Page 32 of Fangs and Family
I rushed inside at the finality in the voice’s tone, but for all my speed, I was confronted by the sight of a lifeless body crashing to the floor as the baseball bat used to crush his skull swung around his killer’s laughing face.
The rage I’d bottled up erupted in an explosion of bone and feathers as my wings tore my shirt apart.
I don’t remember moving, but as my claws tore through the killer’s surprised face, the sour taste of chemically enhanced blood hit my tongue. The cocktail of drugs he took, likely to suppress any doubts or inhibitions, splashed across my mouth, and I licked my lips.
With disgust twisting my features, I tore my hapless victim’s throat apart before turning to his terrified companions.
My enemies’ initial shock quickly changed to fury, goading them into action, and they attacked, screaming and cursing, wielding whatever they had to hand.
I laughed in derision at the knives held by the first two. I almost felt sorry for the idiot with the crowbar, but he at least seemed in complete control as he barrelled into his compatriots, stopping them in their tracks. The little moue of disappointment I offered the men increased their anger, but I stepped back and concentrated, banishing my wings and straightening the tie on my ruined shirt.
‘I must be going soft.’ I held my hands up to prove I had transformed fully. ‘I’ll give you a chance. Well, it’s not much of one. Even so, I want a little entertainment before I kill you.’
My provocative words didn’t have the effect I intended. The three men stood there, frozen in fear. I had surprised myself when I’d stopped my attack, my conscience pricking me for slaying an unprepared opponent, but now, despite their lack of ability, they at least had a choice at what happened next.
When they still didn’t move, my anger grew, and I shouted out in frustration.
‘Fight, you cowards!’
My command broke through their daze, and they looked at each other and their weapons, communicating silently. A wordless bellow echoed through the warehouse as they charged, the knife-wielding fighters circling to the sides as the furious male with the crowbar advanced, his weapon held above his head.
The rapture of battle made my lips stretch wide, my smile making my attackers stumble, but it was too late; my fist was already hurtling forward, and I felt the resistance of the man’s muscles tearing apart. I focused my attention on my opponent’s face as the pain registered. Each moment passed in slow motion, his eyes dilating till the iris disappeared, his features twisting, contorting into a rictus of agony. Finally, as my hand thrust up into his chest and tore away his heart, blood burst from his mouth, covering my face with his life’s essence.
The blood tasted of fear and cocaine, its velvet smoothness enriched by the intensity of his emotion. It was nothing like Nina’s. Her blood, sweet with the lingering spice of her beautiful soul, tasted like home. She was my fate, my kismet, and I left her all alone because I could not contain my inner monster.
The one I drank from now was screaming in utter terror. This taste, this feeling, matched my desperation. In my darkest hour, I took his life to sustain mine. I snapped my head forward, plunging my teeth into his artery, drawing as much pungent liquid as possible.
I laughed, the sound tinged with madness as the sharp stabbing pain of a knife plunging into my kidney reminded me of the presence of my other attackers. The pain felt good, and for the first time in so long, thoughts of Nina weren’t dominating my mind. I allowed myself to be impressed at the skill used for the strike, the blow a killing one if I were human. Unfortunately for this man, I wasn’t human, and I proved it as I crushed his fingers to a pulp and ripped the knife from my body.
The poor bastard didn’t have more than a moment to regret his choices, as with a twist, I broke his arm and buried the knife in his skull, not even looking as his body fell limp and dead to the floor, my attention already on the final opponent and his pathetic weapon.
I studied the man before me, the shaking knife, the wild, panic-stricken eyes and sweat leaking from every pore.
‘Not so brave now, hmm, little mouse?’ I couldn’t resist licking the blood coating my lips, all the while looking into this pathetic bastard’s eyes, feeling like the proverbial cat playing with his prey.
A large gulp preceded the loosening of my opponent’s grip on his knife, but before the weapon hit the ground, I held my victim by the throat, his feet dangling helplessly in the air.
‘You weren’t thinking of leaving so soon? Things were just about to get interesting,’ I said, flashing my fangs. The sour stench of fear intensified, and he tried to escape.
The darkness I tamed my entire existence rose to the surface. The scent of his terror was delicious. The hunger, unquenched for the last two years, exploded inside me as I pulled the man closer.
I licked my victim’s throat, enjoying his flinching reaction and the speeding pulse, adrenaline pumping so hard I could almost taste it. I shouldn’t play with my food, but I couldn’t resist.
‘There is a woman, you know. One drop of her blood would satisfy me in a way that all of yours never could, but I cannot touch her. Nina. She’s the reason for your death. I want you to know her name, and I want you to take it with you to the underworld. Find the soul of the bastard who attacked her, and tell him his undead husk will be next because you will die, my delicious morsel, and I won’t be calling you back.’
‘Please… please, I have a family.’ He begged, hands beating helplessly against my body, trying to push me away.
‘You want mercy? What mercy did you show to those guards? What about their families? Did you stop to ask if I had a family when you attacked?’ My voice held derision, but that couldn’t hide the bitterness. ‘If the world knew mercy, I would be holding my woman, kissing away her tears. There is no mercy, not for me, and certainly not for you.’
With a growl, I sank my fangs into the man’s carotid. The artery pulsed faster under my mouth as I drank. It only took moments before his pulse became erratic. I would usually finish my feed at this point as anything more could hurt the human, but not today. This man deserved to die, and I was so very, very hungry.
I didn’t inject the pleasure venom to ease him into the afterlife. His fear satiated my hunger. Cheap alcohol and a cocktail of illicit drugs added to the vintage. The adrenaline in his blood boosted my strength, increasing the speed of my healing. I felt like a god reborn, enjoying the moment his pulse slowed down and struggles became weaker, the moment of death approaching. I felt the instant his spirit fled, leaving behind a lump of dead flesh in my hands.
As I lifted my mouth from my victim’s neck, I couldn’t help looking into his dead eyes. He was the first person I’d killed whilst feeding, potentially my first spawn.
If I left his body untouched, so close to the Gates of the Neter, the magic of this place would rise him at sundown tomorrow, confused and frightened, just as I was all those centuries ago.
The hunger… I shouldn’t forget that urge, the insatiable thirst for blood that would drive a fledgling vampire into the sun, desperate for sustenance. However, if I were there when he awoke, I could guide him, and he would do anything I asked in unquestioning obedience. That’s how the Seethe worked. No youngling could resist an order from their Maker, but I’d never wanted that, never wanted a slave.
