The Changed Ch 01

Desdemona opened her eyes reluctantly. She'd been fighting consciousness for a while now, but the ever present, ever annoying ringing ensured she didn't fall back into deep sleep.

Grumbling under her breath, she rolled over and reluctantly sat up. The silk covers pooled at her waist as she stretched and yawned, her long dark hair tangled over one shoulder.

A timid knock at her bedroom door brought a small frown to her flawless face, but then she shrugged and called out to whomever disturbed her. The door opened hesitantly and a young blond woman stepped across the threshold.

"I am Silvia and I was instructed to be present once you awakened."

Desdemona sniffed the air delicately and grinned. The quaking woman before her was a virgin, terrified, and human. Yummy.

"Silvia," she purred, "how long have I been asleep?"

Silva turned bright blue eyes towards her in shock. Obviously she hadn't been expecting that question. Desdemona wondered at the training her servants were being given.

"Tw-w-wo hundred years, ma'am."

Two hundred years? That was it? The time frame she'd set for herself had been considerably longer. After what happened

... her thoughts stumbled to a halt. The only time she was to be awakened so abruptly was in case of emergency. Alyssa stretched her senses, but other then a few human servants scattered through the house, she was completely alone. Yet,

something

, had disturbed her.

Which reminded her of the ringing she'd heard. Turning her head sharply, Alyssa realized a strange instrument was shrieking two floors down.

"Silva, be a love, and tell me in what god's name is making that awful racket?"

Silva's eyes rounded. "The phone ma'am."

"Phone?" she quizzed.

"Um..um..."

"Dear, if you are to be employed by me, you must understand three things: I cannot abide persons who are unable to complete their sentences, I demand strict obedience, and lastly, when I am awakened ahead of schedule there had better be a fine damn reason why!"

Having said that, Desdemona

flowed

from the bed and grasped the young woman by the waist. Normally she would have finessed this point, but her metabolism slowed for sleep had kicked in with a vengeance. Tipping Silva's head to the side, she licked the pulsing spot on her neck and sank her elongated fangs into the artery.

A second later, she screamed and pushed the young woman from her. Alyssa frantically spit the blood from her mouth as it felt like fire.

"But...but...you're human!"

Silva made a moue of distaste at the blood she felt running down the side of her neck. A devious smile replaced the look of innocent shock.

"You aren't completing your sentence, Charlotte. Tsk, tsk."

The younger woman stepped over to where she stood retching and wrapped a silver torque around her neck. Desdemona straightened when she heard a

snick

.

"Exactly what have you placed upon my neck?" She drew herself up to her full absurdly short five feet and two and a half inches. Despite all her powers and strength, she'd always felt it supremely unfair her second life didn't include at least seven inches in height.

Silva, damn her eyes, snickered insolently.

"Not so high and mighty now, Vampire?"

"It's Vamp

yr

not Vampire! If you are to address me, at least have the decency to do so correctly." Already awake five minutes and she could tell she did not like this time period at all, if this woman was any indication. Which reminded her.

"Exactly what are you? You smell human, but you're blood is not pure enough."

Outrage darkened Silva's blue eyes. She tugged at the torque and Desdemona nearly tripped in shock as electric bolts streaked through her body. Given her age, it'd been a very long while since she'd experienced pain. Now, not only was her mouth on fire from dirty blood, but her body felt as if a thousand knives were simultaneously slicing her open.

Despite her unwillingness to show pain to enemies, she had no choice but the collapse to her knees. Breathing deeply, she channeled every bit of it into fuel for the blood-rage shimmering beneath it. Finally it eased and she was able to lift her head.

Silva had seated herself at the edge of the bed and looked at her with amusement.

"Oh, very good show, Vamp

ire

." She stressed the ending syllables.

A knock at the door interrupted the little tete-tete and another human walked in.

No, not human

. Desdemona sniffed unobtrusively and realized these two were glimmered to seem human, but there was something off about their scent. If she'd not been so rudely awakened, she might have realized this sooner.

The male glanced at the tableau and frowned heavily. Aiming a sharp look at Silva, he stepped lightly to Desdemona's side and offered a hand. Though she wanted nothing more then to spring at him and rip his fucking throat out, she realized it might be better to her advantage if she seemed cowed.

"Thank you kindly, sir." Rising gracefully, she allowed herself to look into his eyes and

stare

. It was an old trick designed to lull the prey into a semiconscious state allowing the vampyr to feast upon their blood.

The blond-haired man merely laughed and patted her head indulgently.

"Now, now Charlotte. Your tricks don't work on us."

Never in her extremely long life had she ever been so insulted and angry. Obviously they assumed she was one of the Lesser Brethren. Tamping down any vestige of anger she drew upon her considerable acting skills.

Pouting, she stomped back to the bed and grabbed the silk sheet from under the visibly startled Silva. Feeling keen satisfaction at the way she flew across the room at Desdemona's tug, she wrapped the sheet around her toga style then whirled around to face the newcomer. They wanted something from her.

"I do not understand exactly why you keep addressing me as 'Charlotte,'" here the disdain was real, "but I'd appreciate it if you'd cease it immediately!" She thought the stamp of her foot was a nice touch.

The man bowed deeply, his form perfect. Impressed against her will, Desdemona recatorgized him from "shredded meat" to "meal." There was potential here and she definitely liked playing with her food. His physique was a little too muscled for her taste, but she would not let that deter her from pleasure. She rarely did.

"My name is Brandon and of course you've been introduced to Silva. I apologize for the somewhat rough treatment you've had at the hands of my overeager colleague."

"Will you take this collar off?"

"As sad as I am to deny such a lovely lady a request, I must leave it in place."

Hmn, so they were weaker then her.

Interesting.

That ruled out Were. Though the two races rarely fought, at least after the ending of the last interspecies war, they were almost evenly matched with strength and agility. The girl's blood was too polluted to be Dragokin, so what could they possibly be? She had not failed to notice they were similar looking with white gold hair, blue eyes, and tall lithe bodies.

She smiled widely in an effort to show off her dimples. Desdemona knew her cute smile coupled with her height often lulled people into thinking she was a lot more harmless then she actually was. They were wary now, but eventually someone would lower their guard and she would pounce. But for now, she'd go along with their scheme.

Besides, right now she was very woozy from lack of sustenance.

"Well, since we're all friends now, can we get a move on!"

Ah yes, Silva. She had special plans for that one.

"Brandon, I cannot find myself agreeing with your decision, but obviously for the time being I am forced to go along with it. However, as you obviously know what I am, you will not be surprised I am desperately in need of a good meal."

Brandon turned to Silva immediately, his pleasant expression fading into another dark frown. Silva shifted uncomfortably against the soft white carpet, a somewhat guilty look crossing her face before she drew herself up.

"Brandon, don't look at me like that! You weren't in here! She tried to rip my throat out!"

Desdemona huffed loudly at that extremely inaccurate statement.

"Trust me, love, if I wanted to do such an awful deed, you would not be standing here with us. No, I was a little abrupt as the blood-lust arose sharp and hard."

Deciding a peace offering was in order, Desdemona sauntered over to the visibly disturbed woman. Lightly brushing the blond hair from her throat, she leaned in and gently licked the two fang marks. Silva shuddered briefly then thrust herself away.

"What the hell was that?!"

"Apparently you do not know as much about Vampyrs as you think you do. I merely healed the injury."

Silva reached up to her neck and touched the now smooth skin. Even the slight traces of blood were gone.

Brandon looked at both of them, blond eyebrows raised high.

"As you do not wish to be addressed as Charlotte, what might I call you?"

Desdemona had no wish to enlighten them to her true identity, so she told them the first name that popped into her mind. "Natalia. I insist you call me Talia, though."

"Talia, Silva was supposed to escort you to the dining room where your meal awaits. We have much to discuss with you."

***

Desdemona closed her eyes with bliss as the blood from the femoral artery spilled over her tongue. She sipped delicately despite her intense hunger for she knew the human, this time a real human, would not be able to survive if she did not. Besides, she despised bad table manners, especially with strangers who may or may not be trying to kill her.

She opened her eyes briefly when she realized the man she fed on was about to climax. Raising her head, she accepted the cloth napkin thrust in her direction. She pushed back from the table far enough to avoid being hit by the jets of come spurting from him.

"Gross," Silva muttered.

Desdemona whipped her head around and glared at her. The pleasure of the meal faded slightly as she contemplated her dinner companions.

"Silva, you are an extremely rude young woman. One should never insult the chef as to the...ahem...spices he prepares his meal with."

She was especially intrigued by the ire in Silva's eyes, but the arousal in Brandon's. Apparently she was the first feeding Vampyre they'd ever witnessed.

"Child, we give them enjoyment in return for replenishing us. It is a mutually beneficial arrangement that has occurred for centuries."

"It's still gross," Silva rejoined.

The man shakily descended from the specially built table with the aid of Brandon's hand. Noting his gentlemanly behavior, Desdemona smiled slightly as she licked her lips. When the man brushed past her chair, she reached out and gave his now flaccid penis a slow stroke. He gasped as his cock eagerly began filling with blood again. Ignoring his erection, she smoothed her fingers over the area she fed from. The slight wound closed up and she released him.

"He may go now."

A yearning expression arose, but the man realized her words were final. A slight droop of his shoulders articulated his disappointment better then words. Turning from him, Desdemona fixed a now alert eye towards her captors.

She'd gone to sleep two hundred years ago with the intention of letting a millennia or more pass before Awakening. The fact she was not surrounded by her own people, but in the hands of more-than-humans in a place far from civilization wasn't exactly promising. However, she'd escaped an execution planned for her by a disgruntled Roman emperor, so odds were in her favor she'd be able to get out of this too.

"Now explain a few details to me please. First, why was I rudely awakened before my time, secondly, who or what are you, and lastly, why am I here?"

Brandon returned to his seat next to her. Unlike her living meal, his contained more mundane items like vegetables and fruits. Silva did not partake of any foods, but stood near the door in apparent readiness should she try and escape.

"Talia, I promised you answers. First, our intention was to let you awaken in your own natural time. We did nothing to hasten it. Secondly, we are Sidhe. And lastly, you are here because we need you desperately."

Desdemona ignored the first and last point, instead focusing on his "Sidhe" portion of his response. Despite popular myths, the Sidhe were not small six-inch creatures that frolicked in buttercup fields and ate nectar for food. Yet, they also did not look like these two. Narrowing her green eyes, she

looked

at them and shock lengthened her fangs unintentionally.

They were half-Fae.

Of all the Netherworld races, Sidhe were the snobbiest and most concerned with keeping the purity of their blood. Of course, given they only procreated every third century or so, it was a wonder they had not died out already. On the other hand, Elves often intermingled with humans. Since it was over four hundred years since she'd seen one, one must forgive her for not seeing the truth.

"Apparently the same books you researched for Vampyres also gave you faulty information about the Sidhe. You are no more Sidhe then I am. No, you are half-breed Elves."

A distinct clicking noise brought her attention back to Silva. She pointed an ugly hand gun at her. Desdemona raised a dark eyebrow in question.

"It's loaded with silver and garlic, bitch."

Brandon stood, his hand outstretched towards Silva.

"Enough! We are here for a reason even if you don't like it!"

Desdemona watched in fascination as the girl drew in a shuddery breath before reluctantly subsiding and handing Brandon her gun. There was so much passion and anger there – it aroused her immensely. Of course, she was still obligated to tear her heart out and drink from it as it still beat, but there was always time for pleasure.

The male half-elf turned back to her with a pained smile.

"This is not how I pictured it. Truly. I wanted this to be a pleasant experience so you would be more inclined to help us."

"Again you speak of services rendered. What exactly do you wish of me?"

Brandon exchanged glances with Silva then faced her squarely.

"We need you to kill Lord Magnus."