Bloodseeker - Colin's Conquest Part 20

From high above, Colin watched with detached curiosity as several small naked men dipped their fingers in a flat wooden bowl and smeared reddish brown coloring on their bodies. How very strange that none of their scents, or that of the adornments they spread on their bodies reached him. He could smell nothing at all, and why could he not feel the ground beneath his feet? He looked down.

Nothing there, nothing beneath him at all! He hovered there like a spirit! Was this death?

Through a haze he noticed a great commotion below and even as one of the dead this demanded his full attention. The excitement centered on a ma.s.sive stone altar of sorts, built atop a dirt mound in the middle of a native village. Many village people gathered there surrounding two human bodies on short platforms of dark stone. Just lovely to witness a human sacrifice as his first after- death experience. Closer he drifted, parting the haze to see the faces of the victims.

NO!!! He stared down at his own unclothed body and that of his beloved child, Benjamin! His arms and Ben's also hung like limp useless limbs, off the sides of the platforms. Deep furrows that sliced through veins and muscle dripped blood into shallow troughs placed on the ground under their bodies. An abomination against him and his kin! A terrible shock coursed through him freezing his soul into sharp painful splinters of ice. Without warning he began to fall, plummeting towards the platform without sound and without tangible sensation. Then, as quick as he awakened to find himself a spirit, he once again lost sentience, his formless psyche dissolving in the wind.

The natives cut open the veins of the deities again and again, bleeding them of their power and s.e.xual prowess.

Swimming up through the darkness, once more Colin awoke. Incredible pain crawled through his body, boring through every vein and artery like a subterranean rodent, chisel-like teeth extended, talons sharpened, clawing it's way through the soil to form a tunnel where one did not exist before. The smell of blood surrounded him, his own blood and the blood of his child and he fought to maintain his composure. The memory of his out of body experience remained fresh in his mind and he knew without a doubt that he and Ben still lay on the sacrificial altars. Listening for the natives, he remained still, eyes closed, until he felt sure that no others occupied the mound ... but he was far from dead ... no, very much alive and they would pay for what they did to him and his cherished offspring.

With caution, he cracked his eyelids and surveyed the area. He dared not underestimate this ancient tribe again. Alone on the altar mound, time to make his move. The screaming pain dimmed enough that he tried to remove himself from the stone altar, but he was too weak to sit up. The tribe bled him almost dry. Looking down at his arms, he gasped. Long horrendous furrows marred his flesh where they continued slashing him when his body fought back and stopped the bleeding. He had to see what they did to Ben even though just turning his head seemed almost too much to do.

Ben! Oh his Benjamin was in trouble. His ashen skin and slack features ... a perfect parody of death. The blood ceased to drip from his terrible wounds and his body no longer even attempted to heal on it's own. He must help. He must! His temper grew. If these natives killed his young one, they would all perish tonight, by his hand, he vowed!

Desperation and love for his child gave Colin the strength to rise, roll off the low altar and land on his hands and knees on the sticky rock between them. One hand made a m.u.f.fled smack as it hit the edge of the bloodletting trough but he caught it before it clattered back down and made even more noise. No doubt that the village would have sentries posted even if they a.s.sumed that the two captured beings were dead. Sure enough he picked up the sound of someone approaching, walking with not quite silent footsteps to sneak up on him, but no human would take him unawares, not ever again.

Sprawled out in the sticky gore under the altar, he waited for the sentry to find him. Senses tuned in to every move the native made, muscles tensed ready to spring, fangs descended, Colin waited, like death lurking beyond the bend for all humankind. He did not have the strength to go after the blood he desperately needed. He would have to wait for his sustenance to arrive on it's own. His wait was short.

A stick poked into his back but he did not flinch, did not move at all. Fingers dug into his shoulder as the native struggled to turn him over and look into his face. Colin's hand shot out, a cannonball leaving his shoulder, and gripped the struggling man by the throat. His fury exploded when he caught the scent of Ben's blood smeared on this one's chest and arms and he yanked him down to the stone floor and pinned him there.Pure rage fueled him with a strength he did not know he possessed and he let this native see his impending death in the mouth of the creature they desecrated, drained and left for dead. Growling like the legendary wild cat, he drove his fangs into the painted tribesman's shoulder and drank a long drought of life restoring blood. Pungent blood, he gulped down, full of ritual plants ingested during the ceremony held as they bathed in his mythical blood. Barbaric and ancient though these people were, he found no pity for them in his soul. He drove his fangs over and over into this one, causing as much pain as possible as he fed and grew stronger with every swallow.

Colin growled again, low, insistent, calling to another sentry whom he sensed crouched in the woods nearby. He let the body of the dead native roll down the hill to land with a dull wet thump at the feet of the other watchman who made his way to help his fallen brother.

With horror, he lifted his eyes from the dead man to the top of the holy mound and there stood, on his own two feet, the most recent of the village sacrifices! Like one of the G.o.ds he towered there, eyes glowing the pale color of bittersweet fruit, waiting for him. But he would not go. The G.o.d lifted his arm and beckoned to him, his wicked, fanged smile evident in the moonlight that beamed down on the altar. He wished to flee, but instead, his feet shuffled toward the G.o.d on their own volition. He couldn't stop himself. It must be the G.o.d's blood carrying him toward his own end, the blood he anointed himself with during the ceremony, and it was this blood that he would die for. His frenzied thoughts raced round and round his mind. Frantic, he tried to wipe the dried blood from his face. In the G.o.d's clutches, he cried for the manhood he would never experience but it was a merciful G.o.d this time for he brought death without pain.

Colin felt the young man's remorse and for this he felt a brief moment of pity, but not enough to let this one live and he still planned to kill all the humans wearing any remnant of his or Ben's blood. d.a.m.n them all for this defilement.

Full of strength now, he bent over Ben, horrified by his appearance ... but he still lived and breathed, close to death, but still alive nonetheless.

"Benjamin ... hang on to this life. I am here now. You must drink to live. Swallow what I give you."

Colin bit into his own wrist and shoved the bleeding wound into Ben's mouth. The young one did not respond, the blood running out of his mouth to puddle in his ear before it dripped to the rough stone surface of the altar. Bending to Ben's ear once more, he spoke louder his voice beseeching and plaintive.

"Ben, swallow at once. You must fight. Do it, do it now!" Colin slapped his immobile face hard enough to leave fingerprints then pulled Ben's mouth open again, tore his own wrist and shoved the gushing wound between Ben's teeth. His breath caught in his throat, waiting ... then Ben's tongue moved, weak and slow across Colin's torn flesh. Then, he swallowed.

"Yes, yes that's it, take it, take more. Drink, young one, drink." His voice spurred Ben on and he quickened, swallowing several more times, drawing on the wound, breathing through his nose as he drank the life restoring blood from his creator.

A bird called, it's voice stilted and uncommon for the night.

"Hurry Ben. Humans approach."

Two more spotters made their way to the sacred mound. Of course they received no answer to their call and knew something was amiss. They were just what the two wounded ones needed to heal. Colin captured them both, as easy as netting a b.u.t.terfly. They also forfeited their lives when they chose to smear his blood on their filthy skin. Killing one of them by snapping his neck, he let him roll to the bottom of the mound with the other dead tribesmen then drug the remaining human by the throat over to his crippled child. Choking him just long enough for him to lose consciousness, he a.s.sured that this one would not escape then he held him to Ben's mouth and hoped that he had the strength to sink his fangs.

Ben's nostrils flared as he inhaled the scent of prey, mingled with the blood of his creator. He needed no prompting. He sank his teeth into the offered throat and drained the man. As soon as he withdrew his fangs, Colin removed the body and Ben opened his eyes.

Smoldering brown eyes danced above him and he fought the dizziness that a.s.sailed him by squeezing his eyes shut for a moment then trying again. Colin's gaze bored into him, his concern obvious even in this darkness. He smiled and lifted his head for a moment to search their surroundings before he met his eyes once again.

"Are you able to rise?"

Ben had no voice to answer with, but he managed to mouth the words to Colin, I think so. With Colin's help, Ben rolled from the platform, a grimace on his face as he noted his savaged limbs. It appeared that the wounds started the healing process from Colin's powerful infusion though he wondered how his creator fared. Colin kept his feelings well hidden most of the time, though Ben did detect an underlying, simmering rage in him that he knew was directed at the villagers. They would pay not only for the blood they'd stolen, but also for duping Colin. This was something that Ben didn't even think possible, but they had indeed been tricked into thinking that they found the people they sought.

"Come, Benjamin, we have many debts to repay and you need blood. Glancing down at Ben's naked form, he smiled. "And we both need something to cover our gleaming white skin."

Searching the surrounding rainforest, he followed the scent of dried immortal blood until he found and dispatched them all. More members of this tribe hid deep in the forest and he thought of killing them too, but his rage cooled as his body a.s.similated their blood and now all he wanted was to leave this esoteric place and go home. He took this disaster as a sign that he was not supposed to find the chameleon people and that magical potion to make Joanna forget. No, all he wanted to do now ... find her and make sure she fared well.

Finding appropriate clothing was a problem. The natives wore none. Trekking through the woods nude did not appeal to him, not in his human form, but he had no other. Perhaps one day he would learn the trick of shape shifting, but for right now, he and Ben would have to make their way back to a civilized village with no clothing, no shoes, no hat, nothing.

Ben gained strength with every victim and felt almost normal again, even his humor returned little by little. The two of them walking naked through the forest would be funny to just about anyone, except maybe Colin. Colin's scowl seemed a permanent fixture on his face as he made his way with brisk steps through the Amazon jungle. He didn't seem the least bit concerned about his lack of clothing, his footfalls just as sure as if he had on his hiking boots. Ben imitated his creator's movements until he took a step that squished.

"c.r.a.p"! Ben moaned as he picked up his foot, shaking it and moving his toes about trying to get the matter out from in between them.

Colin turned to see what his problem was, wrinkled his nose and stared at Ben's soiled foot. "Exactly."

"What?" Ben asked before he realized what Colin meant. All out of quick comebacks at the moment, he just stood there with who knows what kind of animal dung squished between his toes. He wanted to clean his foot and searched around for leaves or something to wipe it with.

"Why bother? I stepped in it too and you do not see me whining about it." Colin glanced down at his own vulnerable body. "Just try to protect the vital areas and don't worry about your feet. They will wash." Ben stared back at him, confused, but he said no more. Now would be a great time for internal genitalia, but he thought it wise not to mention that to his young one. He could just picture Ben running through the jungle, cradling his p.e.n.i.s in both hands to protect it. No, that was not something he wanted to see at all. Bad enough that he had to see Ben's entire sky clad form without him clutching his privates. It would already be very difficult to get his dignity back after being fooled by the tribe, stripped, drained and left for dead on an altar. Good thing Ben had the intelligence to never mention the incident.

With the strength gained from their many kills they made excellent time leaving the rainforest, only stopping a few times for brief periods of rest. Ben never complained and for this Colin felt eternally grateful. His mood grew blacker than he could ever remember and it frightened him for he knew if provoked he would not hesitate to lash out with deadly force at anybody or anything.

Danger oozed from his very pores and not even the birds dared to make a sound as Colin and Ben pa.s.sed.

When they approached the first real town, under the cloak of night, few humans milled about so breaking into a clothing store would be simple. Colin longed for a long hot shower but they could not check into a hotel naked so he had no choice but to choose clothing first. The small village sold clothing in the market places and Colin made his way through the deserted market to find clothing to fit himself and Ben. Anything to cover themselves would have to do for now.

Ben tried not to laugh. But, the sight of Colin in that silk tourist's shirt cracked him up. Around and around the shirt pranced dancing bananas with spindly legs and bright red cartoon parrots! His clothing looked just as garish, but on Colin, well it was beyond hilarious. The laughter came and when it did, it came in a deluge. He laughed till he choked and tears poured down his face but still he couldn't stop. Colin glared and still he laughed. Colin moved closer, glaring down at him and still he laughed, his voice carrying throughout the empty market and bouncing back to them. He could no longer even see through the tears in his eyes so if Colin raised his arm, about to kill him, at least he wouldn't know ahead of time.

A strange sound filled his ears, a deep, rich chuckle, foreign to him but still well known. Colin laughed with him.

The absurdity of it all got to him as well and he laughed with Ben. The laughter lightened the oppressing black rage that strangled his soul and the rest of the trip home seemed much less daunting. Maybe these outrageous clothes weren't so bad after all he thought ... until he started walking and the bamboo flip flops that adorned his feet fell off. Colin realized that his biggest trial would be wearing these clothes and acting natural in them, not almost being destroyed by natives.

Walking into the small lodge like he owned the world, Colin headed straight to the small cane desk, his sandals slapping across the floor in uneven rhythm. The dark skinned clerk looked up and smirked.

"If you say one word about my clothing, I will be forced to kill you." Colin's flowing voice was low but restrained like water behind a dam. The clerk's eyes widened, his smirk gone in an instant. Anything he had been about to say, or even think, disappeared with the smirk. His jaw taut with fear, body immobile, he stared at the formidable being, even as he pierced his own tongue with his clenched molars.

Colin reached over the motionless human, snagged a key from the filthy nail studded board, motioned with a toss of his head for Ben to follow and shuffled off to find his room. He stopped outside the door, frowning down at his feet. The bamboo sandals so uncomfortable between his toes that he thought just strapping bamboo stalks to his feet would feel better.

Standing behind him, Ben followed his creator's gaze to see what caused that frown. Must be the shoes though he didn't understand why. They looked fine on Colin's feet. He didn't have ugly feet like so many men. He kept his nails trimmed. His skin looked smooth and his calves muscular, sprinkled with soft-looking black hair that thinned as it reached his ankles.

"Stop staring at my feet."

The soft spoken reprimand startled Ben and he had no idea how long he stared, captivated by the pattern of spa.r.s.e hair growth across the top of Colin's feet. Had he ever even seen Colin's bare feet before? He didn't think so. The entire time they ran through the rainforest all he thought of were his own unprotected feet and other exposed body parts.

"I hope this is not the discovery of a fetish, Benjamin."

Crimson tide washed up his neck and splashed across his face before he could open his mouth to deny Colin's accusation. His voice almost squeaked when he did manage to utter his denial.

"Of course not!"

Colin's chuckle rumbled deep in his chest, the sepulchral roar of distant thunder that tickled Ben's soul. He smiled and shook his head, meeting his creator's mirth filled deep brown eyes.

"Funny, Creator." He sc.r.a.ped his teeth over his bottom lip and repeated himself. "Funny, very funny." A flippant response would just not come to him and he drawled out the last 'funny' trying to think of one then just gave up and fell silent.

The door swung open when Colin tried to work the key into the rusted lock. No need to lock the door anyway since the entire end of the room lay more or less open to the jungle. A half wall built out of thin native trees and mosquito netting separated the lodge from the outdoors. This would be nice to those tourists that wanted to pretend they stayed in the Amazon jungle but still have a comfortable bed to sleep in and a real shower to cleanse them.Colin was beyond caring. All he wanted was a shower and a good day's sleep so they could start back home tomorrow night.

They would be home very soon, and he doubted there would be any more safari trips for a very long time, if ever.

Ben spoke up, as if he read his mind. "We won't do this again ... will we?"

Bamboo sandals sailed through the air, flung from Colin's feet like they had just bitten him. Running his fingers through his tangled hair he filled his lungs and released the breath in a long whoosh before turning to Ben.

"It is highly unlikely that we will return to this place, or any place like it, for any reason whatsoever."

Nineteen

Nothing else happened to threaten their departure from Brazil. They had an uneventful trip back to Texas, though Colin stayed to himself ... remote, quiet, subdued. Ben couldn't remember two words spoken by him during the plane ride. Ben drove the sleek black car toward home, his mind dwelling on their escape from death at the hands of the Amazon tribe. His infallible creator fell for their ruse. How could that happen? Why did the tribal members bathe in their eternal blood ... did they know about his kind before they met, before they baited the two hungry blood seekers with their bleeding sacrificial maiden?

Ben swerved the car, startling Colin out of his reverie and he c.o.c.ked his head as he stared at his aberrant young chauffeur.

"I didn't want to run over that creature, Colin. Don't glare at me like that. I do know how to drive!" Ben mouthed off before he thought about it. He wished to take his crabby words back but too late. Keeping his eyes glued to the road ahead, he tried to see Colin out of the corner of his eye ... tried to see if the powerful fist aimed for his head. He saw nothing, no reaction from Colin and he relaxed.

Colin's preoccupation, his pensive mood, no doubt because of the little temptress, Joanna, kept him from disciplining his smart- mouthed pupil. Ben missed the formidable Colin, the one he knew before this near disaster in the jungle.

"Watch yourself, young one."

Pain ... Colin's broad hand closed on the back of his neck, then his fingers released and trailed down Ben's quivering shoulder before returning to his own lap.

Sucking in his breath, swallowing with an audible gulp, Ben nodded. Those deadly fingers on the back of his neck, he still felt their lingering warmth, their awesome strength, even though they no longer touched him. His creator had returned, in full force.

Ben drove the car into the hidden car blind careful to avoid the new growth that sprang up since they last used the blind. Several of those big th.o.r.n.y weeds that he called "ugly sticks" poked up on the sides of the blind and they would scratch the finish on Colin's car if he drove too close. Ah, so good to be home and worried about nothing more than the paint on the car!

Colin opened the door, took a deep breath, inhaling the fresh dawn air and the fragrant scent of the pines then he slid out of the car with the fluid grace of a jungle cat. Ben left the car in a rush, ripped the ugly sticks out of the ground and stacked them along with other leafy brush behind the car to conceal it from any human trespa.s.sers.

"It is good to be home." Colin hefted his bag to his shoulder handing the other to Ben. Eager to reach the cabin, they took off together through the woods at a quick sprint. At this pace they would reach their home in less than an hour. Not even halfway there, a sense of dread struck Colin in the gut. His stomach clenched and his throat tightened to the point of cutting off his air, forcing him to stop, dead in his tracks. Heart pounding with the power of an earth-shattering quake, he tried to locate the source of his distress.

"What is it? Colin what's wrong?" His creator's face blanched, his breathing ragged as he dropped to his knees on the pine needle strewn ground, his bag beside him, forgotten.

"I do not know, my young one." Colin gasped, drawing a noisy breath. "I do not know." He steadied himself, drawing up one knee to stand. "Something is amiss, something here in the thicket."

Standing again he c.o.c.ked his head, listening. Nothing but normal morning forest melodies. His nose picked up no anomalous scents either, but deep in his soul he felt dread ... he must find the source. Taking slow, measured steps he kept his senses on full alert.

The sun breaking through the trees hurt his eyes, he thought about waiting for nightfall, but that would be too late. A sense of urgency spurred him on when they came upon the creek, and they followed its winding banks through the woods. His trusting pupil followed him, carrying both his own bag and Colin's discarded one, not saying a word but worry etched his youthful features.

Picking up speed as they traveled deeper into the thicket, they chased some mysterious but urgent summons. Colin gasped and broke into a run. Ben couldn't keep up, only hearing a voice drifting back to him, like the last brown leaf drifting down from the treetops."Joannaaaa..."

Ben flung the bags from his shoulders and gave chase when he heard the whispered word, Joanna. He should have known that any panic instilled in his creator lead straight to that woman.

The fluttery heartbeat brought Colin more agony than the people of the Amazon and their blood-letting ceremony. Oh merciful heavens she was dying, maybe only hours left to live.

Must get to her, must. He found her moments later, lying on her back in the cold water of the creek. No clothing covered skin the color of winter twilight ... appalling, this color of death. With infinite tenderness, Colin lifted her slight body from the water and held her close to his chest.

He wanted her gone, but only to keep her safe. Not this way. No! She appeared comatose, for all purposes already dead. Nothing he could do to save her now.

Ben arrived and saw the horrifying scene. "What has happened?"

"She is dying. Joanna is dying."

"You can save her ... give her your blood, Colin. You can do this. You can still return her to her world afterwards. You can!"

Colin embraced Joanna's body, stroking her wet hair and caressing her clammy face but he made no move to feed her his blood.

"It is too late for even my blood to bring her around." He shook his head from side to side, muttering. "There is but one way to save her now and that is to bring her over. To risk the metamorphosis.

"What risk? What risk is there now? She'll die if you don't try it, Creator. Do you want her to die?" Colin stared down into her still face, not answering, deaf to Ben's pleas. He moved closer and shouted in Colin's ear. "DO YOU WANT HER TO DIE?"

Colin turned his head glaring at Ben. Burnished black eyes bored into him. His pupils dilated to cover his entire iris, his nostrils flared, fang teeth just touching his bottom lip making small cuts there.

"I do not." His voice grating, as menacing as his stony features. Bending his head down he gave Joanna a gentle kiss on the mouth, the blood from his small wounds smearing onto her parched lips and disappearing. Sharp fang teeth further punctured his own lip until the blood flowed onto her lips. He forced it into her mouth with his tongue. The vital blood had a life of its own and it sought her pores and membranes for easiest access to her blood stream. She didn't stir, showing no signs of life other than the weak rise and fall of her chest. Her skin and hair stank of the creek, ancient sediment, primitive one-celled plant life and as always in the thicket, decay.

This limp ashen body looked like little more than a grotesque parody of his Joanna. How ironic to find her this way when he went to so much trouble to rid her of the memories ... to rid her of him. He could not allow her to die. He would not allow her to die.

Unb.u.t.toning his shirt, he held her close against his bare skin and wrapped his shirt as far as it would reach around the two of them.

Running through the thicket carrying Joanna in this state would be difficult but if he did not run, she may not live to reach the cabin.

Shielding her from the bulk of the tangled vines and thorns to the best of his ability, he ran. Her dangling legs slapped against his as he ran, almost tripping him at one point and forcing him to throw her over his shoulder rather than try to warm her with his body.

Ben arrived at the cabin ahead of him and already had the door unlocked. Colin ran straight in and placed Joanna in the tub, turning on the warm water to help raise her body temperature. Even as her condition stabilized her skin remained washed out, and Colin put his rusty medical skills to use, evaluating the situation. In addition to hypothermia she also suffered from severe dehydration. A miracle she survived at all!

Lifting her from the tub, he carried her to the bed and placed her on the towels Ben had already laid out. If Joanna could continue to hang on, maybe she would survive the change. He used another towel to dry the droplets from her skin, then wrapped up her hair turban style. Pulling the comforter up both sides of the bed he covered her nudity. He'd need Ben's help, but didn't want him to see her this way.The time had come. He could postpone it no longer.

"Benjamin." Colin called his protege with a low, weary voice.

Appearing at once, Ben held out Colin's black medical bag. Colin nodded to show his grat.i.tude, taking the bag from Ben's shaking hands.

"It will be all right. Joanna will be all right." He tried to rea.s.sure Ben, even though he didn't know if anything would ever be all right again Straddling her on the bed Colin bent to her throat, kissing her, nuzzling her, following her pulse with his tongue until he was aroused enough that his fangs descended. This was not how he imagined her transformation. The worry made him almost unable to strike, and he had to move fast before his fang teeth disappeared again. Dropping his head to her breast he drove his fangs into her flesh.

Her valiant heart pumped acrid blood to him and he guzzled it down, not spilling a single drop. In mere minutes Joanna's struggling heart sputtered then stopped. Colin threw back his head and with a deep breath a.s.similated her blood into his own, preparing himself to give it back.

Ben handed him the blade and with one deft arced cut he sliced his wrist open and held the b.l.o.o.d.y wound to Joanna's gaping mouth. The blood poured in, filling her mouth and maybe some drained down her throat, but a lot spilled back out and flooded the bed. A red stain spread across the comforter and soaked into the turban towel on her head.

"Dammit Joanna, come back to me!" He knew this might happen.

Prepared for this already, Ben wrapped rubber tubing around Colin's upper arm and reached back into the black bag for the syringe. He hoped he could hit the bulging vein in Colin's arm. Holding his breath, Ben jammed the huge needle through the skin and into the vein and watched it fill with dark blood ... he did it!