Darque Wants (74 page)

The three of them collapsed onto the bed; a tired mess.

Lorraine, scarcely waiting for either of them to catch their breaths, muttered, “So, the dinner….?”

Chapter Two

The, “dinner,” in question was a state affair designed entirely so that the vampire warriors could gather together and praise each other for a war they barely fought to win. The nourishment of choice consisted of human food (sweets, wine and choice raw meats), and vampire foods, blood from the finest animals, the rare humans who were still surviving in farms on the far corners of the earth… and angels.

Adelaide sat next to Constantine at the far corner of the table, absentmindedly tossing around her raw meat and olives with her fork and half-listening to the conversation happening all around her. She resented Constantine for having invited her, knowing that he only did it to spite his wife. Although he had allowed her back into his household after their separation, he was far from ready to actually accept her back into his life again. She knew this, which is why she sat as far away from Adelaide as she possibly could: on the other end of the table.

The sound of Constantine joking with one of his closest confidants, a vampire soldier who had been eyeing her cleavage since she sat down across from him was like poison to her ears. Her parents had always loved their steak, rabbit, veal and lamb nearly rare, but she hated the blood. The slimy, tough substance always seemed to adhere to every corner of her mouth and the whole thing just profoundly bothered her. She wished that Constantine had thought to cook her portion, at least just a little bit, since he had invited her to attend in the first place. After all, he had spent a countless amount of time and energy on her outfit. Adelaide, ironically, felt like she was dressed as a queen with her sharp, royal blue corset and black gown. Her hair had been fashioned into a bun at the top of her head with light whips escaping down in her face and the back of her neck.

Her lips had been painted with black lipstick, an ironic choice considering black lipstick had historically been a fashion of vampire females and that it was considered devilish to wear. Adelaide frowned. It was another one of those moments where she began to wonder why she had not yet killed herself… aside from the fact that suicide was a ridiculously difficult thing for angels to do.

“What’s wrong my love?” Constantine asked her in a jovial voice, knowingly turning the attention to everyone within hearing distance to her.

Adelaide always knew that she was nothing more than a peculiar angel-pet for Constantine. This was the thought that ran through every vampire’s mind every time they looked at her. They wondered what the sex was like; they questioned how she could stomach it; and they pondered at the impossible reality that Constantine had practically ended a war for her. “Nothing.” She muttered, knowing that this could never be enough to get him off of her back.

“What do you mean?” he demanded. “You’re dressed like my queen, but your acting like my prisoner.”

And yet, this was the dichotomy of their relationship...

“You’d to be a king,” Lorraine called from across the table.

Everyone turned to appraise her. She sat with her shoulders back and her chin up, her hands daintily holding the silver fork. She scowled at Constantine, with dark red, pursed lips. In the short hour between their “session,” and the dinner, she had managed to work all of the tangles out of her hair. It hung around her face and down her back in majestic, lion-like curls, making her look larger than life. “… To have a queen.” She replied.

Constantine glowered at her. “Yes well you would know that.” He countered. Then, as he swept his gaze across the entire table, he added, “Apparently, it takes a king and only a king to make a mistress out of the general’s wife.”

Adelaide’s eyes went wide. Until that moment, she thought that she had learned all there was to know about the confusing relationship that existed between Constantine and Lorraine. But of course she was wrong.

“Accusations make a fool of you.” Lorraine scowled, turning her attention back to her plate, indicating she was not going to be entertaining him any longer.

Constantine chuckled once at this, then turned his attention back to Cleavage. “No, my dear,” he muttered to no one in particular, “They make a fool out of you.”

Cleavage laughed, before turning his attention back to Adelaide. “Did you not take stock on her favorite dishes? She is not eating a thing.”

Constantine set his jaw, turning his attention on Adelaide. “Ah, I know what the problem is.” He muttered as he took an empty bowl, which had previously held blood from a prior course and set it in front of her. He retrieved a silver lighter from a pocket inside of his dinner jacket and lit it.  “The weaker creatures,” he started as the fire took to the blood which had lined the bowl and he reached into her plate to fork a piece of raw meat, “Cannot handle,” he submerged the piece of meat in the licks of flames just about the bed of the bowl, “food in its natural, raw state.” He removed the meat when the outside had begun to char, then doused it in his frigid breath. He then presented it to Adelaide.

Adelaide, who had been staring at him with her eyes wide, confused at the fact that he had actually gone through the pains to do that for her, could do nothing but take the meat. “For your information, it is common, actually for angels to eat raw. It is just not in my particular tastes.” Adelaide explained as she finished chewing.

Constantine raised an eyebrow in mock concern.

“For someone who plans to enslave an entire species, you know remarkably little about them.” She snapped.

Constantine cocked his head to one side. “My dear, who says I’d do anything like that?”

Adelaide glanced, pointedly at the Angels who had had their wings fastened to their backs. Some were held within leather straps wrapped around their torsos, and others were not so lucky and had nothing more than ropes keeping their wings down. They fluttered around the room, answering the rude calls of the vampires around them, or stood practically adhered to the wall, surveying the room with their tired eyes. “You already have.”

Constantine rolled his eyes. “Why don’t you just keep cooking your food, love.” He replied in a harsh voice.

At that, he then lifted his goblet of wine and tapped his fork against it. The hum of voices that had filled his room, slowly simmered down as one by one, they realized that he was trying to get their attention. “I would like to congratulate you all on your efforts.” He exclaimed in that stately voice of his. His mouth remained open, as he wished to say more, but an applause interrupted him. He nodded at the table of soldiers, and even at his wife, who also partook in the celebration, giving a subdued clap of her own.

“Anyways, you all fought hard and long in this cause. We lost many that we loved and I am very pleased to find that their existence was not in vain. Although it was a simple agreement that won us this planet, it was not without your intimidating prowess, that we were able to reclaim that which is rightfully ours!”

At this, an even bigger cheer filled the room. There was not only applause, but boots stomping the hard ground and fists slamming against the table. The noise pressed into Adelaide’s head, making it impossible for her to focus on any other thought than that of the brutes that surrounded her. Her Energy brimmed just beneath the surface of her skin as a strange kind of anxiety set in. Adelaide couldn’t help but to worry that soon enough, Constantine would grow bored with her and she would be cast off with the rest of the angels, reduced to nothing but servants.

“But I have something of value you to tell you all, so listen closely,” he continued. “I have been summoned to the court of our king to answer for our success. Thus I regret to tell you that I will have to take leave from this camp in the crucial moments of its settlement. But I have left my wife in charge of all matters concerning the camp, its prisoners, and our relocation….”

He might have said more, but there was a terrible commotion on the other side of the table. Lorraine shot out of her chair and picked up her goblet all in one motion. She chugged it across the room in a movement that looked like the happy marriage between extreme strength and impossibly precise aim.

It hit Constantine square in his chest, the wine it contained dousing him and splashing anyone within a foot radius, including Adelaide. As she pursed her lips as the wine running off of her forehead, Lorraine stormed out of the room and into the night. As Constantine prepared for his departure in the next few days, she completely avoided him and thus, Adelaide. In fact, it wasn’t until he had been gone for a full day that Lorraine barged into his tent.

Adelaide, who had been sitting in front of her vanity, relishing in the alone-time and combing her hair in complete silence, turning to find Lorraine towering over her. Her heart pounded against her chest when she realized that this was the first time she had been alone with Lorraine. Whenever she would turn up, Constantine had always managed to protect her from her wrath and now that he was gone, there was nothing stopping Lorraine from ripping her to shreds. “Can I help you?” she asked, fear tightening her voice.

“What did you do to him?” Lorraine sneered.

“Nothing.” Adelaide replied in a desperate voice as she stood up. She felt far less vulnerable when she was standing.

Lorraine shook her head. “You are not being honest with me.”

“I swear I am.”

“How did he meet you?” She demanded. “Where did you come from?”

Adelaide cocked her head to the side, confused at the fact that Lorraine had not already been informed of this. “I was a prisoner.”

Lorraine laughed humorlessly. “My husband thinks so little of me that he lets a prisoner into our bed.” She sneered as she approached her. “I don’t understand it.” She clutched Adelaide’s face, her fingers digging into her skin.

Adelaide tried not to look as afraid as she felt.

“What is it about you angels?”

Lorraine stood so close to her that Adelaide could smell her sweat breath. She could not deny that she found it seductive. Everything about Lorraine was seductive.

“What is it about your golden skin? You amazing eyes. Your long, luscious hair….” She pressed her nose against her neck, taking a long, deep whiff of her. “It’s that beating heart, isn’t it?” she hissed. “I can feel your blood coursing through your veins even as we speak now.” She sucked in a deep breath, then traced her trachea with her tongue.

Adelaide’s eyes went wide as she clutched Lorraine’s arms for lack of anything else to hold on to.

Lorraine scoffed. “Please.” She muttered. “I never had chance. I can’t compete with you. I’m dead.” With that, her fangs surged through her gums, pressing into Adelaide’s skin. She cried out in a surprise that quickly morphed into immense pain as Lorraine began to suck her blood out of her. Adelaide’s eyes watered as she felt all of her Energy rush to that one area of her body to try to replenish what she had lost, but she was losing far too quickly. Lorraine held onto her, like a snake to its prey, making it impossible to escape, and with every passing second, she grew weaker and weaker, until escape was no longer feasible.

Chapter Three

Adelaide tossed and turned in the fur of Constantine’s bed. In the minutes, or hours or days or years since Lorraine had left her, she had slowly deteriorated into a deeper and deeper sickness. Her venom had spilled into her blood and now Adelaide’s body fought it with everything it had. She writhed it pain, the force of it curdling her blood and freezing her muscles, as whatever was left of her energy worked to combat venom and the death it would surely bring. Sweat sprouted from every pore in her body, then streamed down her skin in multitudes of buckets, drenching the sheets. Whenever she chanced to open her eyes, the salty liquid would spill into them, it’s burning adding to the ocean of pain she was already feeling. She struggled to think of a solution; a poultice, or pill, or drink, or herb that she could eat to alleviate this pain. She tried with every ounce of her strength to sift through her memory for any of the healing strategies her grandmother had taught her. But her fever had turned her brain to mush. Words bounced around her head, banging themselves against her skull into nonsense before they could form any thoughts. And the few thoughts that managed to come into being, against all odds, withered away before she could grasp them.

Adelaide turned over. She found that if she removed the covers and lay on her back, she caught the small draft of air coming in through the top, opened portion of the front flap. It made her shiver, but it was also extremely soothing. She figured if she could just lay there and focus on her breathing and on not moving, she might just survive the pain until her body had worked all of the toxins out of her system.

Yet, as she was laying there, her stomach began to violently lurch. She swallowed the lump in her through, heaving in deep breaths in the hopes that it would calm her, but there was no luck. By the time saliva flooded her mouth, there was absolutely no question what would be coming next. She summoned what little strength she had to leap out of bed and tear her way through the flap. She scurried outside and around the tent so that no one would see her and bent over into the grass. Her body only hesitated for a short moment, before every muscle inside of her seemed to team up in the task of dispelling wastes from her body. Her mouth filled with desiccated foods and half chewed meats. Bile and wine tore at her throat on the way out, the burn making her eyes water. She pressed her legs together to keep herself from peeing out of reflex as she clutched her knees with her hands, seriously questioning if she was ever actually going to stop vomiting.