The Font (6 page)

While her writhing did nothing to tax him physically, feeling her warmth
and
smelling her scent
intoxicated his senses.  T
he motions of her body against his
sought to
overc
o
me Elisha’s morals
again
.  Passion blinded him to everything but the softness of the woman in his arms.  Desire beckoned with brutality, entreating him to feed and fuck until she moved no more.
  He felt his civilized mind slip away, losing itself in the darkness of the night and his
vampire
soul.

* * * *

             
Four guards dragged a black-haired male vampire before Heriolf
. 
He was missing a shoe. 
They ignored
his swinging fists, one of which was clad in a white glove such as what a Victorian era man might have worn.  That he was weak in his attempts to fight was obvious
in the guards’ disinterest
.  They’d already had their share of fun with him by the look of his torn and disheveled clothing, also Victorian in style.

             
They tossed him unceremoniously at Heriolf’s feet.  “We found this one trying to get out through a window,” one told him. 

They hadn’t bothered to bind the would-be escapee.  First of all, they outnumbered the gangly man.  Second of all, Heriolf’s strength was legendary.  He required no real defense; the bodyguards were more an affectation, a show of superiority.  The sight of his
nine
huge, apish
guards – now cut to
five
after the night’s events – promoted fear and kept the rabble in check more often than not.

That would all change if Heriolf didn’t get Naya back.  His strength would ebb, as would his ability to read the minds of his enemies. 
They would be quick to test all his defenses the moment they thought he was at a disadvantage.

The thought of being so vulnerable gave him a thrill of terror.  And that splash of fear infuriated him.  He grabbed the snarling vampire by the hair and jerked him up.  As some of the scalp came free, leaving patches of raw meat in their place, the vampire’s scream was a delight to his ears.  But despite the other’s pain and fear, Heriolf read bitter hatred in his mind and delight the plot to take the Font had succeeded.  Then there was a stream of nonsense as he belatedly attempted to block Savannah’s lord from his thoughts.

“Where has she been taken?” Heriolf hissed, shaking the conspirator.

“Fuck you,” came the answer through gritted teeth.

Heriolf almost casually pulled off one of the traitor’s ears,
and then
dug out his
right
eye, leaving two new gaping holes in the bastard’s head.  The vampire screamed long and piercingly, swinging as impotently against the huge Norseman as he had the guards.

Heriolf waited for his victim to quiet enough to hear him.  When the vampire’s shrieks fell to gulping sobs,
the king
growled, “I will take you apart bit by bloody bit until you lie screaming surrounded by pieces of yourself.  Where is Naya?”

He caught a fleeting thought of a large building similar to a garage and filled with great metal objects.  The thought was gone as quickly as it came, not allowing Heriolf to identify the exact nature of the structure.  The image was replaced with thoughts of a long-ago farm where the vampire had been a boy.

“What is this building filled with machines?”
Heriolf
demanded, frustrated at his inability to see the knowledge contained in the vampire’s head.

Instead of answering, the traitor brought his white gloved hand to his mouth.  His purpose was suddenly clear, but it was too late for Heriolf to do anything about it.  The vampire lord howled with fury as the conspirator swallowed the thin silver chain he had been holding in his protected palm.

His shrieks of pain as the silver ate into his insides were like jagged shards of glass.  Heriolf thrust the dying vampire from him, superstition making him put distance between them.  All the vampires stood back as the traitor jerked on the floor as if possessed by a grand mal seizure, his body beginning to smoke. 

Heriolf shrieked at his guards.  “Imbeciles!  You didn’t check him for silver!”

It was the guard who’d informed him of Naya’s abduction who spoke.  “My lord,
we looked for weapons, not jewelry.  W
e would never imagine a vampire doing that to himself.”  He didn’t look at the Norseman.  Instead, his shocked gaze remained riveted on the jittering body of the slowly, horribly dying vampire.

Heriolf was beside himself.  “I want Naya found now!” he bellowed.  “We fly after her this moment!”

Another guard went to one knee, showing respect even as he naysayed his leader.  “But sunrise comes soon, my lord.”

Heriolf’s mind was a riot of desperation.  He would fade to the typical vampire’s strength in
a
matter of days with
out
Naya’s blood.  His enemies would fall upon him, tearing him apart with no trouble whatsoever.  Of course
they would
.
  That
had been
their plan all along. 

Naya must be found!

Spittle flew as Heriolf screamed at them.  “Search for as long as you can and then bury yourselves, you puling bits of refuse!  For every hour she remains lost, I will kill one of you!  Your pleas for mercy will ring within these walls for a century!”

The petrified guards fled immediately
.  T
he
rest of the
gathered vampires, so recently there to celebrate the addition of supplicants, cringed as his hectic stare ran over them.

Unmindful of their presence, he screamed until the glass in the room shivered at the sound.

* * * *

Naya felt the scrape of the vampire’s fangs against her throat.  She was still weak from his earlier feeding, and she knew the results of another attack might be fatal.

She hated the fear in her voice.  “Please don’t kill me.”

Her abductor
paused.  Naya heard him swallow hard.  He slowly moved his mouth from her skin, leaning his head back to look at her.  It was hard to see him clearly in the dark church, but she could detect the tense set of his features.

“I have no intention of killing you.  I only want Heriolf weakened so he may suffer the final death.”

She stated the obvious, knowing it must have crossed his and his cohorts’ minds at the very least.  “But my death would ensure that.  Or are you planning to take his place by feeding on me?”

He pushed her away from his body though he kept hold of her upper arms, ensuring she wouldn’t try to run again.  “Of course not.  I want us ruled by the council once more, by
the Sacred Seven
appointed for their wisdom and integrity.  We should not be under the sway of a tyrant who only craves power for himself.”

“I was told the council
was
weak.”

“By whom?  Heriolf?  Of course he would tell you that, to bolster his claims of lordship.  He destroyed all who were bold and ethical enough to oppose him.”

The rage in his voice told
Naya
more than his words.  “He killed someone close to you.”

Her abductor’s grip tightened painfully for an instant.  “That’s not important.  Heriolf would return us to indiscriminate killing, threatening our secret and exposing us to the world.  He allows people in populated areas to be taken right off the streets
, including innocents like mothers and children
. 
Beyond being wrong to take such victims, it invites humans to discover our existence. 
We must stay hidden to survive.”

Naya blinked at the rush of explanation.  Whatever else this man might be, he was certainly passionate about his beliefs that Heriolf was a negative influence for the vampires.  Still, her personal
danger
remained uppermost in her mind.   She did not concern herself with vampire business.  “I want to live.  But I do not understand why you haven’t killed me if you don’t plan to use me.”

He seemed to understand she wanted the bald truth of her fate, not platitudes.  “There are those among us who do want you dead.  You’re too much a temptation, and if Heriolf gets hold of you again, there will be no stopping him.”

“So?”

She saw his scowl.  “I don’t murder innocents.  I learned enough from Randalf to know you are as much a victim as the rest of us.” 

He didn’t want to kill her.   She felt the truth of that, and it took
away
some of the tension humming in her body.  “What is your name?”

“Elisha.”  He sighed heavily.  “I wish to apologize for forcing myself on you
in your room
.  I was overcome by the blood.”

She thought of how he’d felt on top of her. Inside of her.   Naya’s breath caught as her belly warmed.  “That seems typical of vampires.  Feeding and sex.”  She thought of the scene in
Heriolf's
hall, of the vampires biting and raping their helpless victims.

Elisha didn’t kill me.  And he tried to stop himself
from intimacy
until I gave permission for him to continue.

He wasn’t like the rest. 

Elisha’s voice was soft.  “He
riolf
has not touched you.  I was sure he was your lover.”

“He has been my guardian since I was a child.  I do not look upon him as someone I would share intimacies with.”

“He has every intention of doing so in the future.  Randalf said he planned to marry you in a huge ceremony at the winter solstice.”

Naya swallowed.  She’d known Heriolf planned to make her his eternal bride.  He’d explained it to her.  She would taste of his blood as he did hers, giving her immortality for as long as she continued to drink from him. 
We will be together forever, in all ways.
  His words.

Blood exchange should make her a vampire as well, but Heriolf had assured her she was different.  How she was different, he refused to explain.  “Trust me, Naya.  You are special and you will not be turned.  You will stay as you are now, except you will live forever.”

She accepted his words.  Heriolf had never lied to her.

There was no use denying she hadn’t known he would marry her and that she was expected to go along with it without question.  And that she would have to give her body to him.  But he’d not told her he planned to do it so soon.  The solstice was only a month away.

“What is it about your blood that gives
Heriolf
such power, Naya?”

She feared answering
Elisha
, sure he would hear not ignorance but defiance.  “I don’t know.  I swear to you, I have no idea.”

If he thought she was holding out on him, he let it go.  “You are different.  Your blood is sweeter.  It sustains more than the typical human’s.”  He pulled her close again.  “I hear
everyone’s
thoughts
now
, except for yours.  My strength is greater.  The same effects Heriolf has enjoyed.  You are not human, Naya.  Tell me about your parents.”

“They died when I was a small child.  I know
next to
nothing about them.”  She was terribly aware of his body against hers.  As if in response, she felt the swelling of his maleness.  His hands released her arms to wander over her shoulders, down her back, cupping her buttocks.  His lips nuzzled hers, drifted lower to her chin,
and kissed
their way down to where her pulse beat quickly.  The velvet of his tongue slid over that spot.

Naya had to fight to not move against him.  Her body wanted him, wanted to be close.  Wa
nted to give him her blood and
heat.  The feeling of his fangs scraping against her skin again was as arousing as his hands on her hindquarters.

“You must stop, Elisha,” she whispered.  “You might lose control and kill me.”

He froze.  Neither of them moved for a few seconds, and Naya didn’t dare to even breathe.  She sensed the internal battle he fought, and the slightest thing might set him in the wrong direction.

Elisha
shuddered and pulled away at last.  His stare bored into her eyes, as if he would assess her very soul.  “You are
incredibly
dangerous.  I don’t want to hurt you, but I do fear what will happen if Heriolf or one of his ilk gets their hands on you.  What are we to do with you, Naya?”

She didn’t know what scared her more:  the cold assessment of her threat to his cause or the molten passion that burned in his eyes.

             
After the moment in which she didn’t dare to even draw a breath,
Elisha
released her from that fearful gaze.  He
raised his nose high, scenting the air like a dog.  “The sun is coming.  This way.”  He tugged Naya beyond the altar and pulpit of the church to a door.  It led to the sacristy, and in the dim light, Naya saw it was empty but for a casket.  This was Elisha’s day resting place, she realized.