Blood Awakening (16 page)

He snatched her back up with a grip so unyielding that
his hands felt like shackles on her arms. His hard body pressed so tightly
against hers that she could feel every contour of his erection straining against
her quivering stomach as they flew across the sky like a shooting star.

“Do not do that again!” he warned.

The chilling, demonic voice vibrated against her
ear, and Ciopori shuddered.
What was he?
What male in the house of Jadon
would dare to treat her so harshly? Who would defy Napolean so openly? And why
did he positively reek of malevolence, death, and sin?

Ciopori quivered in his arms as awareness flooded
her consciousness:
He wasn’t from the house of Jadon
. He was a
descendant of her brother Jaegar.

Fear seized her heart like an iron vice.

And then the world went suddenly black.

When Ciopori opened her eyes, she was in an
underground chamber—a large stone master bedroom—and she was chained by the
wrists and ankles to a four poster bed, her torn silk robe barely covering her
thighs.

She tried to lift her head and look around the
room, but it was too dark to make out details. With the exception of one lit
torch in the far corner and a few black candles scattered about the marble
floor, the space had the quality of a tomb.

She heard the sound of an infant whimpering and
strained her neck to get a look at a small bassinette just to the right of the
bed, up against the cavern wall. As she turned away, her eyes began to adjust
to the light, and then she saw him for the first time: the vampire who had
taken her from the forest.

The creature looked jarringly similar to the males
she had met from the house of Jadon, yet terrifyingly different at the same
time.

His banded black and red hair fell in thick, wavy
locks past his enormous shoulders, and his dark sapphire eyes seared into her
like he was staring straight through her. He had a high widow’s peak at the
juncture of his hairline and thin arched brows that were perpetually curved
into a frown. His features were chiseled in a sharp, unnatural manner, and he
would have almost seemed handsome—stunning, in fact—if an aura of evil didn’t
hover about him like a swarm of bees to a honeycomb.

Ciopori struggled against the chains. “Where am
I?”

The male sauntered to the foot of the bed,
practically gliding above the ground as he walked. And then he stopped and
smiled a wicked, soul-piercing grin. “Allow me to introduce myself, Princess
Ciopori.” He stretched out his arm and bowed low at the waist in an Old World
gesture. “I am Salvatore Rafael Nistor. And you are my guest.”

Ciopori’s eyes grew wide. The male was mad. “Do
you always chain your guests to your bed?”

Salvatore lowered his head and briefly shut his
eyes. “I apologize for the inconvenience, but I needed to be sure you would
behave.” He stalked around the length of the bed then, reaching down to drag
the back of his hand along her body as he went. He brushed her toes, traced her
lower legs, and kneaded her inner thigh, a primal groan of pleasure escaping his
throat as his fingers swept over her stomach, through the valley between her
breasts, and stopped to grip her throat. “You are most exquisite, Princess. I
must admit, in all my years on earth, I have never seen anything quite
so...delicious.”

“Don’t touch me!” Ciopori trembled and tried to
pull away.

Salvatore laughed a low, evil hiss. “Spoken like a
true aristocrat.” His hand tightened around her throat, pressing down until it
sealed off her airway, and then he sat beside her on the bed and leaned over,
glaring into her eyes. “Unfortunately, you are in my castle now, and I am the
only king in this room.” He relaxed his hand, nicked her jugular with the nail
of his right thumb, and licked his lips at the sight of her blood.

Ciopori stifled a scream. She would not give him
the satisfaction. “What do you want with me?”

Salvatore sat back. His eyes swept over her body,
his nostrils flaring as he deeply inhaled her feminine scent. “Ah, but that is
the question of the millennium, is it not?” He laughed again. And then he stood
and paced around the room, his hands clasped tightly behind his back.

“At first glance, I would have to say to drink
your celestial blood until I become drunk with it. And then, of course, to
screw you to death when I’m finished...or perhaps at the same time.” He sighed.
“Mmm, do you think I could break your pelvis with my groin, Princess?” His hand
traced his lower belly and then he spun around and eyed her again with his head
cocked to the side. “Yes, I’m certain that I could. A most exquisite death, no?”

Ciopori winced and looked away.

“But then, that would be such a waste of a
precious jewel. You are the sister of our Dark Lord, Jaegar, himself—are you
not?” He rubbed his chin as if deep in thought. “There is, of course, the more
pressing temptation: to sire children with an original female, to watch my
young tear their way out of your glorious body, knowing they will grow to be powerful
beyond measure, but again, that would most certainly kill you. And you are far
too precious to exterminate...yet.”

He glided over to a nightstand beside the bed and
rubbed his hand in soft, sensuous circles over an old tattered tome, stroking
the leather like a long-lost lover. “But here’s the thing: I believe that with
the proper magic, you might be made immune to the curse of your sisters. You
might be able to live through a live birth. You might even be able to conceive
female offspring.” He bent over and kissed the cover of the book. “You are part
goddess and part human, are you not? And I can feel the ancient wizard’s—
Fabien’s—
magic
all around you. He changed you somehow, and I intend to find out exactly what
he did.”

He leaned over the bed and gave her a slow,
lingering kiss on the mouth, his tongue piercing so deep that she gagged.

She spat when he pulled away.

“No, Ciopori; you are not going to die right away,
and unfortunately, I dare not risk getting you pregnant...at this juncture. It
is my hope that in time—and with enough experimentation—you might be used to
breed the most powerful vampires ever born for the whole of the sons of Jaegar.
Perhaps you will be the queen ant of our civilization.” His laughter echoed off
the walls, making Ciopori sick to her stomach.

“In the meantime, however...” He gestured toward
the small red crib at the side of the room. “There is the immediate matter of
my nephew, Derrian. His nanny recently—how shall I say?—passed away. And I am
in need of a caretaker to provide for him until I can find a replacement.”

Ciopori raised her chin in defiance. “I’d be happy
to watch the little monster. Bring him to me, Salvatore, so I can snap his little
neck!”

Salvatore shot backward like a reptilian bird of
prey. He ascended into the air and hovered directly above her on the ceiling,
his eyes glowing red, the tips of his fangs gleaming in the candlelight. “Will
you, now?” he growled, trembling from head to toe.

Oh goddess…
Ciopori held her breath.

He descended so quickly, his motion was a blur. Then,
one by one, he reached for her chains and tore them free with his bare hands,
placing his arm around her waist so she couldn’t escape. Hefting her over his
shoulder like an insignificant sack of potatoes, he walked right through the
chamber wall into a long, dark hallway.

Ciopori gasped, terror beginning to seize her, as Salvatore
stormed down the endless tunnel—half walking, half flying—growling like an
angry lion the entire way.

“We will see about that, Princess. We will see
about that!”

He took her through an endless maze of tunnels,
weaving this way and that, walking right through walls, passing straight through
heavy wooden doors, with her body in his arms as if the obstacles weren’t even
there.

Dear gods, what kind of magic does this male
possess?

As they moved through the underground fortress,
she heard male voices and shrill laughter, grunts, and groans—sounds that were
as disturbing as they were animalistic—coming from behind doorways, down
distant hallways, both above and below. There were many,
many
more males
just like him inhabiting the space, but somehow, he managed to avoid coming in
contact with any of them as he whisked her through the tunnels.

When they finally reached a set of pitch-black,
double-arched doorways, Salvatore set her down roughly and seized the back of
her neck in an iron grasp. “Open the door!”

Ciopori clenched her robe at the sides, her hands balled
into two stubborn fists. “No.”

He slapped her in the back of the head so hard
that her face hit the heavy door and bounced off, causing her to bite her own
tongue. “Open it!”

Ciopori glared at the handles and frowned. They
were made of interwoven cast iron and ivory, each one bent into the shape of a
coiled snake, with several of the ivory bands painted red to give the
appearance of cobras guarding the entryway. Their eyes were inlaid with dark
rubies, and their tails were coated in solid gold. She cringed as she gripped the
reptilian handles and slowly opened the door.

Salvatore shoved her inside, remaining close behind,
and then he waved his hand to light the twelve candelabras placed evenly around
the room.

Ciopori stared at her surroundings. There were two
man-sized granite beds situated in the center of the space with large
hand-sculpted statues of gargoyles at the head and foot of each, the creatures
glaring down over the benches. The hideous monsters resembled a cross between
an angry lion and a mythical lizard, with large, bulging eyes framing their
faces and huge upper and lower canines distending from their mouths. Along the
walls were rows of tunnels—like miniature caves carved into the limestone—and the
ceiling was painted marble with ghastly renditions of snake-heads covering every
square inch, all of the eye-sockets inlaid with gemstones.

Ciopori grimaced and tried to hide her fear. “What
is this place?”

Salvatore crept up behind her and bent to her ear.
“It is a chamber of exquisite pleasure, Princess. However, for you, I do not
believe that will be the case.” He snarled, causing the hair on the back of her
neck to stand up. “Come,” he ushered, dragging her toward one of the beds.

Ciopori tried to resist, but the male possessed
ungodly strength, forcing her compliance with casual ease. Attached to the
wings of the gargoyles were chains with manacles on each end, and the moment
she saw them, she broke away in a sudden burst of terror, fleeing toward the
doors.

The vampire merely waved his hand, and her body
froze, midstride. “Where do you think you’re going?”

Ciopori stifled a scream and fought back her tears.
She raised her chin, summoning as much dignity as she could. “Take me out of
here at once, Salvatore.” The command came out far weaker than she intended.

Salvatore shook his head slowly, his sapphire eyes
glowing with intensity. “You still do not understand your place, do you?” He
sauntered over to her, snatched her by the arm, and dragged her back to the
granite bed. “But you will.”

As if she were nothing more than a limp doll, he
shackled her arms above her head to one gargoyle and her feet, crossed at the
ankles, to the other—laying her out on the bed like a pagan sacrifice. And then
he cruelly removed her robe with one hard tug, ripping it to shreds.

Ciopori shrieked as she eyed the salivating
creature above her, her thin silk nightgown all that remained between herself
and the cold stone beneath her.

“Relax,” Salvatore hissed, “I said I wouldn’t kill
you—
or rape you
—yet.” He took a seat on the bench opposite her, and with
the wave of his hand, removed his own clothes.

Ciopori gasped. “What are you doing?” Her voice
was thick with disgust.

Salvatore lay down on the stone parallel to her. “You
shall see soon enough.”

With that, he took a deep breath and waved his
hand. A strange ethereal music began to play in the chamber, and a dense black
smoke began to rise from the floor, swirling around the gargoyles and the beds in
a sultry, serpentine motion.

Ciopori blanched and blinked her eyes. The feel of
evil was so thick in the darkness that her throat was constricting.

“You will want to regulate your breathing, Princess...to
slow down the venom.”

Ciopori’s eyes shot open.
Venom? What venom?

Before she could ask Salvatore what he meant, the
room began to come alive: The walls began to undulate like the hips of a male
making love to a woman, thrusting back and forth in slow, seductive gyrations,
and the flames in the candelabras danced, swaying from side to side, the tips
of the flames burning crimson red.

And then the cobras appeared.

One after the other.

Slithering from the entrances, the hollows in the
walls, dozens upon dozens of gliding black-and-red serpents slinking out of the
tunnels and dropping to the floor. Gliding toward the benches.

Ciopori screamed so loud her vocal cords burned. Her
chest heaved up and down beneath her erratic heartbeat. “Salvatore!”

Oh, dear gods, please make him— 

“
Salvatore! Stop this! At once…”  At this
point, pride was a wasted emotion. “I’m sorry, Salvatore.
Please
, just
make them stop.”

The languid vampire simply chuckled low in his
throat and groaned in anticipation of what was to come.

Ciopori shook from head to toe, eyeing the floor
as a large flat-headed snake slithered toward her. “Please…”  Her voice was a hollow
plea.

Salvatore snarled then. “You were going to do what
to my nephew, Princess?”

Princess Ciopori shook her head vigorously. “Nothing.
Nothing!
Unchain me, Salvatore. Get me out of here.” Her cries rose in direct
proportion to the approach of the snake.

And then she heard a deep, guttural groan, and her
eyes flew open in shock.

Salvatore was lying on the stone, his back arched,
his head tilted back, panting in ecstasy as a half-dozen cobras slithered up
his naked belly and found their way to his chest, arms, and throat.

Ciopori watched in stunned horror as the first
snake struck him hard, sinking long, pointed fangs into his chest right above
his heart, releasing venom on a hiss. And then, as if the first snake had cued
the others, they began to strike one after the other, causing a frenzied
reaction in the other snakes in the room. Like a sea of red and black, the
snakes began to descend upon the vampire’s quivering body, striking wildly,
latching on with death grips to release their poisonous venom.