of the power.

She snapped out of her delusion. The over confident man stood in front of her piously. She instead opted to kick him in the balls. When he hit the floor after the sudden impact she slammed his head into the car hard enough to knock him out. She hadn't had the stomach to kill him now. Had she been younger, sure. But her violent thoughts and reaction bothered her. There was no need to kill some disrespectful shit. Grace wondered if she wasn't going to turn into someone like Codrin. It was the first time she ever thought she might not.

"To this day, you refuse to tell me if my desire was my own or one of your tricks," she whispered to herself in disdain, "Or perhaps you know I don't want the truth."

TEN

Michael spent most of the day in the home. He figured some mild exercise and reading would burn the time. Then he decided showering and cleaning some dishes would be best to burn time until Grace returned. She'd be home any second, no? He found himself walking through the house and into the living room where he stood examining the strange painting that had enraptured him from before. He wondered about its intentions for what felt like an eternity before Grace returned.

He looked over at the door when Grace entered before he smirked, the woman was extremely late. For someone who wanted to leave before the sun set, it was almost midnight now and it seemed she had a new set of clothing, not to mention a large shopping bag in her hand. Her new attire was a pair of red converse boots, along with provocatively tight and very dark blue jeans, a baby blue top that exposed her midriff with a deep cut V for cleavage and a strap around her neck, and a black bomber with red writing in a few different languages to adorn her.

"What?" she hummed innocently.

Michael gently shook his head, snapping himself out of his jaw dropped stupor, "Nice outfit."

"Thank you, the coat was on sale for less than a grand. Of course I had to get it," she replied cheekily, "Here. Change into this."

He took the bag before moving to the bathroom. It quickly became apparent that he was her new makeover project. His eyes rolled but he said nothing as he pulled on the dark blue slim jeans, a white V neck shirt, a black summer jacket and a pair of sleek black boots. Not to mention a pair of black leather gloves that he just shoved into his coat pocket. Honestly, he felt like he was about to rob a museum with this sort of get up.

Stepping back out into the living room, he shifted from foot to foot. He had never worn clothes this expensive and it made him somewhat insecure. He by no means dressed poorly but not so lavishly.

"Oh my goodness!" she gasped in delight, "You look handsome!" She eyed him up and down far longer than she realized.

He was already feeling embarrassed, but the comment made his cheeks heat up, "Thanks, not quite used to all this."

"I completely understand. I wasn't at one point...Oh but when we get there, make sure to put the gloves on," she commented with a lighthearted tone, pulling the front door open and gesturing to the outside, "You most definitely do not want anyone at the market touching your skin. You could be poisoned, or worse." she was being funny but he couldn't laugh, could he get poisoned?

Michael's eyes widened, "Worse?"

"Shapeshifters might take a liking to your body. They're a nasty bunch. Possibly even a Warlock or Witch getting bright ideas"

As they walked to the car, Michael slowly pulled on the gloves. As they drove, Grace reached to the radio putting on some 90's pop, music filled the car. They were silent, enjoying the mix of synths and instruments that 90's pop brought. The silence in the car made them feel as if they had been friends forever.

Michael looked out the window, he couldn't help but glance at the beautiful vampire through the reflection. He found himself in awe of her beauty, her body and piercing eyes. Then she turned, glancing at his eyes in the reflection. He felt as if she were raiding the desire in his mind for satisfaction. Instantly, he pulled his eyes away from her as shame filled him. Maybe she was in there? His head- of course. Grace was probably judging him.

He felt embarrassed.

"You smell," she suddenly said.

He blinked, turning his head towards her, "I stink?" He subtly sniffed his armpits.

Grace snorted humorously at Michael checking his pits, "You're not stinky in the typical way. I can smell subtleties in mood and hormones. You smell like guilt and shame," she hummed, "What's on your mind?" Her eyes checked him in the mirror again, almost knowingly.

However, she knew before she asked. In truth, she smelt his arousal, and it only triggered her own arousal. A wetness had formed when he walked out of that bathroom in his nice new clothing. Hell, she had bought herself the new outfit to garner his attention. She liked the human, she thrived on his shock and arousal in her sight. It was an excitement she thought she lost along with her humanity.

Then, she smelled his shame and it annoyed her. She didn't want him to be ashamed of wanting to fuck her, she forgot she was dead around him. He made her feel alive. She wanted him to be proud and confident! Without overstepping his bounds of course. Then just as quickly as the annoyance came, it was replaced with anger.

The moment he spoke, she was angry at herself.

"I was just thinking about how nice you look," he said. He looked out to the road ahead and his voice had a modicum of remorse. But his words a gentle and deeply statedS

Grace was surprised he just went for it, "Oh. I see." He admitted he wanted her and it gave her goosebumps.

"I'm sorry." He sighed.

The vampire sighed, moving her hand to squeeze just above his knee, "Darling, do not apologize. You are only human after all, and I am a full snack. Believe me, I think you'd be quite a snack too." She had sarcasm and teasing all wrapped up in it. She hoped it would disarm him, and it did...

He chuckled, "I'd be worried you'd bite my head off. But you're really chill. I'm glad I didn't offend you." Grace let go of his leg and briefly looked to smile at him. To not have a person be terrified of her was nice.

The comfort of silence fell over them again. Until Grace pulled into the parking lot of a large graveyard. Michael frowned, an uneasy feeling filling his stomach. Grace turned off the engine and smirked at Michael's reaction. It's what she expected, which is why she said nothing about the market to him.

"The Calvary Graveyard?" he asked, confused.

"Come along Hunter," she mocked, "Time to sacrifice you to my lord and savior Satan." She had more fun teasing him.

Michael's eyes had a second of caution until he realized it was more of her jokes, "Haha. Very funny."

"Who said I was joking?" she replied.

Michael's eyes widened, "Wait you are joking, right?"

"Who knows," she shrugged exaggeratedly.

He mulled over it for a second, he did so as Grace slid out of the car, she turned away from him to hide her giggle. Then, without waiting, she began moving towards the Queen's graveyard. Fumbling to open his own door, he hurried after her, panting. He followed after her trying to catch up to her. Michael was shocked at the ground she covered so quickly and surreally.

"Why are we here?" he asked, now realizing why she wore more typical shoes and not heels as usual.

She smiled, slowing herself from the supernatural glide across the field to a normal stride "For the most popular underground market in the world." Michael looked at her confused but she gave a look asking for trust.

They walked down the littered graves for a while before Grace stopped them at one of the larger tombs. Michael's eyes narrowed as he read the description: Tartarus 1522.

"There's no death date?" He asked, "And what kind of name is Tartarus?"