"This is DJ D, the voice of the Underground. If you can hear this broadcast then we're looking for you. With the rat in the swamp, our tomcat has been sniffing around the big dog even more. But does the dog know that he is just a substitute for a green eyed swamp rat?
One month! One month since Angelo practically dumped me on my aunt's doorstep and one month since I'd heard from him.
When he brought me here the night after he dropped the bomb that I was to become Angelique's student, he left with a promise that if I summoned him, he'd come get me for the night. Yeah, for the night, that was the deal Angelo made with Ardoin; if I called for him, I could be with Angelo but would have to returned to my aunt the next night.
Only I'd been summoning him every night and he had yet to answer.
The moment Angelo made his exit, the bitch laughed and told me that "the Greek slut" had forgotten all about me and not to waste my time contacting him. I was beginning to wonder if she was right. Angelo couldn't deal with loving me so he got rid of me as soon as he could. Then he vanished for good.
Well if that's how he wanted it, fuck him twice, I didn't need him. Especially since the first thing Angelique had done was demand I "unlearn" everything he taught me.
Including speaking without taking a breath first. Nightspeech was verboten. So was speaking in English when she and I were alone. Took several psychic slaps to convince me to forget I ever knew any other language but Cajun French.
Wish I could say that it took more mental beatings for her to get me into bed but no such luck. No, all it took was my blood calling to hers, her seducing me and voila, my body instantly forgot that I wasn't into girls and fucking a pussy was just as good as fucking an ass.
And if that wasn't enough, we shared blood, over and over until just her presence made me hard as a rock. She made damned sure I was bound to her by the first night and there was nothing I could do about it.
I did learn some nifty things though. Like the fact that I had the power all along. I could do magic all along. Not just the childish psionics of telekinesis that I never outgrew. Not just the elemental fire magic that I could never control. But real magic. Only the reason I could never cast any of the spells I learned was not that I did them wrong. It was because I didn't have the energy to do it. Apparently being Sangsue fucked my body up when it came to that.
Usually magic is taking your will to manipulate energy to do what you want. But that will takes energy. No energy, no power. Witches are born with the power inside them.
I have only so much power inside me. Only so much energy. The only way to replenish that energy is nourishment. Feeding. The reason why instinct didn't drive me to kill in Venefica Inworld was that the blood wasn't human.
In other words, if I juice up, I can work magic. No killing, no energy. No energy, no magic.
But my aunt was what Angelo sneeringly called a "grass eater." Someone who sustained themselves on animal blood. She even used it when making the Rotgut she forced me to drink every night and animal blood tasted like shit.
Wrong. Even though she drummed into me nightly how evil the kill was, apparently she had no problem using juicers as sources for that energy. Guess that as long as juicers did the killing, she was just fine with stealing what they took.
Only it wasn't as messy as actually draining the blood from their bodies. She just created a blood bond with a juicer, then psychically stripped him of every shred of life energy they had.
That was why Ardoin made damned sure he had every single one of his brood blood bound to him. So he could strip life energy from them instead of having to feed for himself. That was why all Broodmasters created broods and every Broodmaster could do it.
I learned that not all Sangsue could be Broodmasters, even though, of course, any juicer could create offspring. Only my family.
Ardoin's brood was big enough that by taking from everyone, it was barely felt. And by creating even more juicers for Ardoin to bind to him, the energy taken from each juicer was even less.
But just as easily, if he wanted to, he could just drain one juicer to an undead husk. I knew because that was what Angelique had me do over and over when she taught me magic.
She'd go to the Nocturne, entice a juicer to hook up with me at her place. Most juicers didn't even know who she was, they only saw her beauty and her power to Persuade was so strong, she could make them do whatever she wanted them to do. Then once they were at Angelique's house, I'd seduce them, bind them to me, then take what I needed to work whatever magic my aunt had taught me that night.
Binding them was sooo easy. Just sharing blood over and over with a fuck to seal the bond and voila, instant bond. It wasn't the same as a simple blood bond between juicers to amplify the pleasure of a shared kill that would wear off by the end of the night. It was sharing blood over and over and over before cementing the bond with sex; the same as a Sire would. So basically, I was Siring these juicers by proxy, then using that bond as a connection to strip them. Just like Ardoin did.
It didn't take long for me to figure out that the juicers Angelique chose were all Angelo's bastards. Kinda made those kills extra satisfying.
Consuming all that power was like being shot with a zillion jolts of electricity. Each time made my body shudder in orgiastic ecstasy and the more juiced up they were, the richer the life energy.
To say it got me high was a fucking understatement.
With that power, I could weave the spells I learned from Angelique. Small spells since I was a beginner. And because the fires were easier to put out. Fire was my elemental power but I never learned how to control it.
Nice little side effect. Auntie practically killed me the first time her curtains went up in flames. Apparently the fires were caused by an energy backlash that I couldn't control yet. It was a good thing that Angelique's elemental power was Water or I'd have burned the whole house down.
Setting fires was easy. Lighting a candle or even a cigarette took so much concentration that it gave me massive migraines the first week. By the end of the second week I was able to keep a cigarette lit without my clothing bursting into flames.
Trust me, it's harder than it sounds. I had to focus all the heat onto the cigarette and hold it there by using my will to stop it from spreading.
Candles were harder because not only did I have to stop the heat from spreading, I also had to keep the candleflame under control. After a month I could weave a charmed circle of protection around myself but I still couldn't light a candle without burning my shirt.
Angelique didn't care. As long as I didn't damage anything of hers, I could set all my clothes ablaze. Besides, as I found out when I failed my last test on Venefica Inworld, elemental fires couldn't burn my body, just everything on it.
Nightchildren didn't burn either. However, Stalkers self-combusted just fine.
Angelique was also more than happy for me to almost run out of clothes. Made it easier for her to get me into bed and also made it impossible to leave her house. But after a month of seeing nothing but her and which ever of Angelo's leftovers she could lure here, I was getting super antsy. I had to get out of there, even if it was only for a little bit, to keep whatever what was left of my sanity. I also had to buy new clothes.
And because I missed the kill. Really. The psychic feeding and the Rotgut were okay and all but I really missed the up close and personalness of actually holding the warm body in my hands, biting into their salty flesh and having my mouth filled with their sweet and spicy hot blood that melted the ice in my veins. But I'd be lying if I didn't admit that I missed the Game just as much, if not more.
But when I got dressed to go, Angelique's eyes narrowed. "Where are you going?"
"'Out,'" she mimicked. "And where exactly is 'out?'"
Something about my aunt made me turn into a little kid whenever she spoke to me. Or should I say, at me. "Just, out."
"You're not going to find him are you?" Angelique accused, dripping with contempt. "I told you, he forgot about you the moment he left you here."
I didn't want to admit she was right so I clung to one fact she was leaving out. "Ardoin made him leave me here."
She laughed. "Since when can anyone make that devil child to anything if he doesn't want to do it in the first place?"
Fuck, fuck, fuck. "Ardoin can," I said weakly but again, she was right. Angelo would have defied him and taken the beating if he really cared about me.
Angelique patted my shoulder. "You're better off without him dragging you down to the gutter along with him."
I glowered at her, wanting her to stop being so condescending, knowing she didn't care about me any more than Angelo did, I was just a trophy, an instrument to give a giant "fuck you" to the person she hated the most. She didn't have to try so fucking hard.
I already hated his guts.
"I'm just getting some clothes," I mumbled, loathing how pathetic I sounded, how pathetic I'd become. How pussy-whipped she'd made me in just a month.
She smirked maliciously. "With what money?"
Shit. "Don't worry about it," I dismissed. I'd just do what I used to do when I had no money.
I'd just steal.
"I wouldn't want to tell my brother that you were breaking the agreement," she chided, "and going to someone you have no business going to."
Sure she wouldn't. But she was pissing me off and that overrode whatever fear I had of her. "You're telling me I'm a prisoner here?" I asked innocently.
She blinked, instantly squelching the attitude and going right into almost solicitousness. "Of course not.”
"Then it won't be a problem, will it?"
I had her and she knew it. But of course she had to get in one more dig. "Don't even think of going anywhere near my brother's Hellhouse. Or should I say," her eyes, same clear green as mine, glittered, "your uncle's."
Not like I planned on it but that wasn't the fucking point. "As far as I know, that isn't part of the agreement." I said calmly. "If I'm not your captive then where I go isn't your concern, Angelique."
The slap upside my head was so hard, my ears rang. And that was only physically. "I see that removing you from that animal will not be enough!" she hissed. "You're already under his influence!"
Fuck that! "I'm under no one's influence."
"You're not yourself." She shook her head and gave me a sympathetic look I wanted to rip off her smug little face. "You think that if you imitate him, you'll get him back but it won't."
But I wasn't imitating Angelo. If I had been, I'd be pushing her buttons, slashing her emotionally or even just snarling a bitchy retort.
I wasn't doing that. Instead of his heat, I was cold. Ice cold. As much as I felt like hurting her, I wanted to shut her up even more. Smack her down before the words had the chance to leave her lips.
"It's not Weasel," I realized, my lips curling into a feral smile. "It's Jacques. But that is still me, is it not?"
Angelique stared at me, her eyes widening as if she was seeing me for the first time. "That look," she whispered.
"What about it?" I asked softly, my words flaring menace.
"I took you in, taught you, trained you, bedded you and yet, you're just like him," she murmured.
Black Widower©Janette, 1997 -
Black Widower©Janette, 1997 - 2007
Last Updated 07/08/07
Page Last Updated 07/08/07