Authors: Ann Gimpel
He moved his lips from hers for long enough to say, “I’ll just let you get used to the feel of me. I’ll know when you’re ready for more.” His voice was husky with passion.
“I think I’m ready now.” She rocked her pelvis against him, willing him to move.
He laughed, then bent to kiss her again.
Her nipples felt electric where they pressed against his bare chest. Her hips moved of their own volition. Hand still thrust between her legs, his fingers rubbed her delicate mound as he pulled almost all the way out, then ever so slowly, sank all the way back in. Between the long, slow strokes and his fingers urging her on, Melis felt another peak building, hot and delicious. Then it was there, filling her with the most incredible sensations as her pussy shuddered around him. The spasms were just subsiding when he pulled out of her with a low moan and grabbed hold of himself. Hot jets erupted on her stomach. He sounded like a big cat purring as he moved his hand fast and hard on his shaft.
“Can’t have you getting pregnant,” he panted, collapsing on top of her. “At least, not yet.” He rolled onto one side, supporting his head on a hand. In the dim illumination from the banked gaslight near the door, she could see him smiling.
“You’re looking pleased with yourse
lf.”
He laughed. “You should see yourself. You’re rosy as a newborn. You were made for this, Melis.”
“Oh she was, was she? Funny, that’s the same thing you used to tell me.”
“Janika!” Gerald was on his feet so fast, hands raised to call power, that Melis didn’t see how he could have managed it. “How’d you get past my wards?”
Melis slammed up her own wards and jumped off the bed.
“I’ve been waiting…darling.” An apparition wavered in one corner of the room. “And for far longer than I thought I’d have to, dear husband, given your carnal appetites. Must have done your fucking elsewhere, eh?”
“What is this?” Melis hissed at Gerald. “Some kind of trap?” Hackles on full alert, she wondered just what kind of game he’d been playing with her.
“She used sex as a gateway to subvert my wards. I’m not sure how she could have done that, but she did.”
Laughter with a crazed edge made Melis’s skin crawl. Vampire laughter was eerie. High-pitched and discordant, it pounded against her wards. Janika was becoming more substantial. A cascade of waist-length blonde hair fell over a black robe belted with crimson. Thinking it might be easier to strike a killing blow before the vampire was fully corporeal, Melis drew Earth magic and sent it spinning across the room.
Janika’s form flickered. She became visible again a few feet away. “Don’t waste your magic, witch,” she sneered. “I am far more powerful than even Gerald ever dreamed of being—and his cock’s not the only part of him that’s big.” The vampire began counting off on her fingers. “Big ego, big ideas, big plans. Only place he’s small—”
“Enough,” Gerald roared, moving between her and Melis. His hands wove an arcane pattern in the air that made it crackle with magic. “Be gone, blood sucker. You have no congress inside this house.”
The acrid taste of fear filled Melis’s mouth. She added power to Gerald’s working, hoping something would faze the vampire, but Janika seemed to feed on their magic. She grew more solid by the minute.
“What do you want?” Melis asked, trying to buy time so she could think up some spell that might immobilize the dark creature.
Pale blue eyes gleamed. “My child. And my husband.” Janika took a step toward Gerald. “Admit it, dear. You’ve missed me.” Fangs curved downward, visible when she smiled.
“Never.” He lobbed more power toward her. His casting glowed blue in the banked gaslight of the room. Janika raised a bored eyebrow; the ball of energy dissipated. Gerald drew a hand back. It froze in midair. The air grew thicker, pulsating with blue-white light. Gerald’s hands fell to his sides. He took a jerky step forward.
“No!” Melis screamed. Shoving forward she ran into an invisible barrier that seared her. Chanting furiously, she drew magic to make the obstruction visible. Thank the goddess, it wasn’t very long. She sprinted for the end; it moved right along with her. Horror sent ice chips skittering down her spine. She’d never run up against sorcery this powerful. She could see the weave in the barrier. It glittered with tiny pin pricks of flame.
Melis understood she had to find a way through if she were going to save Gerald. Desperate, heart beating a staccato rhythm, she scooped his shirt off the floor to give her some protection from the heat and leapt toward him again. He’d been shuffling forward. Only about two feet separated him from Janika and her shiny fangs.
The door banged open. “Mother!”
His child’s voice must have released him from Janika’s compulsion spell because Gerald spun. “Antoinette. Leave now.”
The little girl reached up and turned the jet on the gas lantern. Melis blinked as the room flared with light.
“That’s right, dear.” A rail-thin older woman in a gray dressing gown, black hair drawn into a severe bun, strode into the room. “They don’t like light.”
Antoinette stared at Janika. “You’re not my mother.” The girl’s voice was sad. “Once you were, but not anymore.”
“Remember what we practiced?” The woman had to be Antoinette’s governess, Missus Henning. She took one of Antoinette’s hands and began to chant in demonspeak. The girl joined in. They walked closer to Janika who’d thrown her hands in front of her face the minute Antoinette had turned up the light.
Looking grim as death, brows drawn together into a hard line, Gerald took his daughter’s other hand and joined his voice to theirs.
“No. Leave me alone. I’ll go,” Janika begged, backing into a corner.
Antoinette broke off the mantra long enough to glance toward her governess. Even from her vantage point in the middle in the room, Melis saw pleading in the child’s face and heard it in her trembling voice. “Can we let her leave?”
Missus Henning turned and Melis got a look at her eyes. They were black as coals, burning and bottomless. “No, dear, we must end this once and for all.”
Antoinette nodded. A tear rolled down one cheek, but she ignored it. “I understand.” Her child’s piping picked up the chant.
Janika burst into flames. The conflagration started with her feet and quickly raced up her body. Waves of heat spread through the room, but there wasn’t any smoke. Gerald, Antoinette, and Mrs. Henning hit a high, jarring note and held it. The thing that had been Janika melted into strings of gore spreading over the polished wood floor. Braving the heat, the governess pulled a packet out of her gown and sprinkled it on the mess. Sparks shot through the air. When they cleared, all traces of Janika had disappeared.
“Silver powder for good measure,” Missus Henning muttered. “The thing is finally done.”
“Goodbye, Momma.” A sob escaped Antoinette.
Gerald pulled his daughter against him, stroking her hair. Tears glistened in his eyes. “You were very brave,” he crooned. “My courageous darling. You saved us all.” He met the governess’s gaze over his child’s head. “Why did you teach her that incantation? And tell her about her mother?”
Missus Henning squared her thin shoulders. “It is best not to overprotect the young, Mister Brenner. If you had ever raised any other children, you would know that.” She eyed him and Melis and cleared her throat. “I assume a wedding is imminent since you seem to be sharing a bedroom.”
Melis’s cheeks burned. She’d forgotten she was naked under her thin shift. “Yes, ma’am,” she said. “Most imminent.”
“Good. Can’t be setting a bad example for the child. I am quite fond of her.” Dark eyes sparkling with humor, she winked before leaving the room.
“Poppa?”
“Yes, darling.”
“Was Momma really beyond hope like Missus Henning said?”
Melis wondered what the governess had told Antoinette. Her heart ached for the newly motherless girl. She jumped in before Gerald could say anything. “Your mother loved you. Never forget that. She made a very bad decision three years ago, but it had nothing to do with her feelings for you.”
Gerald walked to Melis and kissed her cheek. “I couldn’t have said it better. Time for bed, little one.” He started for the door with Antoinette clinging to him.
“Can I stay with you tonight?” she asked. “Both of you?”
“Of course.” Melis smiled gently. “That’s a wonderful idea.” She opened her arms and Antoinette ran into them. As she cradled the small quaking body against her, Melis vowed to be a good mother. Maybe, just maybe, this could be a second chance for all of them.
About the Author
Ann Gimpel is a clinical psychologist, with a Jungian bent, who practices in a very isolated area high in California’s Sierra Nevada Mountains. Her avocations include mountaineering, skiing, wilderness photography and, of course, writing. A lifelong aficionado of the unusual, she began writing speculative fiction a few years ago. Since then her short fiction has appeared in a number of magazines, webzines and anthologies. She has published three novels, Psyche’s Prophecy, Psyche’s Search and Psyche’s Promise. A husband, grown children, grandchildren and three wolf hybrids round out her family.