Guadalupe's Tears (3 page)

Chapter Four

After Lee devoured his fourth victim, tossing the carcasses aside as if they were spent whiskey bottles, he propped himself up against the nearest wall and fell into a deep sleep. Within moments he dreamed of Phaedra. She stood atop one of the bald mountains near a cave where the Comanches had painted strange looking beings upon the rocks in glowing silver paint. Her bodice was undone, her red hair flying in the sage scented wind. She called out to him and his body responded. Then the scene changed and Lee was sitting chest deep in a copper tub filled with water that reeked of lilac and gardenia petals. He sat there, his arms hanging limply over the sides, feeling somewhat befuddled but definitely aroused as the most beautiful woman he’d ever seen stood before him wearing a red velvet dress. She stared back at him frankly with her eerie eyes that carried their own inner glow, as if someone had taken silver polish and gave them a good going over. Her lips were pale, almost as pale as her flesh and as she unbound her rich auburn hair it tumbled down past her waist in thick heavy waves. She slowly stripped for him, first removing the outer garment and letting it slide down her sleek body and onto the floor. She smiled as she tilted her head slightly, unlacing her corset, which strangely enough tied from the front instead of the back. It too, slid off her breasts and down her firm lean belly, pausing long enough to pat her hips as it made its way to the floor.

Phaedra said nothing as she slid, naked and pale as a candle taper into the water before him. Heat had already risen to his face as well as to other regions as well. He slid his hand down his leg and toyed with his penis, which was hard, firm and ready. Phaedra’s hand wrapped around his, and he turned loose, letting her take over the job he had begun.

Then as if time had sped up and he was left a few seconds behind, Phaedra was in his lap. In one fluid motion she slid down onto his member and he stared at her, perplexed yet pleased, as she rose and fell, the gentle sloshing of the water coming up over the rim and spilling like little waterfalls onto the floor.

It wasn’t the sex act itself that he found displeasing, and whatever displeasure he was sensing was vague and unappetizing as if he was doing something immoral and his soul was in jeopardy. Despite the warmth of her outer body, her breasts rubbing up against his chest, the heat of her pallid face, and the auburn hair that tumbled over her shoulders as she rode him, the problem was that that her insides were cold, cold and dead and unresponsive.
I feel like I’m in a grave yard
, he thought as she pumped him,
doing something that’ll send me on the express train to hell.
He realized then that there was the reek of death and decay about her, and he yearned to throw her off, yet he could not. Fear, sharp as a knife shot through him.
Get off,
he told his dream self. And yet his dream self could not. Her thighs clamped unnaturally tight against his hips, her body rising and falling over the heat of his shaft, and although her vagina was cold, there was no pain, and even in his confused state, he felt his own passion rise. He slid his hands over her hips and leaned forward to kiss her but withdrew instantly. There was something wrong with her mouth, something terribly wrong. Even the shape looked strange and distorted. He flinched, and once again considered throwing her off, but found he didn’t have the strength to do so.

Her right hand clutched the back of his neck and she guided him to her breast, which he took gladly, pulling and sucking as she rode him.

When the orgasm came it was intense, and lasted far longer than he expected. She too, grunted and heaved over him, the water sloshing out of the tub at an astonishing rate. He felt her come too, her vagina clamping down hard on him and then sucking his penis as if it would never let go. And he prayed it wouldn’t

But it did and he rested, spent, in the tub that had apparently refilled itself. Phaedra smiled and slid backwards off of him. He thought that she was about to climb out of the tub, get dressed, and perhaps order them some wine. Instead, she leered at him with teeth sharp, huge and obscene, and again he was afraid of her mouth, terrified of her smile, but like a deer that was suddenly surprised by a cougar, he found he was unable to move. Her smile became something hideous, and before he could give it a second thought, she plunged down under the water.

Phaedra explored his thighs with her mouth, then his penis, and she nursed that too, and he felt himself rise again. He vaguely wondered how she could manage to hold her breath so long, and worried about her ministering to his manhood with that gaping maw of a mouth of hers; that clown like mouth that was suddenly bright red and with sharp jagged teeth that protruded out around thick blue black gums. But he was under her spell and what she was doing felt oh so good. So right. So nice.
Oh yes. Oh Yes. That way,
he thought.
Just a little while longer
... And while he came a second time that night Lee was convinced that he could follow her to the moon if she asked him to.

Orgasmic bliss turned to excruciating pain. Something sharp and terrible sliced open his lower belly, and as he bled he felt her mouth, her lovely horrible terrible mouth, sucking greedily on the open gash that she’d created. He tried to scream but his breath failed him. Within seconds, he felt himself sliding down into the tub, into the depths of the water that seemed oceanic, eternal and unfathomable.

Chapter Five

Lee woke with a start, his right hand holding his erect penis and his left exploring the rough pockmarked scar just above his pubic hair; the place where Phaedra struck with her horrid snake-like mouth. The room was dark, hot and silent. Moonlight shone down through the windows, creating white blocks of light upon the floor. Feeling captivated by its luminescence, Lee reached out toward it, his fingers inching toward the light. He found it soothing. He crawled into it, his body, pallid and drained, appeared even more ghost-like as moonbeams caressed him. He rested there for a while, yearning to weep, yet could not, aware of the shackle that was still clamped firmly on his ankle. He rattled the chain, testing it. His mind, once so dull and animal-like in its bloodlust was now clearing. Again, he touched his lower belly, just where a profusion of pubic hair grew dark brown and inched up toward his navel in what his fiancée once called his ‘happy trail.’ He explored it, finding the round indention that had somehow healed over, which puzzled him greatly. The erection he toyed with while dreaming wilted as he recalled his last moments of life with Phaedra.

Lee knew what he had done, but felt only a small prickle of remorse, which didn’t last long. Earlier, he yearned to weep, but that urge too, fell by the wayside. Before he met Phaedra, Lee was a courier for the US Calvary, and his concerns were simple: how to avoid Comanche raiders and if his fiancée Maggie was making time with the fancy lawyer who lived next door. Those concerns died when he met Phaedra, and now new thoughts entered his mind: when the next feeding time was, and how he could get to Phaedra. Phaedra who sang to him in his sleep, whose matchless beauty made him crave far more than the daily bloodlettings.
And yes,
Lee thought, his mind as bright and clear as the moon smiling down upon him,
I will go to you, my beloved Phaedra. But not to sleep with you, but to put you back into the ground where you belong.

At some point Lee dosed. He lay on his side in a fetal position, resting in the healing moonlight that caressed him and turned his once tanned body into alabaster. He rested, half asleep, yearning for Phaedra, aching for her; not to bed her, but to drive an iron stake through her pretty little head and impale her into the cliffs painted with alien stick figures. He licked his lips, tasted dried blood, and despite his desire to kill her, his manhood rose. He reached down and soothed it.

A soft sigh came from the far corner of the room. Someone, his newborn instincts told him, had slipped into the room. It wasn’t Phaedra but someone else: someone warm and fresh and filled with hot young blood.

In an instant he was on his feet. He rushed toward the slave girl hiding in the shadows, but the chain reminded him he was being kept on a leash, and like a dog that had ventured to the limits of his chain, he too was yanked backwards. He launched himself at her again, yet she did not move. He couldn’t quite reach her, not quite, but he could touch her cheek with his fingertips. And she, being unafraid, stood her ground.

His hunger did not include her, he realized, at least not the kind of hunger that allowed him to drain four strong men in a matter of minutes. Already erect, Lee felt himself growing harder, and she, unashamed, watched. The girl pressed herself against the wall and let her eyes move upward to his. She bit down on her knuckle, her eyes lowering to gaze again upon his erection.

“You’re not scared of me,” Lee whispered, his voice raspy as if he had just recovered from Whooping Cough.

“No,” she said.

Lee ran his tongue over his lips. “You know what she did to me don’t you?”

The girl nodded.

Lee looked her up and down, appraising her. Her eyes were large and expressive, her body curvy and luscious underneath the slave’s rags she wore. Lee was certain she’d taste like fresh picked blackberries.

“You’re the girl from the kitchen,” he recalled.

She nodded, never taking her eyes from him.

“What’s your name little girl?” he asked.

“Livvy.”

“And sweet Livvy of the blackberries,” he said, his tone seductive, “are you sure you’re not scared of me?”

Livvy shook her head.

Lee placed one hand on the wall near her head, and traced the curve of her ample breast with the tip of his finger. He leaned forward as close as the chain allowed. Livvy did not move. “I’m the big bad wolf,” he whispered, “and pretty little girls shouldn’t come into the wolf’s lair unless there’s’ something they want. Tell me, pretty Livvy, what could you possibly want with a big bad wolf?”

She opened her mouth to speak and the door slammed open. The spell was broken. Bruce the bartender grabbed Livvy by the arm and hauled her out the door. Seconds later, a man was shoved through. He hit the floor at Lee’s feet.

The door slammed shut, and Lee heard the distinct sound of the door bolt engaging the hasp. His mind riveted to the sound of scuffing boots and the scent of raw meat and blood. Lee watched his prey the way a snake regards a rat.

The man scrambled to his feet, his face flushed, his eyes wide with fear. The man sweated like an overridden horse and to Lee’s surprise it smelled good. Really good, the same kind of good that came from smelling roasted meat cooking over an open spit.

The cowboy crouched, his arms wide, giving Lee that one last act of defiance look that came from men who knew their time was up but wasn’t giving up without a fight. He lunged toward Lee, swinging a meaty fist at his jaw. With speed that shocked even Lee, he ducked the blow, grabbed the man by the throat and tossed him onto the floor.

The man fought, but there was little he could do. Lee’s blood thirst kicked in and he sated it to full measure.

****

I’m going to kill her,
Lee decided with the same finality as he would give purchasing a horse. He rested with his back against the wall, his mind clear as he listened to Phaedra’s siren call, which was loud and strong now. His body longed to rip free from the shackles that bound him, to rush up into the mountains and spend heated nights with the red siren that unmade him. But the spark of soul that was left behind after she had taken everything away from him burned like an ember in his mind. He watched as the living came into his room and extracted the dead.

“What is she?” he asked the day riders. “What am I?”

The men ignored him.

At some point he dozed again, and again he could hear Phaedra’s song. His body yearned for her, ached in a way that he never had for any woman before. He loved her. He worshiped at her altar. And when the time was right, he was going to bury her.

****

He woke with a start, aware that someone else was in the room. Livvy, the slave girl, had returned. She crouched just before him and so close that he could grab her and drain her in an instant. Yet he did not. He craved other things from her, but not her blood.

“I see you’re back, pretty Livvy.”

She was silent for the span of several heartbeats. “Father Miguel told me once it’s a sin to make a deal with the devil,” she said, her voice soft and clear, “but I think I done my time with him.” She cast a hated glance at the door. Her hand was curled over something that she was hiding in her lap. “That old fat pig of a bartender has been rutting around on me since he bought me from Old man McKenna last spring. Massa weren’t worth a hoot in hell, as he beat me every chance he got, but at least he didn’t do what Massa Bruce did.” She cocked her head, studying him. “I figure the worst thing you can do is suck me dry like you did those mens back there, and after what I done been through that’s not such a bad thing.”

“What do you want?” Lee heard himself ask.

“They’s some things about this town you need to know. And some things about Phaedra you need to know too, since you’re studying on going up there on her mountain and killing her.”

“How did you know about that?” Lee asked. “I ain’t said anything about killing anyone.”

“Yes, you have. In your sleep.” Livvy’s teeth glistened as she smiled. The whites of her eyes caught the fading moonlight, giving her a Cheshire cat appearance. “You talk a lot in your sleep.”

“How long have I been here?” he asked.

“Nearly a month. Massa Bruce and Preacher Hopkins, they’s the ones who are making sure you’re kept fed and still. You’re their pet now, so they say. They say you brought it on your own self, for not leaving when you were told.” She paused and cast an ugly glance at the manacle and chain. “Any time someone breaks the law—whether it be men’s law or God’s law--they send them up here to you for judgment.”

“Maybe I should feel remorseful, but I don’t, strangely enough,” Lee said.

“They’s bad men, everyone in Casey is bad. You ain’t doing no sin in feeding off of them as far as I can tell.”

“What do you mean?”

Livvy moved closer to him. “That she devil Phaedra showed up two years ago, and not in the usual way. But in a covered wagon filled with folks that’s done died of cholera. All of them was dead but she weren’t. She told the white folk she could keep the town safe from Comanches if she was allowed to feed off anyone who comes along, but if they didn’t agree, then she’d feed off whoever she pleased in the town.” Livvy offered a half-hearted laugh. “And when they said no, she did. She killed every first born chile in town.”

“What does this have to do with me?”

Livvy settled back on her heels. “Well, I looks at it this way. These good white folk knew what they were getting into. They let Phaedra turn you into one of her kind. And then afterwards chained you up here and turned you into the town’s pet. Now, I know a lot about being a slave, since I’ve been one since I was a baby, and I know it’s a hard cross to bear. But they’re doing to you the same as me. And I figure if we work together we could both be free.”

“Aren’t you afraid I’m gonna eat you up, little girl?”

“I ain’t afraid of death,” Livvy said lifting her chin. “And I ain’t afraid of you, either.”

“Alright, smart girl, what have you got in mind?”

“I figure if I turned you loose, you’d be free to feed on anyone you like. Like, maybe Massa Bruce the bartender. And probably that evil old preacher too, since keeping you chained up in here was his idea.”

“And how do you think that’s going to happen?” Lee asked.

Livvy smiled again, the failing moonlight etching the line of her cheek. She opened her hands, revealing a ring of keys. “If I turn you loose, will you do as I ask? Will you make me a free woman?”

“I promise.”

“I don’t know, white man’s word don’t mean much to me,” Livvy said, and for an awful moment, Lee thought she was about to change her mind. Or was she teasing him? It wouldn’t take much to wrest the key from her, break her scrawny neck and then set out to do as he pleased. He looked into her eyes, so young, so earnest. There was a fluttering of hope in them. She wasn’t going to go back on her word. She was afraid he was going to go back on his.

“I’m not a white man,” Lee said. “I’m a dead man.”

Livvy handed him the key.