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head and showed her throat to him.
The ritual had begun. She was ready to become the vampire's bride. Docilely she
obeyed when Rogue took his hand and turned her head to the side to allow him better
access to her vein. His hand cupped her neck. She moaned. The vampire drew her
toward him. She came willingly. He was ready to take what he came for: her blood.
I hovered above this scene of lust and hunger, both appalled and fascinated by what I
was seeing. I couldn't look away.
Rogue's face lowered to the young girl's ghost white throat. I knew exactly when he bit
her, when his sharp teeth pierced her smooth flesh, for she whimpered, her body
trembling. Then she moaned, not in pain but in ecstasy. Suddenly, as she was
overcome by her passions, the girl's legs gave way and her body went limp.
Rogue held her, preventing her fall. He dropped to his knees with her in his arms, his
mouth still fastened to her throat. Once she rested on the stones of the landing he
pulled her halter top down, revealing her perfect small breasts, and began to stroke
them with one great, clawed hand. Then, his breathing quickening, he reached down
and roughly ripped away first her shorts, then her panties.
I knew I should fly on, but instead, filled with shame but unable to go, I watched.
The vampire parted the girl's thighs as perhaps no man had ever done before. Never
releasing her throat, he continued drinking deeply of her blood, and he moved his
body over hers. Then, without hesitation, I saw the quick, hard way he took her. He
was so large and she was quite a small creature, but he had no pity. He cruelly drove
into her with great grunting thrusts. He was a beast. He had no gentleness. He was not
human in his desire. He was a vampire.
The girl mewed beneath him for a moment, then sighed. He thrust faster, driving his
member into her again and again. She opened her legs wider, and her thin arms
embraced the monster that violated her. I could see it all. Finally the vampire's great
body shook. The helpless girl's eyes snapped open. He had satisfied himself with her
blood and her body.
Sated, Rogue released his victim. He stood up, blood dripping from his fangs. He left
her lying naked on the steps, a discarded, ruined thing. But suddenly the girl stirred.
She raised herself up as he moved away. Her arms reached out, her hands clutching at
him, trying to pull him back.
I heard her say, "No, don't go. Stay. Stay with me," as humans will always say to the
vampire lover who possesses them. They are in the vampire's thrall. They can't bear his
absence. They are willing to die for their vampire lover.
But I was sure this cruel taking was over. Rogue shook the girl's hand from him and
ignored her pleas to return to her. Silver tears on her cheeks caught the lamplight. Her
blond hair fell like golden silk around her shoulders. Her white skin was bright against
the dark steps where she lay.
I prepared to fly on. I veered off, beating my wings, setting my course for Martin's. I
looked back to see if Rogue followed.
I was stunned at what I saw. Instead of leaving the girl, as he should have, he had gone
back. He pushed her down. He leaped atop her like an animal. They writhed there on
the stoop of the brownstone as he buried himself in her body, his animal lust driving
his member into her again.
Seeing it tormented me. We are a terrible race. I tried to erase the image from my
mind as I beat my wings hard and flew upward, anxious to be gone.
Chapter 10
"I expect that Woman will be the last thing civilized by Man."
George Meredith, The Ordeal of Richard Feverel
Lead from a position of strength. That's a lesson my mother taught me.
I pushed all memories of the disturbing events of the evening from my mind. I focused
on the night yet to come. I had to prepare myself to see Darius and get the truth from
him about why he had really come back.
And I had no intention of seeing him looking like a bass player who had just stumbled
out of a garage in Seattle with Kurt Cobain. That was why, after returning to Martin's
apartment, telling him without elaboration that three hunters were dead, and getting
back into my street clothes, I had returned to Lucifer's Laundromat.
I needed my Bloomie's bags and I needed them now.
I retrieved my stuff from the bartender and headed for the ladies' room. I stripped off
my working clothes and put on that killer halter dress by Mandalay. Its neckline
plunged to my diaphragm. It clung to me like a second skin. I put on the matching
shoes, unwrapped the exquisite rhinestone clutch purse I had also purchased, and
fished around through the rubble in the bottom of my backpack. I found my gun, the
set of lock picks, some cash, and what I was looking for: my makeup kit. As the saying
goes, Don't leave home without it.
I appraised myself in the mirror. My raven black hair fell straight and shimmering past
my shoulders. My lips were glossed with cherry red. My skin resembled delicate white
porcelain, but so pale it was almost translucent and I could see the light tracings of
veins underneath. I was a hungry vampire and needed blood. On the plus side, my
cornflower blue eyes popped in contrast.
I liked the effect. I looked kick ass. I squared my shoulders, walked back out through
the club feeling the stares following me, smiled at the attention, and got a cab.
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