Page 30 of The Nephilim's Finesse

What had transgressed? I did remember lying in the woods, waiting for death. A man drinking my blood, his wrist in my mouth, his vital fluid rippling down my throat, my body shaking vigorously. Wakening here.

I sat up in bed and took a view of myself to behold that I wore a white shift I had never seen before. Getting out of bed, I glided my fingers over my belly and noted that it was flat. I wasn’t pregnant anymore. Lifting my shift, I examined my body. It was perfect. All my scars were gone. Everything that Goodwyn had done to me, where he had left his mark on me, was gone. Taking a few steps towards a small mirror, wherein I could discern nothing but the shift but not my own face. How was that possible?

In the distance, I heard two pairs of footsteps: one heavy as if it were of a man's and one light, yet accompanied by a slight limp. The door was opened shortly after, and a man stepped into the room, his heartbeat slow. His long, blond hair was bound at his nape, his skin pale and aristocratic. He wore a fitted, silken jacket that reached to the waist and tight-fitting breaches finishing slightly below the knees. Both had decorative elements such as embroidery and gold threads, which spun a delicate pattern. A linen shirt with a high collar and cuffs was visible beneath the jacket. His boots were made of leather and were polished. To complete his look, he wore four gold rings with gemstones and a ring with his heraldry.

Behind him stood a young woman in a humble dress, wearing a simple linen bodice and an ankle-length skirt, with a white apron over her dress and a white cap on her head. From her smell, it was the same maid that touched the linens. Her heartbeat was strong and steady. She smelt delicious. Unexpectedly, an insatiable craving came upon me. My teeth elongated, and saliva pooled in my mouth. I wanted to feast on her, bite her, suck her blood. I clapped my hands over my mouth. What was wrong with me?

“Welcome to my home. I know you’ll have many questions and I shall answer them all in good time. However, first matters must come first. You’re a vampire now, and I have brought you your first meal.”

At his prompting, the fair maid stepped forward and curtseyed shyly in my direction. The vein in her neck pulsed, and I was upon her in a blur, biting through the skin to suck the delicious blood from her. Since when did I savour blood? What did the man say? Was I a vampire now? Was it not a mere myth that creatures such as vampires existed? Yet here I was, enraptured in such an act. It was addicting, and I never wanted to stop.

“That’s enough,” the man said. I ignored him. With a sudden pull, he separated me from the maid and thanked her for now.

Panting, I licked the ruby liquid off my lips.

“There's much to learn for you. My name is Thorne Ashcroft. Once the Duke of Vernon many centuries ago. For now, all you must concern yourself with is knowing that I’m your sire.”

As I came back to reality, I realised Raph was waiting patiently for my answer to his question. My lungs felt heavy as I forced out the words. "I was badly wounded," I said, my voice barely a whisper. "My sire found me, bleeding to death, and turned me."

Raph raised an eyebrow, telling me that this wasn’t enough.

"It was in Warwickshire," I continued. "The winter of 1654. I was nineteen."

Raph leant in briefly before pulling away with a fascinated glint in his eyes. “Who is your sire?” Raph asked curiously, a hint of anticipation in his voice.

I met his gaze with a cold smile. “That is a question for another time, as you haven’t paid for it.”

“I have a proposal,” stated Raph.

Raising my eyebrows, I waited for him to continue.

“After touching you the last time, I want to use my mouth on you. If you want that.”

Flashes of his description back in the other cell, what he wanted to do with me, how he wanted to lick at my core, rushed through my mind, and I felt the heat building in my face. I bit my lips and nodded slowly.

Raph studied me momentarily, assessing if I really wanted this and was ready for it. He gave himself a slight nod.

“Since my focus will be elsewhere, I won’t be able to see what you are up to. I have to take precautions. There are two possibilities: one, I could shackle you to the bed frame.”

My eyes went wide, my heart accelerated, and panic started to creep in. But his voice kept me in the here and now.

“Two: another Nephilim, John is his name. You met him already; could keep watch next to you.”

“No shackles,” I breathed.

Raph nodded as if he expected this answer. He looked at the camera in the corner and beckoned at it. A minute later, the door opened, and the young man with short, curly brown hair and green eyes came into the room. With his small, elongated nose and subtle lips, he fitted into today’s line of famous British actors. He looked almost like a boy, so young. As did I. Being turned at nineteen, my body was one of a twenty-five-year-old woman nowadays. Back then, times were harsher, and people didn't get health care or weren't always well-nourished. Surely, I wasn’t.

John stood next to Raph, a cheeky grin on his face. In his way, he was cute. Raph was all man, strong, calm, and masculine, whereas John had that naive, careless youth aura around him. I realised that I was attracted to both of them. Maybe all Nephilim were handsome, but with these two, the complete opposites of each, I could imagine being touched by both of them, eventually.

“Tell me if I should touch you with my hands or my lips.”

My gaze focused on Raph’s full lips, desperately wanting to feel them pressed against mine. “Your lips… both.”

He gave me a small smile and leaned down. My heartbeat accelerated. He was about to kiss me! My last kiss dated back almost three hundred and seventy years, as a boy from my village—whose name I had already forgotten, as he’s long since been dust—had clumsily tried to kiss me.

But this kiss wouldn't be clumsy. Raph would claim me, making me his. Was this what I wanted? Yes and no. I wanted to have a real kiss, a good one, one that made my knees weak. And no, I didn’t want to be claimed or be part of someone ever again. But for the next few minutes, I wouldn't mind.

He came closer, and I shut my eyes; I waited for his lips to connect with mine. But it never came. Instead, I felt a soft, warm breath on my neck before he placed a tender caress there. He kissed and then licked between the sensitive skin on my throat and where it connected to my collarbone, sending shudders of pleasure through me. His hands moved to my breast and repeated their skilful play from the last time. He pulled the shirt over my head and moved his lips slowly to my breast, where he licked my nipple while his thumb circled the other. A moan escaped me from the pleasure that ran through me.

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