Savannah Vampire - The Vampire's Secret Part 3

"I can't go back. I promised Eleanor." But even as I spoke, Eleanor's essence seemed to thin. In the next blink of my eye, she disappeared-on her way back to her body. In the distance a slow rattling drumbeat sounded, like an alarm proclaiming her escape.

"She's made it," I said, relieved.

Shari simply stared at me.

"Captain, come back!" Melaphia said, louder this time.

I pushed to my feet. I was thinking of home and sweet Eleanor, but I could not find the words to say good-bye to Shari.

A look of profound sadness crossed her features as she stood and faced me. "Thank you for letting me rest." She searched the darkness with her uncanny amber eyes. "I hardly ever get the chance to sleep."

The light around Shari began to dim, a warning that the sh.e.l.ls were bringing me back to them. I fought the pull.

"No. I won't leave her here to suffer for eternity," I said to the call. "Lalee, help me."

As I began to float above Shari, the memory of my first glimpse of Lalee filled my sight.

The burial ground on one of the outer islands had no name back then. It was just a marshy field on the far side of the river, far enough away from the city to calm the fear of contagion. Flickering torches lit the fifty or so bodies that had been placed near the river in three long lines. The grave diggers, backs bent and voices low, worked day and night to shovel sand, clay, and sh.e.l.l and get the yellow fever victims in the ground. Clouds of burning sulfur hung in the air, and Lalee stood at the center, near the finished graves, holding her lantern and a branch from a weeping willow. A low keening wail disturbed the choking silence. I remembered then that Lalee had interceded in the name of Maman Brigitte, Guardian of Graves, to sing the restless spirits from the ground and into the air, sending them on home. Although mortal, Lalee's spirit was larger and more powerful than mine. Now I silently pleaded for her help.

As she had two hundred years before, Lalee sensed my presence and raised her gaze to mine. I saw love and command in her eyes. You can save her. Call on Kalfu, the loa of the crossroads. Her chant rose in volume and suddenly she tossed the willow branch across the years to me. There was nothing to do but catch it. In my hand, in this dark place, the branch itself sparked and flared with blue static fire and instantly I knew what to do. I raised my voice and joined Lalee's century-old chant as Shari sank to her knees before me.

Jack "Help me get him up," Melaphia ordered. "I tell you there's something wrong!"

I picked William up and moved him to the overstuffed chair, then raised his feet to rest on the ottoman. He was deadweight in my arms. Like a real corpse. He looked even deader than he did on those few occasions when I 'd seen him in daytime sleep.

There was something permanent-looking about this...deadness. I fought to control the panic rising in my chest. I had to be strong for Melaphia, who stood beside me, clasping her hands together as if in prayer. Her dark eyes were large and luminous with terror.

An awareness of Shari came over me suddenly, even stronger than the feeling I 'd had earlier when I'd been struck blind in my car. "Shari? Are you there?" Melaphia looked around. She felt the presence, too. My gaze followed hers to the far corner of the room. What started out looking like no more than a wisp of smoke began to take shape as Shari materialized.

I glanced at Mel. Her gaze was riveted to the spot where Shari...shimmered, for lack of a better word. So Melaphia saw her, too.

Shari looked different, in a good way. Her skin wasn't what you call rosy, but it glowed. Not with life, but with some force not of this world. What could that mean?

"Where's William?" Melaphia blurted. "Do you know where he is?"

"He's not here?" she asked. She looked around the room and when she turned her head, her hair moved in an unnatural way, like it was made of something alive. "He saved me," she said. "He and the Lady."

Melaphia gasped. Her hand went to her throat. "He's with Maman Lalee," she whispered. She turned and kneeled at William's side. He still looked more dead than I'd ever seen him. She took one of his hands in both of hers and began to chant in some ancient tongue. I returned my attention to Shari. If there was anything I could do for William, Melaphia would tell me, but I knew that there wasn't. My throat felt like somebody had stuffed a welding torch into my mouth, but again I fought off the panic.

Shari's eyes glowed like crystal nuggets held up to the sun, and her gaze lit on me. "Jack," she drawled, the corners of her sweet little mouth turning up in a smile that melted my heart. "It's so good to see you."

It's good to see the man that sent you to h.e.l.l? I wanted to ask. Guilt flooded me again when I remembered how I held her in this room, naked and vulnerable, held her while her life slipped away and her soul descended into h.e.l.l, or something close to it. All because I was deformed, different, poisoned. And ignorant.

"It's good to see you, too," I said awkwardly, like a guy greeting an old, jilted girlfriend at a cla.s.s reunion. "You look great."

How lame could I be? I bit my lip before I could ask her how she'd been.

"I'm free," Shari said simply. I glanced back at Melaphia. She'd squeezed her eyes shut to concentrate on her chant but opened them briefly to stare toward Shari. Her chanting did not stop.

"Free? You mean you're not just...visiting this time, like before? You don't have to go back to that bad place?" I looked at her glowing, beaming face and she nodded.

"Free," she repeated. "I get to go to a better place now, a place where they'll be kind to me and where I can rest."

That was it. That explained the difference in how she looked, how she glowed. She laughed and the sound was like music.

"That's right, Jack. You don't have to worry anymore. I'm fine now. And I forgive you."

I felt my eyes go all swimmy. Had I heard her right?

"You forgive me?" I asked dumbly.

"Yes."

"Thank you. You don't know what it means for me to hear you say that." Vampires have nightmares like everybody else. Shari and what she was going through were regular features during my dreams. NOW PLAYING, the marquee of my nightmare screamed, NO ONE TO WATCH OVER ME, STARRING SHARI, THE GIRL YOU SENT TO h.e.l.l. I shook my head to clear the thought.

"Where you're going-will you be able to visit from there, too?" The question just came out, I guess. Would a being made of goodness and light ever stoop to visit a vampire? As it was, Shari was just dropping by on her way out of town, you might say.

Was there more to it than that? She seemed to ponder the question seriously.

"I don't know. I'll try, though. I promise." I don't know why that should please me so, but it did. I felt myself wishing that she'd touch me. Not in a s.e.xual way or anything.

The cold, dead thing inside me was drawn to her warmth, her light, her love. That, I decided, was what she glowed with. I took a step toward her, but she began to fade.

"I have to go now, Jack."

"Wait! Tell me how they saved you." It was a stalling tactic and I expect she knew it.

"It was a chant, and some kind of power from the Lady. I felt myself rise up. I felt myself fill with the spirit of goodness. And then I was here."

Lalee had found a way to save Shari. Like she'd found a way to save me and William from Reedrek. I glanced at William, still lifeless. Surely she would not let him die. He who she loved so well.

I wondered at the strength of Lalee's power, and why she loved William so much. She would cross time itself to help him in this world and the next. Could she bring a vampire back to life someday? Real life. Had William ever asked her to try? Would he admit it if he had? Could anything be done for us at the moment of our final permanent death? Could she marshal the forces of nature and the otherworldly realms she dwelt in to help a demon like me if the need arose? I was a child of her blood now, just like William.

Would she pull out all the spiritual stops, so to speak, to pull me back from the brink of h.e.l.l? Was that even possible?

As immortals go, we vampires are obsessed with death. William once told me that the older the vampire, the more time he spent contemplating his eventual demise. It seemed ridiculous that creatures hundreds of years old should be so concerned about how and when they would return to dust. I guess a long existence must put you on edge, like an athlete on a long and unprecedented winning streak. When, where, why, and how would it all end?

And then there was what might happen after that. Go to h.e.l.l. Go straight to h.e.l.l. Do not pa.s.s Go. Do not collect two hundred dollars. That's what I had always been taught. We're vampires, after all. Our soul, that all -important ticket to the afterworld, was long lost. It was lost the moment we said yes to those age-old questions posed by a sire.

I remembered back to when William had asked me on the battlefield while my life's blood flowed out of me, mixing with the red clay soil.

Do you want to live? Will you serve me?

"Yes," I'd said. And the creature loomed over me, with the blood of the dying dripping from his fangs, and drained what was left of my life.

I had no idea what I was letting myself in for. If I 'd known, would I have said yes? Or would I have let the green-eyed stranger finish me off for good? I can't say how many times I've asked myself that question. But in the end, what did it matter?

Still, would the fact that I hadn't known that I was choosing the path of the demon score me any points with the big guy in the sky when the time of reckoning came? Who knew? It's not like there was a whole pa.s.sel of people I could go and ask.

Looking at Shari and thinking about Lalee and her well-spring of power-well, I began to wonder about the possibilities. Maybe being a good little vampire would score me some points with the folks who dealt out the after-death dorm a.s.signments. I tried to do good, after all. I only killed those who really, really deserved it. I tried to help Shari-never mind that I failed miserably. In fact, I tried to help people all I could. I picked them up from deserted highways when their cars broke down and delivered them to safety.

That had to count for something, didn't it? But still, I had no soul.

As I pondered these things, I noticed that Shari was getting more transparent. I reached out to touch her and my hand went right through hers. "Thank you for forgiving me," I said again. "I needed that."

"You're welcome. Be good, Jack." What was left of her moved closer to me and she reached out her arms. I couldn't feel her body, but when she hugged me I was bathed in the warmth that I had been longing for. For just an instant I felt human again. Tears began to wet my dead-cold cheeks.

And just like that, she was gone. I stood for a moment, still holding out my empty arms, and tried to memorize that warmth and light. Then I heard Melaphia's voice, breaking with emotion.

"Jack! He's back!"

William's eyes swam into focus and he took a deep breath. "Yes," he said. "Nothing's wrong, my girl." He reached up to squeeze Melaphia's hand, completely ignoring me.

Relieved, I figured I should check on Eleanor. I got to my feet, went to her coffin, and opened it. I'd seen Eleanor naked when I helped put her into the coffin; I 'd had a good long chance to check out her snake tattoo. But she was different now. She was practically glowing with pale l.u.s.ter and wild, fierce beauty. The colors of the snake running from her breast to belly had changed.

The d.a.m.n thing looked almost alive. I had a strong feeling that she was going to make it. Whatever crisis I had tapped into on the square was over.

The word voluptuous didn't begin to describe her. From her lovely face to her full b.r.e.a.s.t.s peaked with stiff, dusky nipples, down to her s.e.x and womanly hips and thighs, this creature clearly fulfilled any man's fantasy. She was surely in the right business- pleasure. I couldn't help but stare. And stare.

Her dark eyes flew open and locked onto mine with an unholy gleam. Her hand reached out with preternatural swiftness and latched onto my wrist. She needed something right then, but I wasn't the one to give it.

"Oh," I muttered. "No. Not me. It's..."

"Jack," I heard William begin in a rumbling half -whisper. "Get away from that coffin or I'll make you rue the day I ever plucked your sorry a.r.s.e off that battlefield."

William Blinded by ownership, I had the irrational urge to kill Jack where he stood. "Take your hands off her," I demanded. "She's mine."

"It's not me, it's her," Jack said, doing his best to pry Eleanor's fingers off his arm.

Once he was free, Eleanor forgot all about Jack. Her gaze riveted to me and she began a slow catlike climb out of her coffin.

Even her slight dessication didn't detract from the beauty of her bone structure. She was of me now, bone to blood, and I wanted her. The invitation to take her was so strong that it felt like smoking friction beneath my clothes. Scratching, arousing.

"Get out," I managed to Jack and Melaphia. In the next second, Eleanor had leaped across the distance between us and was tearing at my clothes. I caught both her hands in one of mine and drew them upward, halting her progress of ruining my shirt. She writhed, doing her best to rub against me. This mating ritual was a delicate dance-so much more than mere f.u.c.king. Our first consummation would not only a.s.sure her immortality; it would set the tone for our entire relationship. I was her vampire sire, yes, but there would be no slavery involved, no mind control, no abuse. I would be her teacher, and it wouldn 't do to let the pupil decide the lessons. The power she craved was mine to give, and although I was already aroused beyond stopping, I could not let her know it. I did my best to remain in control.

"Let me, let me, let meeeeee," she whined breathlessly. Her beautiful eyes, her hair, everything about her seemed to be muted except for the artful snake. The color of her skin was a cloudy, iridescent pearl. Quite suddenly, she used the leverage of her arms to swing her legs up and lock them around my waist. Twisting her hips to her own rhythm she rubbed her s.e.x into my belly, too high to do either of us much good. Athletic but unfulfilling.

"f.u.c.k me now," she snarled, accustomed, by her line of work, to being obeyed. I gave up trying to stop her. I released her arms, clamped one hand on each of her hips, lifted, then tossed her away. She landed on her back on the overstuffed chair next to my coffin. "Stay!" My order was so forceful that it must have penetrated Eleanor's frenzy. She seemed to catch on to the fact that I would be the one to orchestrate what happened next. But she would do everything in her power to hurry the process. With a look that Eve might have invented after her fall from grace, Eleanor licked her fingers, then plunged her hand down past the tail of the snake and between her legs. Sighing with pleasure, she worked the flesh there without any further a.s.sistance from me.

In the time required to unfasten my shirt and toe off my shoes she 'd reached her first o.r.g.a.s.m. Her moan of pleasure sent a thrumming demand along my skin, tightening my gut, making my c.o.c.k pulse. By this time, I 'm afraid, I was well past ciphering who was in charge of whom. I let my pants slide to the floor and covered her, pinning her down with the weight of my larger body and my throbbing erection. Shoving her busy hand out of the way, I entered her with a bull-like thrust.

I'm sure it sounded like I was killing her, but a sweeter death has not yet been invented. I slid into her again and again, while she wailed in unison with each thrust, and I could feel her brand -new vampiric body softening beneath mine. In reaction, my body gathered for the power exchange. Eleanor climaxed two more times before her warm, tight friction sucked me over the edge into a paralyzing o.r.g.a.s.m of my own. Locked together as her body milked mine, I didn 't notice she was nuzzling my neck. Without warning, she sank her newly transformed fangs into my skin, wanting it all...everything. With a great deal of effort I pulled out, breaking the suction at each end.

"Don't make me hurt you," I warned.

Eleanor sighed and stretched, looking pleased, not cowed in the least. "Who knows?" she whispered demurely. "I might like being hurt by you."

The mere words made my c.o.c.k twitch and harden again. As much as I would resist the admission, even as I abhorred violence among offspring, I could still be turned on by the s.a.d.i.s.tic and forbidden.

"I find pleasure a worthy goal. And I'm all for variety being the spice of life." With that I pushed to my feet, dragging her up with me and around the back of the chair. She slid her arms to encircle my neck and stepped into me, but I kept her at a distance.

Turning her to face the chair I used my hands to arouse her again, sliding over her b.r.e.a.s.t.s, rubbing, kneading, pinching. As her breath quickened I moved lower, fondling her s.e.x, sliding fingers into the slippery wetness there and circling her most sensitive center. When she began to whimper and squirm for more, I stopped. Shifting my arm around her waist, I lifted her from the floor so I could whisper against her ear.

"This is the sum total of what you'll get from me in the future if you ever again try to bite me without permission."

I shoved her forward until her face rested on the cushioned seat, her lovely derriere raised to the perfect level and open to my whim. I clamped a hand on the back of her neck like a stallion might use his teeth to hold a mare, then pumped into her, employing her body as nothing more than a tool to satisfy my c.o.c.k.

The satisfaction was of the hair-raising variety.

Eleanor screamed once and the choking, fearful sound of it set off a nearly cataclysmic chain reaction in my body. I plunged into her faster and faster, coming with a newly discovered vengeance so different, and so intense, that a shimmer of unease arrived along with the greedy pleasure.

I felt empty but oh so satisfied. I'd expected the sense of emptiness, as I'd just given Eleanor a sustaining dose of my power. I'd a.s.sured her immortality. But the other wicked pleasure that came along with the ride was a first for me. A crack in a door that I had never noticed before.

Certainly in the past I'd been cruel-hunting, killing humans. But it had been the anger I was courting-the sweet among the meat. And yes, my prey had been afraid of me and of the certain death they found in my eyes.

Eleanor was different. When she was human, she had trusted me not to go too far. She only dreamed the fantasy of what I could do if I wished. But now, she who must be obeyed was no longer human, mortal, or weak. She had no reason to fear death anymore. Yet for this one instant she'd feared me. She knew what I was, and loved me still, but now I'd shown her that I could hurt her at my whim. It had surprised us both.

"You need to feed," I said, recovering. I retrieved my ripped shirt from the floor, drew her up, and helped her into it. She rubbed her neck where I had gripped, her eyes holding questions I wasn't ready to answer. Settling her on a stool near the bar, I sorted through the bags of blood in the refrigerator and brought out one of the larger ones. She watched me with a baleful gaze as I bit into the bag and brought it to her mouth. "Drink: you'll feel better."

She covered the tear in the bag with her lips and drank greedily, eyes closed in concentration. The blood oozed out, dripping down her chin, making wet red splotches on her b.r.e.a.s.t.s, soaking into the linen of my shirt. She downed half of the contents before coming up for air.

Her eyes were regaining their sparkle, her skin plumping and smoothing-her mouth...wet with blood. Unable to resist, I leaned down and kissed her lightly, then deeper, sucking blood. She responded with lips and tongue before pulling back slightly. Holding my gaze, she tipped the IV bag up and squeezed more of the contents into her mouth. The overflow spilled down her chin like a slow-moving lava flow. At least it looked that way to me-sinuous and mesmerizing. I took the lure and set to work licking and sucking it from her skin. When my teeth grazed her neck she moaned. I heard her desire as clearly as if she'd spoken it.

Bite me...

Not yet, sweet, I answered silently. Not in the first seven days of your making. But soon...

Jack Turns out, fear makes me hungry. I opened the refrigerator and foraged for blood. I found a plastic package, checked the expiration date, and closed the fridge door. "I don't even want to know what happened down there before we came in."

"Yes," Melaphia said, seating herself before the computer once more. "And I don't want to think about what's going on down there now."

We both laughed and the tension was gone. I reached into the liquor cabinet for something with more of a kick and brought a bottle of mescal, the poor man's tequila, to the table. "Where are the twins?" Deylaud and Reyha were William's part-canine, part- human companions. They would be in their two-footed format since it was still dark out.

"Last I saw them, they were in the den watching a dog show on Animal Planet."

"I'm sure they were rooting for the sighthounds," I chuckled. "I thought I'd hang out until I have to get home. In case anything, you know, goes wrong."

"You worry me," Mel remarked, a crease furrowing her smooth, coffee-with-cream-colored brow.

"How's that?"

"You cut it too close going home. You're going to flame out one of these days when the sun comes up over the marshes and catches you on the road. I have nightmares that Connie will call me from the police station and tell me the police found your convertible in a ditch with nothing but ashes inside."

"Don't get your dreads in a knot," I said. "I'll be more careful. I promise." I reached over the table and patted her hand as it rested on the computer mouse. Melaphia was like a mother hen, worrying about William and me like she'd raised us instead of the other way around. I tore into the blood packet with my teeth, poured it into a highball gla.s.s, then reached for the salt and Tabasco in the middle of the table. After giving the c.o.c.ktail a few shakes of each, I finished filling the gla.s.s with imported Mexican mescal.

b.l.o.o.d.y Mary, McShane style.

Mel grinned. "Want a celery stick with that?" "Nah," I said, stirring the drink with my finger. "I'm not the veggie type, you know. I'd rather eat the worm."