A Vampire Tale With A Twist Pt 08

Chapter Eight

The moment Eztli first declared his love for her would forever remain etched in Angela's memory as one of the best moments of her life. Everything he did to her in the minutes and hours that followed, seemed imbued with meaning - from the way he tied her, suspended inside a large circular frame spinning some ten feet above ground, to the way he sliced the black leather dress off her, pausing frequently to pull her head back and kiss her neck, tenderly. Each time his teeth grazed her skin, she sucked in her breath expecting him to bite her, but he held back, showing an admirable level of restraint, for a vampire.

"Mmmm... Mmmm..." she moaned, wishing for him to take her, take her now. He only chuckled softly - and then, he started spanking her.

In contrast to the punishment that he had previously dished out to her, he was slow and gentle at first, stroking each ass cheek in-between slaps, and reaching between her legs every so and so, to check how wet she was. Turned on and as yet, unaware of the pain building up gradually, Angela panted and gyrated her hips to the rhythm that he set. Minute after minute, the spanking - come masturbation - went on, her arousal increasing all the while. When, at last, the skin on her buttocks began to burn, it caught her entirely by surprise, making her gasp.

"Please, Eztli! I can't take any more!" she begged, during another brief pause that saw his hand sliding between her legs and spreading her labia open deftly.

"Tut-tut, fräulein. What did we say my name was, from now on?" As he spoke, he removed his fingers from her slippery folds and transferred his attention to her derriere once more.

"L-liam. D-Degrand. Aaah! Fuuck!" she cried, because he was spanking her hard now, turning her ass cheeks red.

"Good. Now, say it again."

Angela did as he said, repeating the words over and over, one word for each loud slap.

"Liam! Degrand! Ah! Fuck! Liam! Degrand!"

Some thirty seconds - or sharp, stinging slaps - later, her shouts became incoherent, her hips jerking uncontrollably in response to the pain spreading through her buttocks. When that happened, he pulled out his hard cock and speared her from behind, mid-scream. He made love to her right there, in the air, with deep, vigorous thrusts that took her breath away and made the frame she was tied to swing back and forth on its chain.

"OhGod! OhGod! OhGod!" she cried, her pussy squirting fresh wetness around his hard length. Despite the discomfort of her red-raw ass cheeks, she was soon coming hard, vibrating all over with her head thrown back helplessly, against his shoulder. In the next moment, she felt him brushing her hair out of the way, gently. His lips were soft and intensely pleasurable as he kissed her neck once more, directly over her madly pulsing artery. Then he was biting down, just as she expected him to, all along - the act causing her excitement to spike sharply and her body to jerk inside its bonds.

"Mmmmm! Mmmm!" she moaned, as his sharp incisors pierced her, and her blood began to flow. "Mmmm.... Mmmm..."

Several adrenaline-laced moments later, she went limp and would have collapsed against him if not for the ropes keeping her suspended. Subdued most effectively, she remained silent for the rest of the session, listening to his groans of pleasure as he fed on her while fucking her hard and fast. Only when he finally pulled out with a wet sound, did she manage a soft whimper, whereupon he kissed her forehead and remarked with a laugh,

"Shh... no helpless little noises out of you, or you'll make me hard again. That's not normally a bad thing, except right now, we must go hunting. OK?"

She didn't really want to go anywhere, but she lacked the strength or the inclination to argue. Silently, she drank from his wrist when he offered it, before nodding in agreement. Fast forward ten minutes - the time it took for him to untie her and select a new, sexy leather dress for her to wear - and they were cloaked in darkness, streaking through the night sky on their way to the hunting grounds. Relaxed in the protective circle of Eztli's arms, Angela gazed at the city lights and thought how beautiful they looked. The journey passed quickly in this way, so that she was surprised when they started to descend, in a part of the city that she did not recognize.

"Where on earth are we?" she asked, gazing in distaste at the ramshackle buildings and narrow, grungy-looking alleyways devoid of any signs of life. He laughed indulgently while replying,

"The same place I took you to, the first night we went hunting together, fräulein. It just looks different to you, from the air."

She confirmed the truth of the statement for herself, after noticing the dried blood on the pavement beneath their feet.

"This is the exact spot where we killed all those men," she said, her nostrils twitching.

"Indeed, fräulein. Although I think you'll find, I killed most of them." He gave her a smile, then took her by the hand. "Come, their friends have been out looking for us, and we don't want to disappoint them."

With a rising sense of apprehension, Angela let him pull her along, an easy thing to do with his energy enveloping her. They glided together until the next street corner, where he finally allowed gravity to assert itself and their feet to touch down. Immediately, she wanted to stroll forward, but he stopped her with a gentle tug.

"Keep still," he whispered, his eyes swiveling sideways, in the direction of the main street. Thus forewarned, she stayed put and a few seconds later, she heard voices in the distance, arguing amongst themselves.

"Must we waste another night searching the streets, T? The a-holes that killed Marty and the others are long gone by now." The voice sounded whiny, the way children sometimes did when complaining to their parents.

"Shut your pie-hole, Rico, or go home. None of us will miss you," a second man replied. He sounded gruff and full of self-importance, like a leader whose patience was wearing thin.

"We won't miss him, T," a third man piped up, cautiously, "but he does have a point. I mean, it's been a few days now and we ain't seen no trace of 'em. Chances are..."

"Did I ask your opinion?" the second man said. "Y'all can fuck off, as far as I'm concerned. Me, I'm gonna keep looking for my brother's killers, cause it's bleedingly obvious the cops ain't doing shit about it!"

They didn't speak for several moments, then someone said, "Hey, why don't we split up? We'll cover more ground that way, and it'll stop us arguing. What do y'all say?"

Angela was too preoccupied with their conversation to notice Eztli looking at her. At the touch of his hand at her elbow, she jumped then gazed up at him questioningly.

"Scream, fräulein," he said, his pale blue-grey eyes flashing. She didn't understand what he was asking, at first. So, he helped her by grabbing her arm and releasing a bolt of energy into her, similar to that produced by a taser or a cattle prod.

"Aaaaaaaah!" she screamed, jerking against him violently.

"Why the f... did you do that?" she squeezed out, when she was able to speak once more.

He gave her a look of incredulity, before replying, "Because I wanted you to scream, fräulein. Did I not ask you nicely first? Only, you failed to oblige me for some reason."

She wanted to tell him that screaming wasn't something she did on command, but the words stayed trapped in her head, obliterated by the sounds of multiple, heavy footsteps drawing near. That was when she understood that he had used her to draw the mob to them, rather than allowing them to disperse, as they were planning to do. It made no sense to her, no sense at all. Who in their right mind would choose to invite trouble on themselves, in this way?

"Really, my dear, you mustn't underestimate me," Eztli said, under his breath. "Or yourself, for that matter."

Still with his hand on her arm, he pulled her backward swiftly, taking them deeper into the alleyway, from which they had come. A split second later, the first of the young men rounded the corner and paused briefly, at the very spot they had just vacated.

"Pass me the damn flashlight, now," he barked at the men coming up behind him.

Oh, shit.

Angela thought, after observing the guns in their hands.

We're in trouble.

"Nein, fräulein. It is they who are in trouble," Eztli whispered in her ear. And with that, he was gone, moving over the group like death himself, ripping out the throats of the first few victims before they knew what was happening.

"Shoot! Shoot dammit!" someone shouted, shrilly, as screams rose through the still night air, followed by the sound of bodies hitting the pavement. Only a few shots were fired in the wake of the desperate cry, with most of the bullets ending up lodged in the bricks and mortar of the surrounding buildings. Possessed by the red haze that swept over her at the first whiff of blood, Angela did not even try to dodge them. Instead, she leapt onto the back of the man nearest to her, intent on satisfying her hunger and striking further terror into their prey.

Her chosen victim was much bigger than her and managed to scream for help when he felt her sharp incisors puncture the side of his thick neck. Being bigger, however, didn't make him stronger, the way it might have done when she was a mere human. His attempts to throw her off were weak at best, particularly as he had only seconds to act. That was how long it took for Angela to drain him of a significant portion of his blood, and for his knees to give way. She let him fall and moved onto her next target without a pause, ignoring the mayhem around her and the occasional stab of pain from someone punching her in the back.

A short while later, she raised her head from her third kill for the night to find a couple of gun barrels pointed at her head. The cold hatred in the eyes of the men holding them signaled murderous intent, despite which she felt no fear - a fact she attributed to her being in 'hunt mode' and thus, cut off from her own emotions.

"How are you still alive?" the first of the men asked, making her frown.

"Who the hell cares," the second one quipped, in a shaky voice that she recognized as that of the gang leader, 'T'. "Just blow her brains out, that oughta do it."

He was still speaking when Angela moved, her self-preservation instincts taking over. After rolling away too fast for the human eye to track, she looked behind her to see Eztli swooping down on the pair, his handsome face distorted by rage.

"Iugulare eos!" he growled, while slicing at the men's throats in a single, sweeping motion of his hands. Twin fountains of alizarin crimson sprayed forth from the long gashes his wicked nails left behind, covering all three of them liberally. Grievously wounded, the two gangsters stared at him in stunned silence, their guns dangling uselessly in their hands.

"You're probably wondering how you are still alive," Eztli said. He paused to wipe some of the blood from his face and lick it off his fingers with obvious pleasure, then went on, "The answer is, of course... you're not. Right now, your brains are still functioning, but you won't stay that way for long. Ten, fifteen seconds, and it'll all be over. Take my word for it. I've seen it happen a million times. More, actually, now that I think about it."

The men were shaking visibly now, and watching them from the sideline, Angela wondered what frightened them more - the sight of Eztli's blood-streaked face or the casual way he announced their deaths. She was still trying to settle on the answer, when they dropped their weapons and collapsed to their knees, stammering,

"You... you're a... vampire..."

Eztli gave them a single, slow nod. Then, just as slowly, he leaned down and sank his teeth into the neck of 'T', making him jerk and shake helplessly. Taking it as her cue, Angela rushed over to the second man, kneeling beside 'T' with his mouth hanging open. Like his leader, he put up no resistance as she pulled his head back and began to feed.

Ten seconds later, the men's hearts stopped beating, bringing the brief battle to its end.

"Well done, fräulein," Eztli said, when she straightened up and turned to face him, "but try not to get shot next time."

"What?" she asked, dumbfounded. He gave her a look that bordered on pity, before gliding closer and running his hand over her back.

"There are bullet holes in your dress. Three, to be precise."

"So, that's why they asked me how I was still alive," she muttered, in surprise. "How strange. I never felt anything."

"Sure, you did. You just didn't know what you were feeling, because you've never been shot before. Also, you were high on adrenaline." As he spoke, he pushed her down, onto her front, then dragged a nail diagonally across her back, slicing her dress open. She flinched when she felt it, then began to struggle when he cut into her skin, sans any warning.

"Fuuuck! Stop, please! You're hurting me!"

"Keep still, or it will hurt a lot worse," he said, grabbing hold of her arm and giving it a squeeze. At once, she found herself growing still, whether by force of suggestion or his special energy, she wasn't sure. Either way, he was pleased, explaining in a patient tone,

"You must trust me on this, fräulein. Ordinary bullets can't kill us, but they can do untold damage if left

in situ

. That's why I must remove them, stat."

Angela nodded, reminding herself that he was a fully qualified surgeon - or had been, at some stage in his long life. But the knowledge did nothing to dull the pain, when he began to make incision after incision in the twitching flesh of her back.

"Aaaaaah! Aaaaah! Fuuuck! Fuuuuck! Aaaaaah!!" she screamed, over and over, at the top of her voice. He paid her no heed but proceeded to remove all three bullets without comment, and without pausing to give her a break. For Angela, it was the worst pain she'd ever felt, worse even than the harsh whipping and branding with the hot iron that she'd experienced at his hands. Several times, she passed out in agony, only to come back to more of the same. By the time the impromptu surgery was finished, her voice was raw from screaming and her normally cool skin clammy with sweat.

"You damn sadist," she hissed, through clenched teeth. "You call yourself a surgeon? Operating on me... without... aaah... any anesthetic!"

Eztli, however, was unrepentant.

"Anesthetics don't work on vampires," he stated flatly, while sealing the wounds shut with a touch of his hand. "None of the modern medicines do, you'll be interested to know. As for me being a sadist, I don't mind admitting that is who I am. Just as long as you don't mind admitting you're a masochist."

For a moment, Angela was speechless. Then, with an angry shrug of her shoulders, she jumped up and spun around to face him, so she could glare at him as she replied,

"I am

not

a masochist! I've never once asked you to hurt me. And if I had it my way? You'd never hurt me again!"

"Is that a fact?" he asked, raising an elegant eyebrow at her.

"Yes, it is," she shot back, vehemently. With her back still bloodied and aching, it was easy to believe her own words - and yet, she experienced a moment of disappointment when he shrugged his broad shoulders and let the matter drop, without arguing.

"We should get you home, fräulein," he said, changing the subject. "Those screams were a little too loud I think, and I couldn't mute you, because I needed all my focus for the surgery. Which means, it's not safe for you out here, anymore."

She opened her mouth to ask him whether he was serious or just trying to scare her, when out of the corner of her eye she saw a shadow move. Since shadows did not ordinarily move by themselves, her first reaction was to search for the object that made it. Then her mind caught up with what her eyes were telling her, and she realized the tall, human-shaped shadow wasn't a shadow, at all.

"Hey, that's a..." she began then stopped, when she saw Eztli frowning fiercely.

"Don't speak and don't think, fräulein," he told her, while scooping her up and taking to the air at a speed that made her dizzy. She was wondering what on Earth he meant by 'don't think', when he snapped, "Clear your mind this instant! That's an order!"

Angela baulked at his tone, but at least the meaning was clear. She was to think of nothing, strange as that sounded. Without quite knowing what she was doing, she closed her eyes and focused on her breathing. Inhale, one, two, three, four, five, six, seven. Exhale. One, two, three, four, five, six, seven. Pause. One, two, three, four. Inhale.

She was still counting, when they slowed down perceptibly, and she heard the front door swing open to admit them. They had made it home in record time, but something told her they were still not in the clear.

"Maledicere et damnare!" Eztli cried, swooping inside a little too quickly and knocking over several sculptures in the process. The loud crash as they hit the marble floor made Angela yelp in fright, but though she gripped Eztli's suit with extra force, she resisted the urge to take a peek behind them. It was obvious to her they were being chased by a vampire, and she didn't need any visuals to confirm this. The glimpse she'd caught of him in the alleyway was quite enough, she thought glumly.

They proceeded to race through the palatial home at top speed, and without once touching down, so that she was quite surprised when, mere seconds later, she opened her eyes to find herself in the big four poster bed, with Eztli leaning over her, whispering,

"Mein fräulein, please... Stay here and be quiet."

From the flat of her back, she gazed up at him in confusion. Why was her handsome master, the most powerful vampire alive, whispering to her, in his own home? What was he afraid of?

"I'm not afraid of anyone. It's you I fear for, my dear," Eztli whispered, supplying her with the answer as usual, in response to her thoughts alone. "I don't want to scare you, but if they catch you, they will kill you. Understand?"

"They?" Angela repeated, with a sense of shock. "But I saw only one..."

Eztli shook his head, said "scheiße" to no one in particular, and straightened up hurriedly. She saw a flash of his long incisors as he snarled silently, and then he was whirling around and gliding away, faster than she could say, "hey, wait."

Seconds after the door shut behind him, a series of unearthly howls reached Angela's keen ears, each one more blood-curdling than the one that preceded it. She heard Eztli shout,

"Remove te ab domo mea!"

And for a moment, the howls grew fainter, by which she deduced their owners were falling back. But then someone shouted back,

"This is not your home! Go back to where you came from!"

There came the sound of heavy objects crashing to the floor, followed by breaking glass, and angry voices shouting, cursing and howling.

Those aren't men.

Angela thought, tilting her head sideways and listening carefully.

They're women. Female vampires, like me.

At once, as she thought this, the question posed itself: who were they and what was their relationship to Eztli? The answer seemed obvious. They were old lovers of his, women that he'd turned and then made love to, much as he'd done with her. Mulling over this a bit longer, she soon deduced there must be many such women, out there, that she didn't know about. After all, Eztli was an incredible lover, irresistibly handsome and well-endowed, with a body to die for... and to top it off, he was immortal.

If a regular man can have dozens of love affairs in his short life

, Angela thought, the wheels in her head spinning madly,

imagine how many a vampire like him must have had, in his 2,000 years?