Tears of Blood (2 page)

Chapter
2

Versailles, France, 1660

Sarahi looked around the sumptuous
bedroom in which she was hiding. Though she rarely concerned herself with the
fate of mortals, even she had to admit  this luxury was wasteful. Ragged
peasants succumbed to disease in the streets, their children starved, yet the
king and his court dared flaunt their excesses in such a fashion. It was
faintly disgusting. Of course, with all their leisure time these corpulent
noblemen and women enjoyed, indulging in lustful interludes was almost a given.

There was a sound of a key turning
in a lock, a feminine giggle. Quickly, Sarahi shrank down to the size of a
mouse and hid among the assortment of colored glass perfume bottles littering
the boudoir table below a huge gilded mirror. She glanced at the bed. Massive
wooden posts, carved with intricate designs, hung with royal blue silk, surrounded
the most luxurious of bedding in blue and gold brocade pulled back to reveal
gleaming white linens.

A giggling matron in her middle
thirties, her head covered in a powdered wig of astonishing height, pulled a
much younger man into the room and locked the door. He had his face buried in
the cleavage revealed by the low front of her gown. She dragged him to the bed.

"Déshabillez-vous,"
he told her, formal even in such an intimate setting.

"Fais-le
toi-même," she shot back, turning so he could unlace her gown. He
began eagerly pulling at the strings.

Sarahi drank in their desire. Ahhh,
that was better. Of all the choices available to her, voyeur was best. They
were going to do this anyway. What difference did it make if she took a little
taste? They would attribute their fatigue to satiation, and recover fully by
tomorrow.

A shadow crossed in front of the
window, and Sarahi looked up sharply. The couple, still struggling with the
lacings of the woman’s cumbersome gown, did not react at all.

Naphil...I have to
get out of here...

But then Sarahi detected the
tell-tale fragrance, even masked as it was by the sweat of the unwashed couple
finally embracing naked on the bed.

"Succubus, I know you’re
here."

Oh, that voice... just the sound of
it was more satisfying than anything happening on the other side of the room.
Cautiously, she stepped out from between the bottles, to the edge of the table.

"Lucien," she called
softly. Over the centuries, they had found each other often, and while she
could feel the beautiful half-angel’s desire spark every time he saw her,
he remained stubbornly faithful to his vow of celibacy. That shattering kiss
they’d shared in Rome had never been repeated, much to Sarahi’s
disappointment.

"You," he growled.

"Are you going to slay me this
time?" she teased.

"Are you harming
anyone?"

"Never. Just having a bit of
lunch, courtesy of our friends over there. You didn’t really think you
would be able to dissuade them, did you? They’ve been lusting after each
other for weeks."

"With your help," he
reminded her, his voice an accusation.

"I may have whispered a few
suggestions in his ear, but, Lucien, if he didn’t want her, it
wouldn’t have mattered. Just as you cannot stop someone who is truly
determined, I cannot create desire where none exists. You and I are two sides
of the same coin, love. We can only enhance what is already there."

He gave her an angry look, his onyx
eyes flashing in the dark skin of his beautiful face.

"Don’t, Lucien. If you
dislike it so much, why don’t you feed me yourself?" She felt her
eyes glowing hot as she voiced her greatest wish aloud.

His face first registered surprise
at her boldness, followed by longing, and then rage.

"Why? I have no desire to be
one of your legion of lovers."

"I have no lovers. No legion.
Not even one. This is the only way I feed, now. It’s so much better this
way."

"Then why..."

"Oh, my dearest angel, surely
you must know how I desire you. Only you, Lucien."

For the most fleeting of moments,
desire flared in his eyes, and then was quickly suppressed. His back teeth
ground together. "I have sworn vows."

"I know you have. One of them
was to kill any succubus on sight, was it not? How well have you kept that
vow?"

He swallowed hard, but said nothing.
She stepped off the edge of the table. His big hand shot out and caught her as
she fell, just as she had hoped he would.

"Don’t tempt me, Sarahi.
No good can come of it." He lifted her up close to his face.

"I disagree, Lucien. Every
good can come of it."

"I won’t feed
you."

She wrapped her body around his
finger, letting him feel her lush curves. Her ruby-colored dress was thin and
she wore no undergarments. She kissed his fingertip.

"You already have," she
teased. But it was the wrong thing to say. Snarling, he set her back on the
table and disappeared.

Sarahi smiled ruefully at herself as
the couple on the bed ground their bodies together, moaning. Their lust tasted
terrible after the clean sweetness of Lucien. A moment later, she disappeared
as well.

Chapter
3

New York, 1923

Sarahi looked at herself in the full
length mirror and adjusted her dress so  the black lace settled even lower
on her ample bosom, creating a rather ridiculous amount of cleavage. Her victim
would not be able to see her, so it didn't matter whether she looked her best
or not, but she wanted to be successful, and when she looked sexy, she felt
sexy. Sarahi was ravenous tonight. But this party in the penthouse of a luxury
apartment building would be an easy place to feed. For three hours, she had
followed her lusty victim through a haze of alcohol, music, and women in short,
fringed skirts, whispering suggestions in his ear. Soon it would be time to
move in for the kill... figuratively speaking of course. In the morning,
he’d have a monster of a hangover, compliments of Sarahi.

She glanced around the room. In a
city which had so little available space, owning an extra bedroom to use as a
dressing room was a sure sign of extreme wealth. Only a red velvet chaise and a
carved wardrobe took up space on the floor. Tom must be doing quite well.
Sarahi’s stomach rumbled. Time to go get a snack.

Tossing her burgundy hair over her
shoulder, she gave herself one last look, and then, satisfied with her
appearance, she flashed to her usual spot on her victim's left shoulder. She
was pleased to see Lucien, in all his midnight beauty, on the right. The lovely
angel man had resisted her a long time, but he was wavering. She could feel it.
Perhaps she could feed more directly tonight. She only wanted to when he was
there.

A wicked smile curled her lips
upwards. She turned her attention to her  victim, Tom, with his curly
brown hair and pretty blue eyes. He owned this apartment and his wealth showed
in his luxurious bedroom. The polished floor gleamed, as did the satin bedding
on which a woozy-looking woman reclined, looking up with unfocused eyes. From
outside, the sounds of the party continued unabated.

He was delicious, and the desire
radiating from him started to fill her empty belly immediately. He was already
slightly drunk, which would make her job so much easier. She watched his mouth
descend again towards the pretty and intoxicated blond whom he had already
kissed so deeply, his hands lifting the skirt of her short, fringed dress.

"Do it," she purred in his
ear. Her seductive voice sounded like his own inside his head, and he did not
realize he was being tempted by an evil creature like herself. "Take
her," Sarahi continued. "You know she wants it. She came here to get
this from you, and she's not really that drunk. She's only had two gin
fizzies... maybe three. No more than three. She knows what she desires."

She sensed him considering and
pressed. "Just think how it would feel... hmm soooo good." Her voice
became sticky and slow, like molasses. And then she shimmied over to the side
of his head. Her little pink tongue snaked out, licking the ear almost as big
as she was. He shivered as though he could feel it. He was hooked now. Time to
take a chance.

Sarahi sidled around his neck,
trailing her fingers at his sensitive hairline, and addressed Lucien directly.

"He's all yours. Choose,
Lucien. Do you save the guilty from themselves? Or do you come with me? Please
me, and you can have all this." She trailed her fingertips across her
cleavage, delighted to see the angel's eyes following her movements.
"Don't disappoint me."

Then she disappeared.

Sarahi flashed herself back to the
still-empty dressing room and waited. She had invited him before, but he had
never come. Maybe tonight would be different.

She stretched out on a red velvet
chaise, arms behind her head, and waited. Over the centuries it had become
easier to incite lust and feed from it, but after all this time, she could
never let go of what she really wanted; the naphil Lucien in her bed. She was
nearly frantic with it.

His scent wafted across her
nostrils. Her nipples hardened painfully and she felt herself growing wet.

"Sarahi?"

"Lucien."

"What did you want,
Succubus?" His voice sounded weary.

"You know what I want. I told
you in Versailles, over four hundred years ago. Nothing has changed. I want
you."

"Why?"

"Who can say? I certainly
can’t explain it."

"I don’t want to feed
you."

"I can’t help that.
It’s what I am. But that’s not why I want you."

"Then why?"

"Come over here, my love, and
find out."

He approached cautiously and knelt
on the floor beside her.

"Have you forgotten how it was
in Rome? I’ve never had a kiss like that."

"Sarahi, I’ve never had
a kiss other than that."

She couldn’t help smiling, and
the smile seemed to draw him to her like a static charge. As though against his
will, his arms slipped around her waist and he lowered his mouth to hers,
taking the lead as though he had the experience of all his centuries of
existence behind him. It was the hottest kiss she’d ever had, far
eclipsing that long ago day in Rome.

It seemed he’d never forgotten
that day either, the day he’d first encountered temptation. Then,
she’d tasted the inside of his mouth. Now he returned the favor, plunging
his tongue past those naturally red lips.

She moaned at the honey sweet taste
of him, snaking her arms around the bulky thickness of his shoulders, pulling
him even closer. He climbed onto the chaise, straddling her body, pressing her
down into the soft upholstery which matched her hair. She wrapped her legs
around his waist, pulling him down until he was fully pressed against her.

She hadn’t been sure what kind
of sex organs a naphil might have, but the bulge grinding into her felt normal,
apart from the lovely size of it. This was going to be spectacular, worth all
the centuries she had waited. She hummed into his mouth.

"Touch me, my angel,"
she murmured, when he released her mouth to drag air into his lungs. She took
his hand from behind her back where it embraced her and guided it to one of her
full breasts, tugging down the fabric to expose it.

For a moment, he caressed her there,
and the sight of his ebony skin against her gleaming white flesh made her catch
her breath. Such a beautiful contrast.

And then he stopped.

"I... Sarahi, I can’t...
No." He rose from the chaise.

"Lucien, please. Don’t
go."

"I swore a vow."

"Who would know?"

"
He
would."

"God?"

"The head of the elder
council, our governing body. He would know."

"Is he omniscient?"

"No, but how could I keep it
from him?"

"You could, if you
tried."

"No, Sarahi. I can’t.
I... I’m sorry."

And he vanished from the room as
though he had never been there.

Sarahi turned over on the chaise and
wept into the scarlet upholstery. Her belly was full, but her heart was
breaking.