Demon Vampire (The Redgold Series) (86 page)

BOOK: Demon Vampire (The Redgold Series)
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Love opened her eyes. She was in the wooden tub. The water was tinted with her own blood. She turned her head to the left. The large wound was gone. She seemed unfazed by the miraculous healing that had taken place. There were no longer any signs of it. Love stretched out her right hand, placing it on the frame of the tub. The wood compressed under the pressure of her grip. Love smiled. She wasn't acting herself.

Rebekkah didn't recognize the expression on Love's face. She had always been stoic. This was different. She had purpose beneath her eyes. “Love, are you-” Rebekkah noticed the open laceration to her chest had somehow instantly closed while she wasn't paying attention. “What happened? It healed! I'm so happy.” Rebekkah leaned in to hug Love. She swung her arms around her, holding her tightly.

Love waited to respond. Accepting the hug purely as it was given, unconditionally. She smiled faintly. “I'm better now.”

Rebekkah quickly let go. Something was wrong with Love. She would never say that. Rebekkah thought for a moment. “What have you done to my Love? Who are you?”

Love stood up from the water. The liquid was falling all around her. She climbed out and approached Rebekkah. “What's the matter, Rebekkah?”

Rebekkah stared at the stranger before her. It was Love's body standing there, only it wasn't. “Where is she? What happened to her? Did you kill her. Did you take her away? Is she still in there? Who are you?” Rebekkah moved to restrain Love's arms.

Love put up no resistance. “So many questions.”

Love's arms were now crossed behind her back. Rebekkah was squeezing them tightly. Love couldn't escape. Her wet skin offered no added chance of evading Rebekkah's interrogation.

Love turned to look at Rebekkah's eyes. “Fine, we can do it my way then.” Love flexed her shoulders and intentionally broke both of the arms Rebekkah was firmly holding. “There, that will help you to understand.”

Rebekkah was mortified. She let go of Love's limp arms immediately. “WHO THE HELL ARE YOU!? WHAT DID YOU DO TO HER!!!???”

Love quickly snapped her fractured elbows back into place with a simple flick of her arms. “Now that I have your full attention.” Love walked into the main room. She reached for one of Fear's cloaks he had accidentally left behind. The same cloak that was splashed with her blood when he killed her a few hours ago. It was still soaked. She put it on and sat in one of the nearby chairs. She leaned to her left and began to speak. “My name is Salas.”

Rebekkah was shaking, she knew what this impostor was going to say next. She could feel it.

With a blank face that didn't suit Love at all, Salas continued. “Love is dead.”

Rebekkah screamed out loud. She fell to the floor and beat on the carpet. It shook the entire inn. Dust flew out of every crack in the room. She kept yelling, punching the floor as she wailed on. Her screaming wasn't intelligible, coming forth in rants and sobs.

Salas sat, waiting patiently in Love's flesh. He took several deep breaths, enjoying the oxygen he had missed. The simple act of breathing was almost alien to him.

Rebekkah didn't stop. She broke through the floor and landed inside a room on the first story. Her constant screaming attracted the locals. People came to see what the ruckus was about. Rebekkah was demolishing the inn with her bare hands. She wasn't getting hurt either. The more than fifty people that had gathered couldn't believe it. Rebekkah was destroying everything in sight near her in a remorse filled rage.

Two men came up to pull her away from what she was doing.

“Bad move.” Salas said while watching from above.

The two men placed their hands on Rebekkah's waist and left arm. She turned to her left and removed the man's hand at the wrist. She was angry. She didn't care who she was attacking. The situation descended rapidly. Within minutes more than fifty piles of wet, bloody skin were displaced throughout the area. Rebekkah had snapped, completely.

Salas stood up and dropped downstairs. He landed next to Rebekkah. “I understand you had feelings for her-”

Rebekkah slapped Salas' left cheek, hard. The skin peeled away from the flesh, the jaw dislocated, dangling to the right side. Salas's head turned with the impact. He let it happen. He looked back.

Rebekkah cried. She came up to Salas, placing her hands on the injury she had inflicted. She set the hanging chin and coddled it. “Oh, honey, I didn't mean that.”

Salas knew the emotional turmoil Rebekkah was enduring. He chose his words carefully in order to provoke the perfect response. “Isn't that what you wanted to protect her from?”

Rebekkah began to swing at Salas again. She stopped when she saw that Salas wasn't defending himself. He wanted her to hit him. It wasn't his body.

Salas didn't care.

Rebekkah did.

“Your anger is misplaced. She decided this for herself. She wanted to be absolved from the hell Fear was putting her through over the years. If you want someone to blame, cast it on him.” Salas was picking his battles well. He stood, his skin repairing itself as he spoke. Within a few moments, there wasn't any trace of what Rebekkah had done. Salas picked up one of the many freshly mutilated bodies around them. He grabbed a middle aged woman and pulled her towards his lips.

“Wait.” Rebekkah raised her voice at Salas. “What are you doing?”

“Feeding. You drink blood too, I've seen you do it. We will need all the blood we can get to withstand the beating Fear will give us when he realizes we won't be able to deliver tonight.” Salas readied his fangs to bite the neck of the woman.

“Wait!” Rebekkah spoke up again. She unbuttoned the top half of her dress coat. She slide the fabric down, exposing the right side of herself to Salas. “I have all the blood you could ever want.”

Salas lowered the body in his hand. “I'm not used to cooperation once I had taken over the body of another's love. I thought it rude, especially if taking your Love. It is not my intention to impose.”

“She's really gone then?” Rebekkah asked.

Salas stared at Rebekkah with Love's eyes. He had turned them cold, seasoned them in a way Love was never able to. He answered. “Yes.”

“Then if all I have left is her body I can at least enjoy it for her.” Rebekkah's logic was simple, lustful, and selfish. She considered her own feelings before wanting to deal with the pain of loss she was hiding from.

Rebekkah stepped towards Salas, her clothing hanging in her arms. Salas let go of the dead body. He came up to Rebekkah, wrapping his left arm around her waist. He held her tight. Salas leaned down to Rebekkah's open chest. He lowered his lips above her left breast.

“Are you sure. This cannot be undone. Decide before it is too late.” Salas made sure of Rebekkah's state of mind.

“After you're done, I have one request.” Rebekkah asked Salas with a tear in her eye.

“Anything.” Salas was ready to appease Rebekkah in whatever way he had to. Her blood smelled luscious to him. His teeth were wet.


Make Love come with me
.” Rebekkah's cryptic words settled in Salas' mind.

Rebekkah knew what she was asking him to do. The request was there, subtly hidden in the sentence. She relinquished her knowledge of what had just happened that night. Rebekkah wanted to believe with all her heart that the person in front of her was Love. She ignored the voice screaming out in the back of her head that wanted to die trying to avenge Love. She turned a deaf ear to the argument of her own emotions. Rebekkah only wanted to let Love's thin dexterous fingers comfort her. She wished with her all to slip away. Rebekkah wanted the lie that Salas was offering more than he was.

Salas pierced Rebekkah's chest directly above the heart. Love's fangs sank in without hesitation. Salas drank and Rebekkah died as the blood dripped down her legs. After Salas had his fill, he carried Rebekkah to one of the undamaged beds in the back of the inn. He laid her down gently. He patiently waited for her to revive.

Rebekkah woke up with a smile. “Kiss me my Love.”

Salas kissed Rebekkah with Love's lips. He placated her desires that night. Showing her the pleasures of the years he had seen from the back of so many wet and bothered teenagers.

Dawn came. Fear appeared at the foot of a disarrayed bed. Rebekkah was covered in blood, her dress was ruined. Love was sleeping over her right arm. Slowly breathing, obviously exhausted from their nightly activities. Love's body was clean, save for her arms. Blood was caked up to her elbows on both. It had dried and solidified so that it couldn't absorb.

Fear studied the scene from the front of the room. He was not happy. Instead of yelling, or asking them loudly what they had done, he acted swiftly on his rage. He jumped onto Love and tore her head off. Letting it fall in the far right corner by itself. Blood sprayed out onto Rebekkah.

Rebekkah woke up to Love's death, again. The entire bed was instantly saturated. Rebekkah turned to see Love's body, decapitated. She pushed at Fear to no effect. “What have you done? She had just gotten better last night. Why do this now?”

“I have no reason to tell you anything.” Fear barked at Rebekkah.

“I can tell you.” Love's severed head spoke from the corner of the room.

Fear walked over to the head. He picked it up. “I don't recall a fledgling being able to retain consciousness after having their head removed.” Fear smiled. “I sure have some damn good blood, don't I?”

“No. You don't.” Love's head replied. “You're blood only allowed me to inhabit her.”

Fear threw Love's head on Rebekkah's lap. She placed it back on Love's neck. The head almost immediately reattached to the body. A rate of healing that was unheard of by vampire standards. Love sat up and climbed to the edge of the bed. She got up nude. She dressed herself in the same black cloak Fear had left the night before.

“What do you think you're doing?” Fear was angry at Love.

“Getting dressed.” Love simply replied.

Fear pumped his gift into the area around all of them. Raising it to a level that should make every living thing within a hundred feet frozen and afraid to breathe. Rebekkah stopped entirely. Unable to move or even gasp for air as his ability gripped her.

“What?” Love stood, unaffected. She raised her chin and stared at Fear. “You know she's going to die if you keep that up.” Love pointed to Rebekkah.

Fear eased the pressure of his gift. “I don't take orders from my slaves.”

“You would if you were smart.” Love's comment irritated Fear. “Besides, I'm not your slave. Your slave is dead and gone.”

“What? You're not making too much sense today Love.” Fear was ignoring the main question on his mind. He wanted to figure out why Love was now immune to his gift.

“That's easy. This body no longer has a soul.” Love said directly looking into Fear's eyes.

Fear's attention was focused on Love. “I didn't ask you that much.”

“You did, you just don't want to admit it. You know what's going on here too. You are just too high and mighty to accept it.” Love walked up to Fear, she got in his face. Placed her nose on his. “I have returned.”

Fear swung at Love.

Love caught Fear's arm.

Fear tried to jab at Love's right side.

Love blocked Fear's attack with her right knee.

“Who are you?” Fear asked the question.

“I am the third psychic to die that horrid night.” Love said with a cold face. “Do you remember me now?”

Fear thought back. He recalled the stormy night where he killed a small group of vampires wanting to join him. He remembered the time of the Elder Ritual.

“Yes. It's in your mind now. You were the one that drove your fist through my chest and bored out my heart.” Love's tone was getting harsher. She was snarling at Fear. “You watched me die. You saw my brothers perish. My family. They came to you with the same aspirations I did. You made bets as to which one of us would die last.” Love squeezed Fear's right arm. Blood began to spill as his flesh gave way. “I remember cursing you for all the years it took. Thinking I would get through it just to see you choke on your own heart. Vowing that I would force it down your throat with my own hand.” Love appeared to be readying herself to attack Fear. She was poised for action. Apparently able to now fend off Fear's unmatched strength. Love had turned the power table. Fear was losing.

Fear thought carefully. He remembered well. “The ritual. Salas. The third psychic to die. I remember the unique demon gift we created that night six thousand years ago.” Fear paused, he didn't know what to do. He remembered that Salas was a supreme psychic. He was able to read the minds of all around him without any effort at all. He was perfect, and Fear had made him unreal. Salas had every right to hate Fear. Doubt began to fill his mind.

“It's alright Fear.” Salas spoke through Love. He eased his grip, and backed off. “I didn't come back again to kill you. I've been dead for nearly as long as you've been alive. I've had time to think about it, enough precious moments to welcome a catharsis.” Salas sat down on the edge of the bed. “Now do you mind letting her go?” Salas gestured to Rebekkah, laying motionless on the bed.

Fear let Rebekkah move again. “Then what do you want?”

Salas smiled. “Blood.”

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