Archives: Vampire Hunt
Chapter 6: Ileta’s Rebirth
N’shara’s first moments of cognizance recognized that her head ached, her body ached slightly less, and there was a horrible taste in her mouth. However, she could sense the holy aura around her. With a groan, she reached up to touch her forehead. Oh Gods...I’m still alive...I’m being healed, she realized, much to her relief.
“Sister N’shara?” she heard the high priestess, Deasa, speaking.
She opened her eyes to look at the priestess leaning over her. “Yes?” she groaned.
“How are you feeling?” Deasa asked. She took N’shara’s chin in her hand and looked over her face.
“Everything hurts,” she replied. “But...I’m alive.”
“Yes,” Deasa said with a relieved smile and stroked N’shara’s hair. “You were bitten by a vampire. We gave you an elixir that helped your body regenerate your lost blood while we healed you. You’ve been asleep for four hours.” N’shara yawned, listening to the high priestess explain. She still felt tired, her body had been working hard. “Laies and a Falis priest are waiting. They want to talk to you about the vampire. Do you remember much.”
“A little,” N’shara replied. Her mind didn’t seem to want to work. She still remembered his beautiful face, but mostly everything else was a haze. “I’m tired,” she murmured, feeling the urge to drift to sleep.
“Yes, you need your rest,” Deasa said. “Go ahead and sleep. We’ll leave you be.” N’shara nodded, closed her eyes, and quickly fell asleep. In a whisper, Deasa ordered the exhausted Marfa and Falis priests to leave. The high priestess didn’t want to disturb N’shara further. If they forced her to speak now, there was no guarantee she would remember much. Patience was the key here. Unfortunately, the vampire could kill again, but the city’s guard and all the temples had been alerted to his presence.
Reluctantly, Deasa left the infirmary and went back out into the chapel to see Laies and Rone. “Our healing is finished. She woke briefly, but her body is too exhausted to stay awake. She needs to rest a little longer before she is ready to explain what happened,” she informed the men. “You may visit her in the infirmary, but do not wake her.”
“Perhaps you do not understand the dire circumstances this city is in, priestess,” Rone said harshly. “Innocents could be dying right now with every second wasted. I cannot give you hour after hour when a vampire is probably already on his next victim. If she can speak, she should be awakened, lest the draining of another occur because she was tired.” He had already waited for her to become conscious. Now he had to wait longer while she slept? It just would not do. The hunt could not simply wait for her to feel refreshed. Life didn’t work like that. Neither did the accursed. He understood her need for rest, but she could rest all she wanted after Rone and Laies found out what they needed. “If there is a way to keep her lucid for the moment, it needs to be done.”
“Don’t push her,” Laies growled. “She just had a horrible ordeal. It’s not like we have much of a choice as far as waiting. She is still weak. There is no point to make her recovery any slower than it already is.”
Deasa glared sharply at Rone. “I do understand, but I also understand that sister N’shara is not physically or mentally able to speak to you coherently. We have done all we can and her body is exhausted, even with the help of magic. I have done all I can to protect the city. All the temples have been notified, and the city guard has been alerted. If you want to wake her, I can assure you that you will be sorely disappointed in the information you can get from her,” the high priestess lectured. She turned her gaze toward Laies and her eyes softened. “You may sit with her until she wakes, it might do her some good to have a familiar presence by her side.”
“Thank you.” Laies smiled. “I’ll do so.” He excused himself from Rone’s company and went to N’shara. Sitting beside her bed he slipped her hand into his. The same hand she healed hours ago when he protected her from a salamander’s jealousy. His wisp touched her cheek softly trying to convey the feelings of guilt and apology for not staying with her.
“Hmph...” the gruff priest groaned, clearly disappointed with N’shara’s caretakers. This was absurd. “I will be praying in the hope that Falis can do more to speed up this process. As soon as she is coherent, you will summon me immediately,” the Hunter of the Damned said, marching out of the pews in frustration.
For the next few hours, he spent his time in constant prayer, seeking enlightenment from Falis on what to do. His God, he hoped could do better in solving his problems than theirs had. He was ordained to destroy the enemies of the light of the most impure kind, not wait for the invalids of the world and nurse them to health. His mind could only be in one place: his work.
* * *
After coming back in, Dutia asked to take the night off and was quickly denied. The innkeeper was upset about Ileta walking out, he wasn’t about to have another maid leave early. Inga had to go home at the end of her shift to take care of her children, so that would have just left Hinny alone, since the innkeeper and his wife had to go to bed as well.
Darin agreed to wait, though he obviously frustrated that he wouldn’t be getting laid at night. Even though they had to wait, Dutia was nervous about it. She continued about her duties, and the remaining patrons retired to bed, except Darin, who was determined to stay up all night and wait for her.
Inga’s shift ended, and the innkeeper asked if she could check on Ileta and give her a warning for him. Inga said she couldn’t spare a moment to go across town when she had to hurry home to her kids. The innkeeper let her go and continued seething over Ileta.
“Bloody whore...Can’t believe she’d just walk out with two hours left on her shift....” the innkeeper muttered near Dutia at the bar.
His wife came up behind him, looking ready to turn in for the night. “Daim, talk to her in the morning,” Tanildy told him. “Just come get some sleep.”
“I’m going to wait for her to come back and give her a piece of my mind...” Daim muttered.
Tanildy rolled her eyes. “Well, I’m going to bed,” she said firmly and went upstairs, leaving Daim to fume.
He glanced suspiciously to Darin, then he turned to Dutia. “Fine, if you want your time off, first you have to check on Ileta for me. Go to her apartment and tell her that I’m docking her pay and if she tries this again, I’m going to fire her. Come back and let me know what’s going on, then you can take your couple hours off.”
Dutia was surprised, and the bundle of nerves in her stomach gained about ten pounds. She looked to Darin and met his eyes for a moment. He seemed hopeful. “Yessir,” she said, bowing her head. She ducked out of the bar to join her mercenary companion.
“You’d better be back here right after you talk to her! What are you taking him for?” Daim asked, eying at her as she went to Darin.
“Protection,” Dutia quickly replied.
“Fine, just go to Ileta’s apartment and come straight back!” Daim insisted.
“I will, I promise. Thank you sir!” Dutia said and grabbed Darin’s arm, tugging him out towards the street.
* * *
Ileta slept in a strange barely-conscious dream as she hovered between life and death. The same themes looped in her mind, now which she could barely comprehend. As she woke, her body felt odd. Somehow hollow and cold. Not cold on the outside, but on the inside, and it wasn’t uncomfortable, it was just there. As her eyes flickered open, she was greeted by a close view of her ceiling, but she wasn’t actually close to it. She could see it’s details as clearly as if she were sitting not but a few inches away. It was rather strangely lit, sort of as if dusk were falling, but not quite. Places that were usually shadowed, she could see. She was weak and felt hungry, but it wasn’t the sort of hunger she was familiar with. Her mouth had a metallic taste in it, the taste of blood which she was used to only tasting when she cut her lip, or had some sort of wound in her mouth, and now, she craved it.
Last night....I was bitten by a vampire, Ileta thought, but that couldn’t be true. That couldn’t happen to her. Maybe it was a dream. Her hand moved up to her neck as she thought, and she was shocked to feel a crust of dried blood on her skin. She felt further to find two bumps on her neck, like old, healed over scars. Aryen had bitten her, and then given her his blood from a cut in his wrist. She couldn’t remember much beyond that except that she was certain she died.
The barmaid sat up in bed, skin and hair ripping apart from the dried blood on her sheets and pillow, and she scanned her room with her improved vision. Sitting across the room from her bed in her chair was the beautiful man she brought home and who sunk his fangs into her throat, now fully dressed and staring at her intently with sharp blue eyes peering out from beneath his black bangs, his long fingered hand over his mouth. From behind his hand, she could see the corner of his lips pull up in a smirk.
“Ahh, so you have finally awakened in your new form,” Aryen said, the smirk still upon his lips. His eyes glaring at her, watching her responses to the new feelings and abilities she now possessed. He stood from the chair he was sitting in, approaching her slowly. “So, how does it feel to be one of my kind? You will find new abilities and powers that will come to your liking, I would think,” he said, approaching the corner of the bed.
Ileta scooted back against her headboard as he moved toward her, clutching her sheet to her bare chest protectively. New form? One of his kind? Did...he make me a vampire? Ileta thought. “What did you do to me?” she said, accusation heavy in her tone. She was defensive, but something in her mind was trying to reach out to him. There was a connection to him. She did her best to ignore it.
A smirk appeared on his lips as he sat on the edge of the bed. Aryen had been reading her movements, and he looked over her, examining every bit of her to see how her body had been reacting to the new transformation, plus to see if she would show any form of hostility towards him, even though she was his creation. “What did I do to you? Well, to answer your questions, put simply, I made you into one of my kind, a Vampire. I gave you the gift I possess. Your body will never show signs of time again. You have been changed into an Immortal, like me,” he said softly.
“A...gift?” Ileta asked, incredulously. How could being a vampire be a gift? Forsaken by the gods (of light at least), required to feed on the blood of the living, unable to live in the light; how could that be a gift? If she ever wanted to be something ageless and immortal, why couldn’t she have been turned into an elf.
“No!” she spat. “How could you do this to me? You’re a monster!” She wanted to cry, but the tears weren’t coming easily. She reached up to clasp her throat, feeling over the scars. It was odd that they were scars and not gaping wounds. Now that she was more cognizant, she realized that she was feeling quite exhausted and thirsty. However, what she wanted was blood. The thought made her feel horrible.
Aryen’s smirk disappeared quickly as he heard her hurtful words. “Hmm, so I’m a monster am I? Well, it wouldn’t be the first time I’ve been called that,” he said, his gaze moving away from her to look towards the window, out into the darkness of the night he had learned to call his home. “I chose you for a reason, because I thought you were worthy of this gift,” he said, his gaze turning back towards her. Aryen reached his hand out to her, placing his hand gently upon hers, which was upon her neck touching her scars.
Ileta felt the sting of her words from him. There was that connection again. She hurt him, and she felt it keenly. It hurt her too, to see him wounded like that. Why should I care? The bastard drank my blood and turned me into a damned blood-sucker too! she cursed in her mind. He touched her hand gently, and it sent her stomach fluttering for some reason. He cares for you... Who else has cared this much? the thought came, almost as if it were someone else’s, but it was her voice. He’s got some way of showing it...
“I’m not worthy...” she started, and stopped. Why wasn’t she worthy of this curse he kept calling a gift? “I didn’t want this,” she said, as if to replace her first comment. A tear finally rolled out of her eye and down her cheek.
Aryen reached up, brushing the tear away. His hand gently caressed hers, a smile slowly returning to his lips. “Do not worry, I will take care of you in your time of need. You are indeed worthy of this gift, even though you may think of it as a curse, you will learn to like this way of life. I will teach you everything there is to know, as I was taught by my creator,” he said softly, trying to help her feel better.
She looked down at his hand as he brushed her tear away. The gesture was chipping away at the protective barriers she had raised against the struggle of emotions in her. He cares... the new voice whispered. Ileta considered it. He did show far more affection and concern for her than most other men. He actually bothered to make her happy earlier. No one else did anything for her, they only cared as long as they got off. Though, those men also didn’t bite her throat and drink her blood.
All his talk about teaching her and taking care of her was overwhelming. She was just barely coming to grips with being a vampire—which she couldn’t quite accept at this point. There was no denying that she changed from what he had done, she could feel it inside her. Her senses were sharper and...she craved blood. She was weak and knew that she was hungry, though it wasn’t her stomach telling her so. It was more...instinct. Ileta knew how vampires fed—that much was obvious from what she had learned from stories—she would have to kill to sustain herself. “I’m...I’m hungry, I think,” she said softly, avoiding his gaze.
“Then you should feed. It’s the most important part of a vampire’s life.” He stood from the bed, extending his hand to her to help her to her feet. “Let us go find you an easy meal,” he said softly, waiting for her to take his hand.
Ileta didn’t stand. Feed...easy meal, he makes it sound so innocent, she thought. She drew her knees to her chest and wrapped her arms around them. “I...I have to kill someone?” she asked. How could she do such a thing? Maybe if she didn’t, she could die and avoid a cursed life. But, would he allow her to just starve herself to death? “I don’t think I can. It’s wrong...and evil.”
Animals kill to eat. Humans kill animals to eat. I’m not human anymore...I’m better, the voice of the new Ileta, the vampire, murmured in her head. Her instincts were clawing at her desperately. She was so hungry and thirsty, but no food tempted her, only blood. No...I’m not better, I’m a monster like him, she argued back.
Is he such a monster? Sure, he drank you blood, but he was good to you before that, wasn’t he? Didn’t he care enough to save you instead of letting you die? new Ileta tried reasoning. What life are you leaving behind? Tending bars and whoring yourself out for meaningless trinkets? How long can you do that? Who would want to marry a whore? Why buy the cow when you can get the milk for free...
“No...” Ileta murmured and leaned her head down on her knees to cry. The new Ileta was making sense. Where would her life go from here? She gave herself away so readily that it would be nearly impossible to find herself a husband, and have legitimate children. She would grow old and her beauty would wither away until she died an old hag with a bunch of fatherless brats. And now it was too late to change the course of her human life. It was over.
Aryen shook his head, he surely wasn’t going to let his first creation starve herself to death. “It is the way we live. We must take the life of another in order to sustain our immortal bodies,” he said softly to her. He moved his hand away for a moment, kneeling onto the bed, then placed his hand under her chin and moving her face up to look at his, his thumb gently caressing her cheek. “Don’t worry, you may be afraid of all these things now, but in time you will learn to like it. It will be much better than the life you were living before wont it?” he asked her softly.
Ileta eyed him oddly when he suggested that her life would be better now. It was eerie, since she had been arguing the same point with herself. However, his gentle touch was making it hard to fight him, and that look in his eyes was almost desperate. He wanted her to accept him. To be by his side?
This is what being such a beautiful whore gets you, she insulted herself. “I...don’t want to live this way,” she whispered. Her eyes avoided his. They were almost convincing her.
Aryen gave a look of worry for her, hearing her words almost convinced him that she wouldn’t accept her new form, and she would just starve herself to death. “Please, let me help you, I want to be able to assist you in any way,” he said, moving forward on the bed a little more. He lifted her chin again, turning her face back to face him, his eyes staring into hers with a worried look in them.
See? Your hurting him, the new Ileta warned.
I don’t care, he ruined my life! she argued back.
Did he really?
Ileta became transfixed by his beautiful blue eyes again. Is that how he got me to leave work? This time, his eyes weren’t enthralling, but full of fear. She couldn’t bear to see it. Ileta looked away again and bit her lip with her new fang. After a long moment of silence, she spoke, “I have to get the blood off me first...”
Aryen nodded. He could tell that she was fighting with something, probably the new urges that now settled within her. “Well, we will have to clean that off, lets see...” he said, looking around the room. His eyes fell upon a pitcher of water on the table across the room. “Hmm...that’ll do,” he said, standing from the bed. He walked over and took the pitcher, then returned to the bed, motioning for her to move over to the edge of the bed. “Come on, I cant clean the blood from your neck when you’re all the way over there, can I?” he asked her softly.
Clutching her sheet to her chest, Ileta moved toward him, then knelt on the bed beside him. She hung her head so as not to look at him. The new Ileta was growing stronger, pressuring her to accept him.
A soft sigh came from Aryen as he noticed her hanging her head. The least she could do was somewhat look at him, but it was her choice. Having her accept who she is now was going to be harder than he thought. He placed his hand in the water, scooping a little up, then brining his hand to her neck, he washed it over the wounds, the dried up blood flaking away slowly. His hand caressed her neck slowly, not only to cleanse, but as a way of being able to touch her and show her that he cared, but he had no idea if it mattered to her at all now.
The way he touched her as he washed her neck chipped away at Ileta’s barriers, allowing the new vampire version of herself to gain more control. She was beginning to feel loyalty to her sire welling up in her heart. She was beginning to understand that he must have gone through the same thing she was.
Ileta slipped off her bed and stood in front of him. She still didn’t raise her head, but she did rest it on his shoulder. She stood silent for a moment, until she found the courage to ask; “How did it happen for you?”
Aryen raised a brow at seeing her suddenly stand in front of him, then a small smile turned his lips as he felt her head rest upon his shoulder. It was a start at least. “Hmm, well, thats a long story to say the least, but put short and simple, my village was attacked by a horde of vampires. My family, along with my little sister, was killed. But...the leader of the horde chose to keep me to herself, and whilst in her bed I was changed, the same way you were,” he said softly, remembering the one who had created him, thoughts of her still etched into his memory.
It’s terrible. Far worse than me, Ileta thought guiltily. She took a step closer, pressing her body close against his. “Are you lonely now?” she asked. Is that why he did this?
Aryen looked down at her, feeling her press her body against his. “Lonely? I suppose you could call it that, I’ve been alone for ages,” he said lowly, his hand still caressing over the dried blood on her neck. It was nearly clean.
Ileta let go of her sheet and wrapped her arm around his waist instead. Lifting her head, she pressed her face against his neck. She could smell her blood under his skin. “Me too,” she whispered.
Aryen nodded. “I see, you as well. Well...” he said, pressing his hand against her cheek, he sighed softly at feeling her press her face against his neck. “You don’t have to be alone anymore,” he whispered softly to her.
Ileta looked up at him, now a little more understanding. It wasn’t entirely what he said that changed her, but her own internal conflict. New Ileta had nearly won. Stretching her neck upwards, she placed a soft kiss on her sire’s lips.
Aryen caught her gaze as she looked up at him, somewhat surprised that she would even look at him after how she felt before. He was even more surprised when he felt her lips press softly upon his, a smile coming upon him as he pressed his lips back, returning the soft kiss.
Ileta drew back and laid her head on his shoulder again. She breathed in his scent, which wasn’t much. He actually didn’t have a scent. She could smell her sweat, faint traces of perfume, her own blood, the blood of others, smoke from hearths, and a myriad of other smells, but there was nothing of him. However, the scent of the blood in his veins that was making her mouth water. She resisted the urge to bite into his neck. He needed that blood to survive, and she needed him to survive.
A soft smile was upon Aryen’s lips as he felt her lay her head on his shoulder again. He washed off every last trace of blood on her neck, and also reached back to getting the blood that was in her hair. He moved his hand back to rubbing her shoulders and back, along with her hair in the process.
Ileta nudged his neck with her nose, fighting the urge to bite him. However, she noticed then that he hand no scars on his neck. She had felt hers. With her free hand, she reached up to her neck and touched them. “Will these go away?” she asked.
His head slowly moved against hers in a nod, silken black hair sliding against her blonde hair. His wet hand moved off her back to scoop another handful of water that he poured into her hair to wash away the blood. Aryen replied, “Yes, after you feed, the blood will rejuvenate you, giving you the ability to regenerate.”
Ileta nodded and turned her face away from his neck. Soon enough, she told herself. She stood still and silent, allowing him to finish.
Aryen felt her nod, watching her as she turned her face away from his neck. He continued washing her hair until nearly every particle of blood was washed away, before brushing her hair down with his hand. “There, that should be about all of it,” he said softly.
Ileta pushed away from Aryen a little and glanced up at him. “I should get dressed,” she said softly and looked back down. She stepped away from him and suddenly her head was swimming. Ileta staggered, then caught herself on her bed. Her body was weak and needed blood soon.
She reached for her barmaid uniform, though found it torn. She recalled how Aryen ripped it off her. That outfit was out the question.
* * *
Meanwhile, downstairs, Dutia and Darin had arrived at Ileta’s apartment building.
“This is the one, I’m pretty sure,” Dutia said. They had checked a couple other similar buildings only to quickly realize it was the wrong place.
“I hope so,” Darin grumbled impatiently.
“Come on,” Dutia urged and pulled him into the building. The barmaid led the way upstairs, then looked down the hall. “It looks familiar...”
* * *
Aryen watched her as she stepped away from him, seeing her staggering on her way to get her clothes. “Would you need any help?” he asked, even though he knew she should get used to it on her own. It appeared that she was accepting what she was now, and now he just needed to teach her the primary thing a vampire should know.
Ileta reached out for him and took his hand. “Yeah, just a little,” she replied. Suddenly, her head jerked up as she heard voices on the other side of her door. It sounded like Dutia...
Someone knocked on her door. “Ileta? Are you there?” Dutia called from the other side.
Ileta stared at the door. “Hide in the closet...” she whispered to Aryen. Blood, there was blood all over her bed. Ileta snatched up her torn clothes and shoved them under her blanket, then threw the blanket over her bloody pillow.
“Just a minute!” she called to Dutia. Time for breakfast, her mind murmured.
Aryen nodded, moving swiftly to the closet and closing the doors behind him. He left a small crack open so he could see outside and watch Ileta in case the people who had shown up showed any form of hostility towards her.
Ileta went to her dresser and grabbed the first shift she could find. She pulled on the short white slip, fluffed her hair a bit, then went to the door. As she grabbed the knob, another wave of weakness washed over her.
Bracing herself against the wall, she opened her door and saw Dutia waiting for her. “Hi,” she greeted the other barmaid breathlessly and with a weak smile.
Darin appeared off the side, pushing off the wall. He looked down at her spitefully, while Dutia seemed quite surprised to see her dressed in so little.
“Daim wants you to know that your pay will be docked for tonight,” Dutia said haughtily.
“Yeah...alright,” Ileta replied. She couldn’t even fake caring.
Before she could try and coerce them to come in, Dutia cut in. “So, does he pay well?” she nearly spat at Ileta.
She had to get them in there. Could she use Darin? “He...he left. Said I wasn’t what he was looking for,” Ileta lied, looking down at the floor dejectedly.
Darin gave a ‘hmph’. Dutia glared though. “Why are you so breathless? Are you drunk?” the barmaid interrogated, her hands on her hips.
“Umm...a little. So, Darin, am I so easy to replace?” she asked the mercenary with a smirk. “You ditched me. What, you want some of this?”
Ileta looked up to meet his eyes. “Sure...I’m all ready with no one to keep me company.”
“Hey!” Dutia shouted.
“You can stay, Dutia... I don’t mind. I’m sure Darin won’t either,” she said coyly.
“Are you offering what I think you’re offering?” Darin asked, his interest suddenly piqued.
Ileta almost bit her lip to be sultry, but she had to keep from showing her fangs. She just raised her eyebrow and smirked. “You bet I am.”
“Sounds good to me,” Darin grinned, the wounds to his pride forgotten with the offer of a threesome.
“I... Oh my...” Dutia gasped shyly.
“C’mon, it’ll be fun, I promise,” Darin goaded her, then gave Dutia a little push.
Ileta stepped back from the door and let Dutia and Darin enter.
Aryen watched every movement and every word that Ileta had spoken to the new acquaintances that had joined the scenario. Very good. This will be your first... he whispered to her mind, a smirk playing upon his lips as he watched the two enter. “Ahh lust...one of the simplest ways to get your meals, very good,” he whispered from within the closet, watching the scenario play out.
As Dutia and Darin entered her apartment, Ileta shut the door behind her, leaning on it for support as she regained her bearings. She heard Aryen’s voice in her mind and glanced towards the closet briefly. Was it really him, or was her weakness deluding her? Darin began to strip off his leather vest, eager to get started, while Dutia stood in the middle of the room, nervously fidgeting with her uniform.
Once Ileta’s dizziness passed, she began to walk towards Dutia, moving seductively. The rail-thin barmaid’s eyes darted from Ileta to Darin. “I don’t...I don’t think I can do this,” Dutia said, then started forward towards the door. Ileta wasn’t going to let her walk away. “You can have—”
Ileta struck out, snatching Dutia’s wrists and pushing the woman onto her bed. She pinned Dutia down with considerable strength.
“What...what are you doing?” Dutia struggled, but Ileta was far too strong.
“C’mon Dutia, just go with it,” Darin insisted.
“I promise you won’t be disappointed...” Ileta whispered, leaning in to kiss the other woman’s neck. The scent of her fresh blood pumping beneath her skin overpowered any complaints that the old, human, Ileta still had. She wanted so badly just to sink her fangs into Dutia’s throat, but she had to put Darin at ease.
Aryen watched on through the crack in the closet door. Indeed Ileta was coming along nicely, already understanding many ways to seduce the victim before moving in for the bite. “Excellent,” he whispered, his voice echoing in her mind, watching as she made her movements on Dutia. “That’s right, put the victim at ease before making your move, so he doesn’t have time to react before your onto him,” he whispered softly.
Ileta continued kissing Dutia, fighting the urge to bite her. Darin stared in awe for a moment, then began to strip out of his shirt. He joined them on the bed and got behind Ileta, which was perfect, as Dutia was now blocked from his view by Ileta’s body.
Aryen, help me, she thought, projecting it towards Aryen in the hopes that he would hear it as she had heard his.
With that silent plea, Ileta gave into her he bestial urges. She opened her mouth wide, then clamped her jaws shut on Dutia’s throat. Her fangs sank into the barmaid’s carotid artery, while her bottom jaw, purely due to her eagerness, crushed Dutia’s windpipe, making it impossible for her to breath or cry out.
Dutia struggled, but with Ileta pinning her, she could do little. She gasped for breath like a fish out of water. In desperation, she began thrashing her body as much as she was allowed. Her legs kicked, and ended up kicking Darin squarely in the groin. The mercenary toppled off the bed, holding himself.
“SHIT!” he cursed, rolling on the ground. “What the the hell was that for?” he ordered from Dutia. Then he noticed she was still fighting, but not crying out. “Dutia?” Darin pushed himself back to his feet, forcing himself to ignore the pain.
Ileta sucked at the wound torn into Dutia’s neck, so focused on feeding that she barely noticed what happened to Darin. The blood flowed heavily from Dutia’s throat, helped by her violent thrashing.
Aryen watched the interesting scenario play out its roles. Ileta skillfully took her prey, allowing lust to take the setting to distract the two from her true intentions. He looked up suddenly as he felt her words hit his mind. Looking back out, he watched she took what she was desiring from her prey. The man fell off the bed and was soon to getting back up, but now he could see what was happening, and if he were to get things right, he would take offensive against Ileta, which wouldn’t be tolerated.
Aryen swiftly dashed out the closet, towards Darin and grasped him by his throat, dragging him along until he reached the wall, which he slammed Darin against with brute strength. Holding him up off the ground, his grip firm around the man’s throat.
Darin was shocked by Aryen’s sudden presence, and at being pinned against the wall with a hand around his throat before he knew what happened. The mercenary kicked and writhed in the vampire’s grasp. He could barely breath, but that was better than Dutia.
Ileta’s fervent feeding had crushed Dutia’s windpipe. Life was quickly fading from the petite barmaid. Her former co-worker was eagerly drinking the blood pumping from her torn throat, though the supply was getting low. Dutia barely moved now. Her eyes rolled back in her head and blood trickled from her nose and mouth.
A fierce smirk could be seen on Aryen’s lips as he held Darin off of his feet against the wall. “Don’t worry, your time will come soon,” he said in a deep, dark tone as he looked away, looking over at Ileta, watching her as she feasted upon the barmaid. “How is it for your first meal?” he asked her.
Ileta barely heard Aryen, she was feeding so eagerly. However, Dutia’s small body was nearly drained and Ileta’s bloodlust was sated. She began to relax, feeling invigorated and almost euphoric. Her body was entirely refreshed.
Finally, after Dutia had no more blood to give, and it was obvious the barmaid was dead, Ileta drew back. Her fierce bite had strained her jaw, but after a stretch and audible pop, the hurt tendons healed. Ileta sat up on Dutia’s hips and licked her lips. Recalling that Aryen said the scars on her neck would heal, Ileta reached back and felt over her neck. The scars from his bite were gone, as if it never happened.
The new vampiress turned her attention to Darin, who was pinned against the wall by Aryen, and she grinned. She could go for more. “Mmm... We can’t have him knowing about us, can we?” she asked Aryen with a grin. It was clear, the old Ileta was dead.
Aryen smirked, his eyes still gazing upon Ileta, quite impressed with how quickly she was accepting her new life. “That is true, we can’t have anyone knowing about us. So what shall we do? Do you wish to drink from him? Or shall I?” he asked looking to Darin, then to Ileta, licking his lips as he looked at her.
Ileta slipped off the bed and gracefully strode toward Darin and Aryen, a definite change from her weakened staggering earlier. She felt so good, so powerful.
“Put him down for me,” Ileta said and wiped her arm across her lips, brushing away Dutia’s blood.
Aryen nodded, his grip loosened a bit to let Darin back down to his feet. Although his hand was released from Darin’s throat, to make sure he made no attempt to flee he grabbed his arm, twisting it around to his back. Not like it would’ve mattered, if he had tried to run Aryen could’ve caught him without a second thought. “As you wish. I am interested in seeing how you will handle this. Your first kill was good, just a little sloppy,” he said, giving her a wink while that dark smirk laid across his lips.
Ileta nodded to Aryen, acknowledging his guidance. Her attention turned to Darin and her bloodstained lips quirked up in a smirk. The mercenary was pale and terrified, but trapped and unarmed. All his weapons were back at the inn.
“Ileta...please...I won’t tell anyone, let me go,” he pleaded. However, it wasn’t about silencing him, it was about her feeding on him.
Ileta pressed against Darin and put her finger to his lips. “Quiet,” she ordered. Leaning in, she breathed in his scent, she could almost smell the fear on him. She licked his neck, over the pulsing artery, toying with him. “I think we should share,” she said to Aryen, her lips hovering over Darin’s jugular. With that, Ileta sank her fangs into Darin’s throat and tore open his throat. The mercenary began to struggle, disregarding his arm for the sake of his life, but Aryen had control of that.
Aryen smirked at Ileta’s commands to the mortal before them both, and a soft chuckle could be heard from him. “Sounds good to me, let us share him...” he said after she had already sank her fangs into Darin’s throat. He leaned over Darin’s shoulder, giving Ileta one more look at how she fed, and how much she obviously enjoyed it before opening his mouth and sinking his fangs into the other side of Darin’s throat.
Ileta and Aryen fed on Darin until the mercenary had no more blood to give. Ileta finished and let go of his body, stepping back from her second kill and wiping her mouth on her arm. As Darin’s lifeless body collapsed on the floor, Ileta stepped over it and pushed herself into Aryen’s arms. “Mmm...I have never felt so powerful in my life. Perhaps this is a gift,” she said, then licked a trickle off blood off his chin.
Aryen smirked as he saw Darin’s body slump to the ground, his hunger sated. He felt Ileta push herself into him, and he wrapped an arm around to pull her close. “Now you realize your power will grow the more you feed, this is indeed a gift,” he said, a smile playing on his lips as she licked the trickle of blood off his chin.
Ileta rested her head on Aryen’s shoulder and lightly traced her finger over his necklace. “So, what is my next lesson?” she asked.
Aryen smiled as he raised his hand up, caressing her head softly as she leaned against him, his fingers combing gently through her hair. “First, we should leave here soon,” he said softly, running his fingers down her neck.
“I should pack some clothes,” Ileta replied, then pushed away from Aryen. “I’m going to go get ready,” she said, then carefully stepped over Darin’s body to get to her wardrobe.
The new vampiress cleaned herself up, then found a few choice pieces of clothing. She felt dark now, so she picked out the darkest things she had and shoved what she could into a small knapsack. She dressed again, and found the perfect dress in her closet. It was burgundy velvet, knee length, and low cut across her chest. As with many of her finest clothes, it was a gift from a “customer”. She paired the dress with a pair of black leather gloves, knee high black high-heeled boots, and a lovely black velvet and satin cloak that had been given to her by a rich merchant in winter. He paid her to pretend to be his wife at the funeral of a rival merchant. So many memories of another life in that closet.
Once Ileta was ready, she presented herself to Aryen. “So, what do you think?”
Aryen had his hand under his chin, watching her as she went to go gather her clothes for their trip. “Hmm...dark...the color of blood...very well cut. Dark gloves and high-heeled boots along with a lovely cloak. Very good, and useful, in my opinion, fits your new self perfectly,” he said approvingly, giving her a wink.
Ileta grinned, revealing her new fangs. “Well, let’s go then,” she said. Swinging her knapsack over her shoulder, she turned toward the door. She paused though, turning to look over her apartment at all the things she was leaving behind. She seemed to ignore the two bodies. Ileta gave a heavy sigh, then turned back around. “Let’s go...” she repeated, then slipped out the door. At this hour, there was no one to see them leave in her hall.
