Part Two: Aema Kai Thanatos
Aema Kai Thanatos
"Blood and Death"
Click, click, click.
The sound of heels walking on the pier. It was about time. Angelo had waited most of the night but it was deserted until now. It was a cool night, perhaps too cool for anyone to troll around the docks for sex.
Now it was around midnight and Angelo was about to resign himself to a night of starvation. Then, he saw her.
His first thought was that the petite blonde girl was not from around here. There was no way in hell that any Greek father would let his precious little daughter out on the street dressed like that. Not unless he was whoring her out.
She couldn't have been more than thirteen or so, and one quick glance at her chest told Angelo that she'd just begun puberty. Her halter top revealed the budding of breasts, and Angelo liked the short black miniskirt and fishnet stockings. He wondered how she could walk in those stiletto heels.
As she got closer, he could see the remnants of innocence. Unlike most girls who walked thestreets, this girl didn't paint up her face. The only color on her face was her cherry red lips, which contrasted with her pale cheeks.
Angelo found himself wondering what it would be like to fuck her, and quickly shook the thought out of his head. This babe in the woods wasn't a hardened kiddie whore like those he saw in Tampa. She must have gotten lost somehow and was selling the only asset she believed she had. Even though he was intensely attracted to her, and his cock was beginning to take notice, he wasn't gonnado anything about it. Not yet, anyway.
Instead, he told her in English, "This isn't the place for a pretty little thing like you. Go back home to your mama and papa."
She smiled. "I can take care of myself."
Angelo liked her accent, a sort of lilting French accent. No, she definitely didn't belong here. "What are you doing here, anyway? It's not safe."
"And it's safe for you?" she retorted. "I couldn't go back to my mama or papa, even if I wanted to. Mama's dead, and papa's in prison."
She had an odd way of speaking, with all the emphasis on the second syllable of her words.
Angelo shook his head. "It's a shame about your parents."
She shrugged. "I barely remember them."
Angelo didn't remember his mother either. When he was little, he used to wonder whether his father would have liked him more if his mother hadn't died giving birth to him.
Now it was too late. It didn't matter anymore.
Angelo reached into his jeans pocket and handed the girl a twenty.
She stared at it as if it was a cockroach. "What is this for?"
"You don't want to mess with the sailors and fishermen who would take what you're offering. They won't be gentle."
"And you want your turn." She pushed his hand away. "Keep your money. At least I know where they stand."
Annoyed by the way she distorted his intentions, Angelo shoved the money back in his pocket. He'd thought she was different. Softer. But she was just as cold-hearted as any other bitch. "Don't flatter yourself," he sneered." You thought I was paying you for sex? Please, I'll bet you're not even any good."
To his surprise, she began to tremble, her lip quivering and those dark chocolate eyes brimming with tears. "I'm sorry," she whispered. "You were only being decent and now I have no one." She hugged herself, as if she'd fall apart if she let go.
Despite his irritation, Angelo felt sorry for her. Who knew what she'd gone through before tonight? And she was still just a baby. Knowing she'd probably take it wrong, but not caring, he held her. "It's okay," he soothed. "I'm here if you need me. You're not alone."
Perhaps it was a trick of the moonlight but her eyes seemed to take on a reddish glow. It only lasted a moment before fading. "All right, then. Do whatever you want."
The monotone of her words gave Angelo an uneasy feeling, immediately triggering images of when his uncle first began pawing at him...
Don't tell anyone, Angelo. It will be our little secret....
Angelo's father had asked Stavros to look after his youngest boy, while he took care of things. Angelo's older siblings were either working or out with their friends, so they couldn't watch him this time. Out of the goodness of his heart, Angelo's uncle not only agreed to watch Angelo, he offered to let his nephew stay overnight, to make things easier for Costas.
Even though he was only seven, Angelo already knew his father liked the ladies. And his liquor. The things his father had to "take care of" probably included a stop at the local taverna.
There was no wife, only Stavros and his son Dimitri. Costas' brother-in-law's wife died giving birth to the boy, so Stavros adopted him as a favor. Dimitriwas almost ten, too old to bother with a baby like Angelo.
So Dimitri ignored Angelo, as he always did, and Angelo sat in front of the boob tube, watching some boring movie, while Uncle Stavros drank like a fish and smoked cigarettes.
He must have fallen asleep because he was startled awake by the light pressure of his uncle's hand on his knee. So light, that he almost wasn't aware that the hand was moving up his leg slowly, then making its way between his legs....
Angelo wasn't sure why his uncle was doing this. His uncle's kneading fingers felt nice, sort of soothing, but it was something he sometimes did to himself. He was surprised he hadn't gone blind by now. His older sister had caught him once and said it was filthy to touch himself there. But Angelo liked to touch himself there. He just wasn't sure he liked his uncle doing it.
And now Uncle Stavros was easing his hand through the leg of Angelo's shorts, his fingers snaking underneath Angelo's underwear. The rubbing was beginning to make him sleepy again.
He yawned. "Uncle, I wanna go to sleep now."
His uncle was slightly unsteady on his feet as he walked Angelo to the guest room. Angelo hoped Uncle Stavros didn't fall on him before they got there.
As usual his father didn't think of things like packing a bag, so Angelo had nothing to wear to bed, unless he wanted to sleep in his clothes.
Luckily, his uncle had laid out a pair of pajamas that used to belong to Dimitri.
Even then he was aware that Uncle Stavroswas staring at him as he undressed and got into the pajamas that were swimming on him. At the time though, he thought his uncle just disapproved of his scrawny body.
Uncle Stavros chuckled. "It seems that my son was bigger than you at your age. You might as well just take them off."
Well it was hot in theroom, there was no fan in here like there was in the living room. So Angelo took off the pajamas, and wondered when his uncle was going to leave.
He didn't. Instead, the bed creaked as Uncle Stavros sat down next to him. Angelo tried not to wrinkle up his nose. His uncle smelled yucky. Like old cigarettes and booze. But he'd been brought up to be polite to his elders so he tried not to breathe through his nose.
"You're turning out to be very pretty, Angelo," Uncle Stavros crooned as he stroked Angelo's cheek with his nicotine-stained fingers.
Pretty? Girls were pretty. Angelo didn't like that. "I'm a boy," he announced.
His uncle laughed. "Of course you are. And that's why I like you."
That confused Angelo, but it was nice to hear that someone liked him. No one else seemed to.
Then Uncle Stavros unbuttoned his own pants and pulled out a more grown up version of what Angelo had. "See what you'll look like when you become a man?"
Angelo gaped at the huge object that his uncle was now dangling in front of him. It was beautiful. Angelo couldn't wait until his was that big.
His uncle grasped Angelo's tiny hand and placed it upon the purplish mass. "Do you feel how hard it is, nephew?"
Angelo nodded solemnly. It was hard like wood. Unlike his soft, wiggly little thing.
"I'm going to show you how to make it become soft again."And with that, Uncle Stavros bent his head and took Angelo into his mouth.
At first it felt kind of weird. Uncle Stavros'stongue was wet, a little slobbery, like some dog was licking him down there.Then it started to feel nice. Angelo had learned from experience that it felt good to let the warm water from the bathtub faucet run over him, it made his body tingle.
Angelo's uncle was beginning to make his body tingle.
Then, all too soon, Uncle Stavros lifted his head and Angelo plopped out of his mouth. He must have seen the disappointment in Angelo's dark eyes, because he chuckled. "You're too young to really appreciate it, but when you're a little older, I'll do it again."
Angelo pouted, chewing his bottom lip. He was too young for all the good stuff , and this was just another thing he'd have to wait for until he grew up. "Promise?"
Uncle Stavros smiled. "Of course."
It would be the only promise Stavros ever kept.
Uncle Stavros pressed himself against Angelo's lips. "Now, it's your turn."
Angelo shook his head. How was he gonnafit that humongous thing in his little mouth? "I can't."
His uncle's face darkened. "I thought you were a good boy, Angelo. I guess you're not."
Terror burnedlike acid in the pit of his stomach. Good boys did what they were told. Nobody loved bad boys.
Angelo wanted and needed to be loved.
He ran his tongue over dry lips, moistening them to make it easier. "I am a good boy," he declared before putting his mouth over his uncle.
It was like a gigantic thumb, but without fingernails. Angelo wasn't sure he liked the taste. A mixture of salt, sweat, and piss. He wondered if he tasted that way.
Well, if Uncle Stavros could do it, so could he. Angelo began to suckle, just like his uncle had.
"Gods, Angelo," Uncle Stavros moaned, "That feels so good." He pushed more of himself into Angelo's mouth. "You're a very good boy."
Angelo would have smiled if his mouth wasn't full. He'd show his uncle how good he was.
He sucked harder, tracing his tongue around the head at the top. Angelo was surprised how easy it was, how natural it felt.
Uncle Stavros began to breathe real heavy, his face turning bright red. "O mi yenito," he cried out, as if he was in deep pain.
Suddenly his uncle wriggled like a fish, and a moment later, something salty and thick flooded Angelo's mouth. It was coming too fast! He wanted to gag, but his gut told him that he had to swallow it all or Uncle Stavros would be disappointed in him.
Besides, he knew what was going on, even if his seven year old brain didn't have the words for it. He'd seen his brothers and their friends stroke themselves as fast as they could to see who would shoot off that thick, whitish cream the quickest. In fact, that was why Angelo had started to touch himself in the first place.
But unlike his brothers, their friends, and his uncle, Angelo couldn't make anything come out of there but pee.
Afterwards, his uncle pulled himself out of Angelo's mouth. "Such a good boy," he panted as he mussed Angelo's curls affectionately.
Starving for praise and the primal need to be touched, Angelo stretched out on the bed and eagerly accepted his uncle's caresses.
"Don't tell anyone, Angelo," Uncle Stavros whispered as he tucked him in. "It will be our little secret."
Angelo was devastated. He'd finally found something he was good at and he couldn't tell anybody? "Why?"
His uncle shook his head. "People wouldn't understand. Your father might stop you from visiting me," he added somberly.
That was the last thing Angelo wanted. "I won't tell anyone," he decided.
After that he "visited" Uncle Stavros quite often. Sometimes several times a week. He liked it at first, but then it became the only thing his uncle wanted to do. He'd make up something about playing a card game with Angelo, then they'd go into the guest room and his uncle would spring on him.
At the time, he'd felt like it was his obligation to cooperate, or he'd end up all by himself. When Dimitristarted with him, four years later, the only difference was that he liked it.
He was sure this girl felt the same way and he should pull away from her.
But he couldn't. She pressed against Angelo, which only increased the physical attraction and made his cock so hard it ached. And whenshe kissed him, all thoughts of gallantry flew out of his head.
Angelo knew better. He knew she was just giving him what she thought she had to. But his hands slid to her breasts anyway. He kept telling himself that they were giving each other comfort, but he knew he was lying to himself.
However, it didn't matter to his body. Neither did the fact that he felt nothing from her. No sexual energy, not even a trace. Angelo was just so overcome with lust, that he didn't care about anything else but getting off. He kissed her hard, humping her frenetically through her skirt.
Her lips trailed to his jaw, then down to his neck where she was doing this incredible thing with her tongue. Shit, this girl was no novice, she knew exactly what she was doing. Her touch lit a fire that spread to his groin. Hell, he was gonnacome before he had the chance to fuck her...
Then he felt a sting, then her mouth sucking and he plunged into black oblivion, collapsing in her arms.
* * * * * * *
The next night, Angelo woke up and found himself stuffed in a garbage can, apparently left for dead. He had no idea how he ended up there. It was as if someone had taken a knife and cut a huge hole out of his memory. The last thing Angelo could remember was the pretty little sexpot. The tantalizing image flickered in and out of his brain, and when he did try to push his memory past that point, he slammed into a brick wall.
Angelo did know he felt real sick. His head weighed a zillion pounds and he was as weak as a baby. That could only mean one thing. He didn't jump anyone last night.
He'd already tried several times to brush against someone, then astrally jump them, but with no luck. There would have to be sexual contact tonight, but how the hell was he gonna seduce anyone? He was filthy and he stank of garbage, and even if some desperate fucker wanted a blow job, Angelo had just enough power to jump them. Nothing else. Instead of the high octane he could usually induce, he'd be lucky if he could get low grade.
What the fuck happened last night?
If he didn't know better, Angelo could have sworn that he'd been drained of all his energy. He could barely walk let alone make it to the docks.
Fuck it, he was tired. Angelo slumped to the ground. He was ravenous but too exhausted to care. All he wanted to do was sleep. He shut his eyes and curled up as comfortably as he could. Angelo probably wouldn't wake up but he supposed there was some justice in that.
Just as slumber was about to overtake him, he heard a voice on the edge of his consciousness.
Even in this run-down state, Angelo's senses were quite acute. In fact, he was hyperaware, and he couldn't sense a soul within at least a quarter of a mile. He had to be hearing things.
Angelo felt a foot nudge him gently and his lips curled into an evil smile. Either he was dreaming or he'd just been handed an opportunity. He opened his eyes.
If it was a dream, he liked what he was dreaming about. A young man with wavy black hair, eyes that were grey and clear, almost crystalline, and a nice, sensual mouth.
He flashed Angelo a crooked grin. "You wan' some help?" He held out his hand and Angelo grabbed it, letting the stranger pull him to his feet. The guy couldn't have been more than twenty or so and his words were a lazy, Southern drawl. "What de hell happen' to you, cher?"
Angelo thought for a moment, trying to come up with a believable story. "Ran away and got beaten up," he finally said. He sure felt like he got beaten up.
Grey eyes appraised Angelo. "Even underneath all that grime, I can see your beauty," he whispered, stroking Angelo's cheek.
Tendrils of his new friend's lust tickled Angelo, teasing him. Torturing him because it was there, waiting for him. So potent and he couldn't even get to it. And it would be easy,Angelo wouldn't have to do a thing but go down on him, then take it.
But not here. Angelo may have picked up his "dates" on the docks but the sex was always somewhere else. A car.A motel room. Even under the pier. Angelo didn't give a fuck where, as long as it was private.
This street wasn't. And Angelo was not into audiences.
His knees suddenly buckled, the sky was spinning...oh shit, he was gonnafall again.
Angelo was caught before he hit the ground. "Dieu! When's the last time you had a decent meal?"
"The day before last." True enough.
"Well, that's the first thing we gonna do,oui? Get you cleaned up, thenget you some dinner."
Angelo smiled weakly. "I don't have any money." No, that disappeared along with his memory. "However will I pay you?" he asked coyly.
Mr. Charming laughed. "I'm sure you'll think of something, bon aimé. I'm staying at a motel within walking distance of here. Why don't you come with me and we can worry about payment later."
Within walking distance? The only motel he could think of was The Poseidon, and "motel" was a nice way of putting it. Angelo's opinion of him had just slipped several notches. He only hoped he had enough strength to get there without falling again.
He didn't. He ended up riding on the young man's shoulders, til they got there.
Oh yeah, it was The Poseidon. Tacky beyond belief. Thick puke green curtains with yellow daisies, matching green carpet and bedspread. Most rooms rented by the hour, but this room had to be more family oriented because there were two beds, and no mirrors on the ceilings. And behind the door, Angelo could see women's clothing hanging in the closet. Either this guy was a transvestite, or he had a woman. If it was the latter, Angelo wouldn't have much time.
His date had other ideas. "Shower's that way, cher." He cocked his head to the right.
Angelo was not dissuaded. "You takingit with me?"
He laughed. "I think you're old enough to take one by yourself."
Angelo bit back the "fuck you," that had already formed on his lips. Then he made his way towards the bathroom and fought the urge to slam the door once he got there.
He stripped and kicked his stinking clothing to the back of the bathroom. There was no tub, just a stall, and there was mold all over the tiles. But at least he'd be cleaner than he was now.
As the water cascaded down his body, Angelo felt a slight pressure in his head. As if someone were brushing against his mind.
Or was in it.
Angelo pushed aside the thought and soaped himself up, scrubbing the filth from his skin.
- Ignore me, will you, boy? -
It was his voice but in Angelo's mind. How could that be? It was impossible.
Angelo thought long and hard for a moment. Whenever he astrally jumped someone and entered their dreams, he was in their minds. If he could do it, so could someone else, only instead of his body, the jerk hadjumped his mind.
- Get out of my head, - he warned.
- If you insist. - Angelo heard evil laughter, then the pressure abruptly vanished. His mind was his own again.
Angelo calmly rinsed himself off and stepped out of the shower. Then, after dripping all over the bathroom floor, he walked out, dripping all over the ugly green carpeting.
He was naked. Vulnerable. He didn't care.
Angelo walked up to the asshole and unflinchingly met his eyes. "What are you and what the fuck do you want?"
"I can ask you the same question. You've spooked my young associate." He chuckled. "She doesn't know quite what to make of you, mongarçon."
At that moment, Angelo heard the door open. He had the sudden urge to hide under the bed. It didn't matter if this freak saw him, but Angelo would be damned if the guy's girlfriend or wife would see his bare ass.
It wasn't her.
Dressed in a Catholic school uniform, black patent leather shoes and white knee socks, was the little girl Angelo had seen the night before. "Ardoin, it's too hot here. When are we leaving?" She emptied the contents of her little girl's purse on the bed, littering the bedspread with wads of tens and twenties. "This should give us enough money to stay at a nicer place when we get to Tallahassee, you cheap bastard."
Angelo was quickly getting the picture and he realized what Ardoinwanted from him. "You dirty fucker! You're her pimp, and you thought you were gonna add me to your lineup? Fuck that!"
Then he faced the little girl. "Run," he cried, before gathering all of his strength, reaching out with his mind and astrally jumping Ardoin.
Only to return to his own body, seconds later, gasping for breath. Ardoin's body had no sex energy. No life energy. No life. Angelo had just been inside a corpse.
A corpse who was laughing hysterically. "Ah, so that's how you do it, demon. No wonder she couldn't kill you so easily." He turned to the girl, who was shaking. "But you know he's more than that don't you, Sylvie? You felt it the second you walked in here."
Sylvie violently shook her head. "No," she whispered.
"You know better. You also know that you Awakened part of him last night, even though you meant to kill him instead."
"Please, Ardoin," she begged, "He tried to save me."
"Isn't that sweet," Ardoin mocked. "Your white knight is nothing but a slut that will sleep with anything that has two legs." Then he grinned at Angelo. A full, wide-toothed grin with teeth that were long and sharp.
Almost reflexively, Angelo's hand reached up to his neck. He rubbed at the soreness there, feeling a bruise and two tiny pinpricks. So small, they could have been mosquito bites.
Then he looked at Sylvie and the memories came flooding back. Her lips on his.The incredible lust for her that he still felt. Her tiny body pressed against him. Her tongue caressing his throat.Then the shock of slight pain.And her sucking.
"Vrikolakas!" Angelo screamed, so terrified he forgot to speak English.
Ardoin shook his head. "Such a nasty word. And I wouldn't talk if I was you, little boy. You're no less a monster than we are."
That might have been true, but Angelo was not about to stick around to compare. He ran to the door but quicker than thought, Ardoin was already blocking the door. "Come now, cher, do you really think I'm about to let you out that door, naked as a jaybird? Set a spell. You're not going anywhere." The deceptively soft voice couldn't hide the menace behind it.
Angelo had used most of his strength to jump Ardoin, the rest had been used to run. For the first time in two years, he was powerless again. Damn it to fucking hell.
Ardoin scooped Angelo into his arms and threw him on the bed. "Sylvie, see to him."
"Why me? You can easily do it."
Sylvie slowly walked to the bed and lay down next to him. "I'm sorry," she said before she leaned over and touched her lips to his throat.
Fade to black.
* * * * * * *
Angelo abruptly awakened to the sound of talking. It was Sylvie, Ardoin, and another, deeper voice that had to either belong to his woman or his whore.
He felt like he'd been strapped to the head, bound by his hands feet and the length of his body. Angelo opened his eyes and looked. He saw nothing that was holding him there, yet he was definitely stuck. An invisible force, much stronger than rope, was holding him fast.
Fucking lovely. Angelo decided that he may as well go back to sleep, there was no chance he was getting out of here anytime soon. He shut his eyes again, and began to drift off, lulled by the soft voices speaking in a language he didn't understand.
Then he heard Ardoin ask in English, (So, tell me, Angelique, just what have you been able to find out about our new guest?)
Angelo snapped awake and listened, hoping that if he kept his eyes closed, they wouldn't realize he was awake.
(Nothing that you couldn't have,) Angelique replied with a hint of exasperation. (It wasn't as if you couldn't read his mind yourself. You were in it, after all.)
Ardoin laughed. (Not quite, sister. His shielding was enough to block me from doing anything but a simple scan.)
Angelo realized that Ardoin still had that drawl, but he'd dropped the "country bumpkin" accent completely.
(Since when has the rudimentary shielding of a latent telepath ever stopped you, Ardoin?)
Shielding? Telepath? The words were in English but they sounded like gobbledygook to Angelo.
(It didn't stop me,cher. It protected me. It warned me against going any deeper.) Ardoin winced. (Do you have even a hint of an idea of what it felt like to be possessed by that creature?)
The way Angelo saw things, he wasn't there long enough for Ardoin to bitch. And it wasn't like it had been a picnic for Angelo. He shuddered, remembering the stillness, the lack of a heartbeat, the dearth of any life energy whatsoever. Disposing of dead bodies was one thing. Inhabiting one was quite another.
Apparently, Angelique had no sympathy for her brother, either. (It's your own fault. The boy was so weak he wouldn't have been able to do it if you'd withdrawn contact completely instead of skulking around. You made it easy for him by providing a conduit for him to use.)
Oh? That was nice. No only did that skunk invade Angelo's mind and read his thoughts like some cheap dime store novel, he hid out so Angelo couldn't feel him. But by doing that, it seemed that Ardoin fucked himself and created an opening that Angelo wouldn't have had otherwise. If he wasn't so pissed off, Angelo would have been amused.
But he was tired of being analyzed and discussed as if he were some science experiment. He opened his eyes and glared at the three of them. "Look," he growled, "If you're gonna kill me, just fucking do it already and stop boring me to death."
Sylvie gasped. (You can hear us?)
Ardoin laughed. (Of course he can. I told you, he's one of us, and when you juiced him, you pushed him towards Maturity.)
A ravishing young woman walked towards the bed. She had to be Angelique. She had similar features as her brother, but instead of grey eyes, they were green. However, they had that same transparent quality. (I know what you are,) she said quietly. (I also know that you haven't fed in a while so when I unbind you, the first thing you will try to do is try to walk out of here and rape the first person you see. ) Her lips pressed in a tight line. (Don't even attempt it, or I'll kill you. You talk glibly about your death but I know you don't want to die.)
Angelo wasn't happy that she knew so much about him, but he was a realist, and recognized he had no other choice but to cooperate with the vixen. "You're gonnastarve me then?"
(No,) Ardoin answered. (We'll take care of that later. But first, I have a proposition for you.)
(Yeah?) Angelo's eyes narrowed with suspicion. (What?)
(When I was in your mind, I was able to find out a little bit about you, Angelo. For someone who was quite young when you came into your power, you handle yourself quite well.) Ardoin gave him a conspiratory smile. (I like you, boy. You'd be a great asset to us.)
Interesting. But Angelo wasn't biting so quick. "And what do I have to offer you? If you know what I am, you know that everything I can do deals with sex in some shape or form. Unless you want me to turn tricks, that's not real useful."
(What if I told you that I know of other abilities you have that you take for granted and have nothing to do with the fact that you are an incubus?)
Angelo stared at him. (Incubus? Is that what I am?)
Angelique nodded. (Pretty much. And for a kid, you're quite powerful. If you hadn't been sapped from Sylvie feeding from you and your own lack of sustenance, I couldn't have bound you so easily. But that's only part of what you are and that's why we've kept you alive.)
Angelo recognized that he did have some value to them after all. "Fine. Unbind me, thenwe'll talk."
(I didn't just bind you, I've shielded you from the agony of your starvation. Once you're unbound, you're going to feel it, and not be able to do anything about it. Can you do that?)
"Anything is better than being trapped like this."
Angelique's hands traced the outline of Angelo's body and he suddenly grew very hot.
(That's the energy holding you there. I'm removing it now.)
The hands drew out the heat that surrounded him, and Angelo immediately felt the cold air. He shivered, but at least he could move.
Then the pain hit him. Nausea and the worst pounding headache he'd ever had. His head was being squeezed in a vise, and the slightest sound made him want to scream. But that wasn't all,he was feeling something completely new as well. Angelo was so thirsty. His mouth throat burned, and his mouth felt like he'd swallowed sand.
"Water," Angelo croaked.
Ardoin shook his head. (It won't help you.) He turned to Angelique. (Go get him something that will help him.)
(Ardoin, I have none made, I'll have to make a fresh batch. Besides, he may not keep it down.)
Now Angelo's stomach was cramping like crazy, he doubled over, then kept his head down to stop from puking.
(Well he's Maturing at an extremely rapid rate, if we don't give him something soon, instinct will drive him to get it himself.) Ardoin said.
(All right, I'll be right back,) she told them. Then all of the sudden she was gone. Angelo hadn't even seen her leave.
"What the fuck is going on?" Angelo demanded.
(Your body is going through a change. If we don't do something fast, we won't have to kill you, you'll die.)
"What kind of a change?"
(It all has to do with what you are. You descend from a bloodline that is known asSangsue. So do Angelique, Sylvie and myself. It's the reason why your hearing is more acute than other people. Norms couldn't hear this speech but you can easily. It's also the reason why you're able to manipulate the emotions of others, and why you're a telepath.)
"You called me that twice today. Tell me what that is."
(A telepath is someone who can read thoughts and transmit them,) Sylvie answered. (Ardoin says that you're undeveloped but we can teach you how to use your power.)
"All out of goodness of your heart," Angelo sneered.
Ardoin laughed. (All because we're of the same blood.Which leads me to my proposal. Angelo, I want to make you one of us.)
Angelo choked. "You mean a vam-"
(We're not exactly that but it's close enough.) Sylvie replied.
All of a sudden Angelique was by his side, again, holding a wine bottle filled with a dark red liquid. (Drink.) She popped off the cork and handed it to him. (It will make you feel better.)
For all he knew it could be poison but Angelo took a sip anyway. It tasted a little like wine, but with a delicious sweetness that somehow tasted familiar, yet he'd never had it before. He gulped down the rest and almost instantaneously, he felt refreshed. No longer thirsty. He was still hungry of course, but only one thing would take care of that.
He was still savoring the ambrosial taste, when Ardoin casually said, (You know what you just drank, don't you?)
Angelo licked his lips, thinking of what it could be. The color was darker than any wine he'd ever seen. Almost as dark as....
The bottle dropped from his hand.
(I see that you've figured it out,) Ardoin remarked, (But your body will use it up before long. Wedon'thave much time, Angelo. Decide immediately. Either you become one of us, tonight, or we'll kill you, now, because I will be damned if all life will go to waste.)
It took Angelo about three seconds to reach a decision.
"Go ahead, then. Make me one of you."
Widower©Janette, 1997 - 2005
Black Widower©Janette, 1997 - 2005
Last Updated 9/23/06
Page Last Updated 9/23/06