The Vampire's Seduction (24 page)

“Where did you leave the mayor’s SUV?” I asked.

“In the parking lot of one of your churches. The one with the gold cross embedded in the window glass. A rather good joke, don’t you think? Why do you ask?”

“Because we’ll need it,” I said. “As soon as the sun sets, I’ll take you hunting.”

Jack

Someone was knocking on the door. “Five more minutes,” I muttered.

“Jack,” came a muffled shout from somewhere nearby. It was Deylaud.

I groaned. It all came flooding back. Making Shari. Listening to her suffer for hours. Too much whiskey. I didn’t even remember getting in the coffin.

“Jack, it’s sundown. Melaphia says to remind you that you still have work to do, whatever that means. William told her you’d had too much to drink and that I was supposed to make sure you didn’t sleep in.”

“That William thinks of everything, don’t he?” I raised up on one elbow, wondering why the hell my wrist hurt so bad. Then I remembered that too. I raised the lid and blinked at Deylaud. “Yeah. Yeah. I’m up.”

He looked relieved. “I’m going upstairs to work on the household accounts. Let me know if you need anything.” He turned and disappeared up the passageway.

I looked over at Shari’s coffin. She wasn’t banging away like a marimba band anymore or screeching loud enough to wake the dead. There was only silence. Dead silence, if you’ll pardon the expression. I sat up and climbed out of my box. When my feet hit the floor, the jarring sensation felt like somebody hit me upside the head with an iron skillet. If you don’t think vampires can get hangovers, think again.

Not only did I not feel so good, I was sure I wasn’t looking all that great either. This was one of those days when I was actually glad I couldn’t see my own reflection. I probably would have scared the living shit out of myself. I looked down at my clothes. My jeans were dirty, my shirt was wrinkled, and the magic sport coat was rumpled and bloodstained. Shari would probably take one look at me and start screaming again. Especially when I explained the final step in the manufacturing of female vampires.

I thought I’d better put the jacket somewhere for safekeeping. It was getting to be in rough enough shape as it was. I patted the pocket and felt that the holy water was still there. What could the stuff do to me?

I could bump up against something in public, break the vial, and spill some on myself. I could just see the steam coming off me as I boiled away. “Excuse me, y’all. Mind if I smoke?” I considered pouring it down the sink of the wet bar, but who knew if it might come in handy someday. At the very least I could get it back to Connie when this Reedrek thing blew over. If I survived it, that was.

I walked over to the passageway and inspected Melaphia’s little altars along the wall. As quickly and carefully as I could, I took the holy water out of the jacket pocket and placed it behind a little statue of some saint or other. I watched it for a couple of seconds to make sure it didn’t start bubbling. It looked like it was going to be fine.

I hung the blue jacket in the closet behind the bar and returned to Shari’s coffin. I smoothed my hair down as best I could and wondered if I should take a shower. Better not. William was specific about the wild thing needing to happen as soon as she woke up. I tapped lightly on her coffin, feeling as awkward as a teenager knocking on his girl’s door for their first date. I remembered that Shari was stark naked. Well, that would certainly save time. I also remembered that she’d been braying like a wild animal and whirling like a dervish a few hours ago.

“Anybody home?” I called. I reached out and disconnected the fastener.

The lid of the coffin flew open with such force that it bounced against the hinges and nearly flipped closed again. But the creature inside was so fast, she still would have made it out. She sprang up and over, landing in front of me, her knees bent in a crouch like she was ready for a championship wrestling match. I shouldn’t have been surprised. Hadn’t I sprung out of the grave at William in just this way? Well, maybe not in
exactly
this way.

“Hello again,” I said, rubbing my hands together. “How’re you feeling? Fit as a fiddle and ready for love?” She stared at me, round-eyed and waiting, her arms out to her sides, fingers flexing. Her skin had a leathery and sallow look. I hated to be critical at a time like this, but this was not a good look for her. Her hair looked lifeless and dry, her breasts shrunken, eyes dull. There was nothing about her that seemed like it had ever been alive. An animated corpse, something out of a zombie movie, the living dead is what she looked like.

“Not too talkative this evening, huh? That’s fine. Now, you understand what’s happening, right? I mean, William said he talked to you about being made into . . . one of us.” I paused for a response, or at least a reaction. Nothing. She just kept on staring.

“Okay, well, there’s one more step you have to go through and that’s—”

She shoved me so hard I staggered backward until the back of my knees struck a giant ottoman. I fell back on it, my arms splayed out to my sides. Shari was on me like an animal, straddling my hips.

“Hey, now,” I said. This was going to be interesting.

“Hey, yourself.” She grabbed either side of my shirt and ripped it open. I heard the buttons ricochet off the opposite wall.

At least she could talk again. That was a relief. “I’m glad you’ve found your tongue.”

“Yeah? Now you’re about to find it.” She leaned over me and pressed her mouth to mine. Her tongue teased my lips apart and went to find my tonsils. Her hands went to find something else.

I managed to get my mouth disentangled long enough to say, “Let me help you, hon. Now, don’t rip that belt. It’s real alligator and that NASCAR belt buckle is brand-new. I had a friend pick it up at the last big race at Hampton.” I wrestled her for control of the belt and finally got it open. I planted my boot heels against the rug and raised my hips off the ottoman before she could rip my jeans apart. They had just gotten nice and worn, the way I like them.

She thrust my jeans down to my knees, and I somehow managed to slide out of my boots and shake the jeans off completely. Then she made a grab for my privates. I caught her hand in my fist. “Be gentle with the jewels, girl. Simmer down, now.” The way she was going, I was afraid she’d crush the old meat and two veggies like walnuts.

In one swift motion, she twisted her hand in my fist, gripped my wrist, and pinned both arms above my head, bringing her breasts against my face. By this time I must admit I was getting interested. There’s nothing like a pair of nuzzling nipples to get your attention. She gyrated her hips against my johnson and it responded. As soon as she felt it get hard, she mounted me in one swift, hard stroke and began to ride me like a stallion.

Gasping for breath, I looked up at her. She was changing before my very eyes. Her skin was becoming rosy, her lips moist and dewy, her breasts full and round. Her hair bounced in a most attractive way as she thrust her hips. She leaned her head back and the flesh at her throat seemed to plump and become soft and supple-looking. When she tilted her head back down to me, her eyes were alive and dilated.

She pressed another needy kiss on my lips, opened her mouth, and sucked on my tongue. I thought about my earlier kiss with Connie and felt guilty, but not guilty enough to stop kissing Shari. After all, it was part of the job now. That made me think of something else, though. As much as a man could think at a time like this. What would my relationship with Shari be like? What would I be to her? Would she have to do what I told her—the way it was with William and me? The possibilities made my head spin even more than it was twirling already. Maybe there’d finally be someone who belonged to
me.
Maybe I wouldn’t have to be alone anymore. I hoped she was nice. I hoped she’d like me.

I wrenched my mouth free. “Do you like NASCAR?” I asked.

Still pumping away, she looked at me like she was trying to make sense of the question. Finally, she said, “Isn’t that sweet. You’re trying to make it last, aren’t you?”

Now it was my turn to be puzzled. “What?”

“I’ve heard of guys making themselves think about baseball. But I guess thinking about racing would do just as well.”

“No, that’s not it. I mean—oh, never mind.” Plenty of time to get into turn-ons and turn-offs later. I thought about Connie again. I really dug her, but if she and I got together, she’d eventually find out what I was. And she probably couldn’t deal. I mean, who could? It was for the best. Really.

I took one breast in each hand and kneaded them gently. Oh, yeah. This was more like it. She was coming alive, in a matter of speaking, right on top of me. She seemed to be enjoying it, too. She ran her fingers over the muscles of my chest, tugging none too gently on the short curlies there. Hey, why hadn’t I been making female vampires for years?

She began a little keening cry. It wasn’t the same as the noises she’d been making in the coffin. Not atall. This was the sound of a vital human female in the throes of passion, not of everlasting torment. I put my arm around her back and lifted her enough to flip her over. Then I plunged into her again with a moan of my own. We were both getting close to the brink. She wrapped her legs around me and arched her back.

I picked up the pace and she urged me on and on until we both came at the same instant. Think colored lights, bells, whistles, thunder, lightning, the Daytona freakin’ 500, the whole nine yards. Her body bucked and writhed. Way to go, Jackie.

She relaxed, deeply and completely. Isn’t that what good sex will do for you? I held her against me, catching my breath. Then I realized she didn’t have any breath at all.

Something was wrong. Very wrong.

“Shari? Darlin’?” I raised myself above her and looked into her eyes. The beautiful honey-colored irises were gone. They were still dilated, but now they were fixed and staring. This was not post orgasmic relaxation.

This was death.

I put my hands underneath her shoulders and shook her. “Come back!” I pleaded. I stood above her, panicked. What was I to do? I tilted her head back, pinched her nose, and gave her mouth-to-mouth resuscitation. There was no response. Heart massage? I punched her sharply in the chest with the heel of my hand. What was I thinking? A heartbeat didn’t animate vampires. What
did
animate vampires? Whatever it was, I would’ve given my life force to Shari right then if I could have, but I had no idea how.

I stood over her, pulling at my hair with my hands, wracking my brain. This wasn’t supposed to happen. Five minutes ago, she’d been vibrant and lifelike. Now I could see her flesh starting to dry out. The color in her cheeks was gone. She was dying all over again. That was something you should only have to do once.

Where the hell was William when I needed him? What had he said? All coherent thought left my brain. And even as I panicked, I knew it was no use. Even if I figured out that I’d zigged when I should have zagged, nothing was going to reverse what had just happened. As usual when the chips were down and I really had to think hard, my brain did what it does best and kicked out a useless piece of trivia. I thought about that old line from
The Wizard of Oz.
She wasn’t merely dead. She was really most sincerely dead.

I sank to my knees and bellowed in rage and pain. In the name of all that was unholy, what had I done? A couple of days ago, this beautiful young woman had been going about her life. And now thanks to a couple of evil bloodsuckers, she was dead, a husk, decaying before my eyes. I helped kill somebody who didn’t deserve to be killed. I was well and truly a vampire. Bully for me.

I realized I was sobbing and rubbed at my eyes with the heels of my hands. I couldn’t remember the last time I’d cried. Was I crying for Shari or was I crying because—after more than a hundred years—reality had finally hit me?

I was a monster.

Somewhere in my just discovered deviant consciousness I became aware that a human had entered the vault.

“Jack! I heard you scream. What happened?” It was Melaphia.

“She died!” I looked up at Melaphia from the edge of the ottoman. “Is there anything you can do? Say a chant or a prayer or . . . something?”

Melaphia went to Shari’s body, put her thumb and forefinger against her throat, and looked into her eyes. She laid her fingers gently onto Shari’s eyelids and closed them. “No, Jack. There’s nothing I could have done even if I’d been right here.”

She stood in front of me and took my face in her slender brown hands. I’d known Melaphia since the night of her birth, helped to raise her. We were both untroubled by my nakedness, but I reached for my jeans anyway, dragging them into my lap. “What did I do wrong? Why did she die?”

Melaphia sat down next to me and put her arm around my shoulders. “I’ve heard that this happens sometimes. I don’t think anybody knows why. Many people die in the process of becoming blood drinkers. Men and women, but especially the women. It’s nothing you did wrong. Believe me. I know it’s hard, but don’t blame yourself.”

I leaned my stubbly cheek against her smooth, fragrant one. Melaphia knew everything there was to know about the mysterious twilight space between life and death. She was fluent in all things unearthly and unfathomable, comprehended things that humans weren’t supposed to. Knowledge and power that should have belonged only to divine beings were her birthright. Wisdom beyond age was her legacy.

I looked down at her hand holding mine. One of my tears fell onto her fine skin. The tear was tinged pink with the blood that animates my body, and I felt revulsion that it had touched her. For the first time I was ashamed of what I was. I hung my head and wiped at my eyes with the back of my other hand. To think I’d been silly enough to fantasize in those few exquisite moments about having another creature like myself to call my own. Stupid, stupid Jack.

“Don’t cry. Please don’t. This too shall pass.” Melaphia brought her palm to my face again and kissed my cheek lightly. I could smell her clean, perfect humanity. I shrugged away from her touch, not wanting to soil her.