Demon's Kiss

Vixen paced from one end of her cell to the other without breaking stride. Her steps were small and light and smooth, and she tended to walk on her toes. She didn't like it here. She didn't like the people who were holding her. She didn't like the bars that held her captive or the fact that she couldn't simply squeeze out between them. She could have, once. Before they made her into whatever sort of demon she had become. But she hadn't been able to change since.



"Vixen, is it?"



The one called Briar leaned against the cage from the outside. Her hair was wild, wavy, thick and mink-brown, like her eyes. She was very young, must have been made into one of them at an unreasonably early age.



Then again, so had Vixen herself.



"What do you want?" Vixen asked. She gathered her hair, pulling it around to the front of her, so it hung over one shoulder, and stroked it. Whenever she was nervous, she tended to stroke or play with it-her way of touching her own nature, reminding herself of who and what she truly was. Not one of them. Never one of them.



"It's not what I want," Briar said. "It's what Gregor wants."



Vixen shrugged. "What does he want, then?"



"He wants you to help him. After all, he's helped you."



"He caged me. In this body. In this cell."



Briar shrugged. "In the cell, maybe. Not in the body, though. You can still change."



Vixen lowered her eyes, shaking her head slowly. Her throat felt tight, and odd, warm fluid filled her eyes. "I was in human form when he...bit me and drank my blood as if I were a chicken. He made me...whatever I am now. I tried to shift back, but-"



"You were newly made, and you were weak and frightened. That was six months ago, Vixen. You're stronger now. You have to try again."



Vixen looked Briar in the eye and shivered. She always shivered when she caught the scent of the darkness that lived in that one's soul. It was cold and frightening.



"Try, Vixen."



Vixen sighed and shook her head side to side.



"Try, Vixen," Briar said again, but she said it differently this time. There was anger in her voice. "Try, or go to sleep hungry again."



"I don't mind going to sleep hungry."



Briar sighed and reached up to the wall, where the long metal prod rested on a hook. Vixen flinched, and backed up as far as her cell would allow.



"Fine," Briar said, "I'll just play with you for a while, and then you can go to bed hungry. How's that sound?" She stuck the rod between the bars, and no matter how Vixen twisted away, she couldn't get beyond its reach. It touched her belly, and jolted her so hard her head snapped back and her knees buckled.



She curled on the floor, trembling. "Please, don't."



"But I enjoy it so." Briar poked her again, in the neck this time.



Vixen jerked away, and her head hit the floor.



"Now, you're going to try for me. Aren't you, Vixen?"



Vixen opened her mouth to answer, but she couldn't get words out. Briar stabbed the rod in the small of her back, and she arched and cried out, forming the word yes on her agonized scream. When it died, she lay there on the cold stone floor, shaking uncontrollably. "Yes," she whispered. "I'll try."



"Good. I'll give you an hour to recover. And if you make me torture you again, Vixen, it's going to be something a hell of a lot worse than the prod. Understand?"



Vixen nodded, the motions jerky and tight.



"One hour." Briar turned and walked away down the echoing stone hallway, taking the light with her. Vixen heard her feet ascending stairs, and then the slamming of a heavy door. She was alone. Her senses wouldn't deceive her about something so simple. She was alone, here. The only prisoner of these cruel sapiens.



And yet, she wasn't alone.



There was a mouse family living on the other side of the room. They'd made a nest in one of the deep chasms in the stone, and they huddled there out of sight whenever one of them came into the dungeon. But they would come out for her. Oh, they wouldn't get too close. After all, she'd spent a good many hours of her life as one of their natural predators. But despite that, they sensed her animal nature, and her pain and distress. They were curious.



They came out now, though she'd felt them coming even before she saw them. She heard their little squeaks as they conversed and began hunting the floor for any crumbs, shooting looks her way as they went.



You won't find any crumbs around here. Those ones don't eat food. She thought the words at them, as images and ideas, not as a language. And she knew they understood. They hurried across the floor, to the loose board in the bottom of the door that led outside, and squeezed their tiny bodies through it.



She hoped they would gnaw it some more as she had tried to convey they should. If she could shift, she would need the board to give a bit more to allow her to squeeze through easily-though she might be able to fit even now, if only she could change.



Even when the mice were gone, she still didn't feel entirely alone.



There had been someone else. She'd sensed him all at once tonight, when one of the drones had taken her outside for a well-guarded and far too short walk. Gregor wanted her healthy-weak, and half-starved, but basically sound-until he figured out whether he could use her or not. So she was granted a nightly walk. And tonight, she'd felt him. A male. A kind one. He had seemed so very real, and so near that she had even lifted her head, sniffing the air and feeling with her senses to try to locate him, even identify him. Human or animal or vampire-she couldn't be sure. And then she had realized that he wasn't close to her, not physically. But in some other way, he was. Incredibly close. And he was coming-coming to help her. She had felt it, known it.



He had told her so, somehow.



She had closed her eyes and focused on that feeling with everything in her. "If you're coming to me," she'd whispered, "please hurry. If I have to stay here much longer I'll die. Please hurry. I need you."



And just as suddenly as it had arrived, her sense of that other person, the male, faded entirely the moment she was ushered back inside, through the cellars she thought of as dungeons and into her cold cell.



She hadn't sensed him again since then. She wondered now if she had only imagined him, and she sank to the cold floor, lowering her head as despair crushed her.



But she didn't allow it to hold her in its grip. She lifted her chin, and she vowed that she would escape these creatures who held her. She was smarter than they were, more cunning, and more in tune with her senses and her instincts. If they were right, and she could shift back, then it would not take her long to make her way out of here. She would slip away at the first opportunity.



And then she would be free. Free to run and play and live again.



But even then, it would never be the same. She could never go back to what she was before. She knew it, sensed it. In a very real way, her life was already over.



Seth opened his eyes and lay very, very still, because damn. Everything was different.



"Ah, you're awake," the vampire said.



Seth blinked, amazed, because, yeah, the guy was a vampire, and it was real and now he was...he was...



"What's wrong, Seth?"



"Your voice. Dude, it's like I can hear every vocal cord vibrating when you talk."



"I know."



"I can feel the air touching my skin."



"You can probably hear the grass growing, if you listen for it," the vampire said.



"So I'm either tripping on acid, or I'm..."



"You're a vampire. Your senses are heightened. Magnified. Everything is impacted. You'll feel both pleasure and, unfortunately, pain, at levels almost beyond endurance."



Seth closed his eyes. "What a trip."



"An endless one," the man said.



Seth lifted his head, realizing he was in a car, and that the other man was driving. The road was dark before them, the lines flashing by at an alarming speed. "Where are we going?" A little voice deep inside told him he knew damn well where he was going. He was going to her. He didn't know how, or exactly why, but he felt it. He was getting closer to her with every mile.



"North Carolina. I was on a mission when you interrupted me, Seth. I don't have any more time to waste."



"I interrupted you? By what, almost dying?"



"Exactly."



Seth searched the vampire's dark face, awaiting an explanation he seemed reluctant to give. Finally, the man nodded as if he'd decided on something. "There are a lot of things you're going to need to learn in a very short time, Seth, and this isn't the most important among them. But I'll try to sate your curiosity all the same."



"Gee, thanks."



"You don't need to thank me. I'm your maker, your sire. Your father, in a way. It's my duty to educate you."



"I was being sarcastic, pal. You don't have much of a sense of humor, do you?"



"I've never seen the need for one."



"You ever...make any others?"



The vampire frowned at Seth briefly, before returning his gaze to the road. "You have a rare blood type, Seth. It contains an antigen called Belladonna. Humans with this blood type tend to grow weak and die young. They also tend to bleed excessively."



"I've always had the bleeding thing. I knew about the antigen-makes transfusions tough to come by. I didn't know I was gonna get weak and die young, though."



"You would have, eventually. Now you won't. But you know that. What you don't know is that only humans with the Belladonna antigen can become undead, Seth. Such mortals are known among us as the Chosen. All vampires had the antigen as mortals. And all vampires sense mortals with the antigen, and are compelled to aid and even protect them."



"You're kidding me. Hell, that's why you've shown up before. Helped me out when I got into trouble."



"That's why."



"But...why you, why not any others? I mean, there are others, right?" He sat up straighter in the seat, surprised that the movement didn't hurt him. Last he remembered, he'd been beaten within an inch of his life. "How many of them-of us-are there? And where are they? Are we going to meet them? Is there some kind of a-"



The driver actually smiled, and it was such a stunning thing to see that Seth went silent. That dark, morose expression faded for just a moment. But then it returned so swiftly that Seth almost wondered if he'd imagined the change. "May I continue now?" the vampire asked.



"Yeah. I just...There's so much I want to know."



"And you'll learn all of it, in time. For now, I'll continue with the part I've begun. For each vampire, there is one mortal with whom the psychic bond is particularly strong. For me, that mortal is you. That's why you've seen me before. That's why I've helped you when you've been in trouble in the past. And it's why I could not do anything but come to you again when you were near death."



Seth nodded slowly. "I appreciate it."



"If I'd had a choice in the matter, I'd likely have continued on my mission and left you to live or die on your own."



Hell, this guy was one cold son of a bitch, Seth thought.



"Careful. I can hear your thoughts, you know."



Seth's brows rose high. "You...?"



"But you aren't wrong. I am a cold son of a bitch."



"Damn."



Again the vampire smiled, just slightly this time. "I'll teach you to block your thoughts. It's just further evidence I made the right decision in bringing you along with me. Initially I intended to transform you and leave you behind. I only realized after the deed was done that a fledgling vampire as clueless as you wouldn't last a week on his own."



"Hey, ease up there, pal. I think I could have managed just fine on my own."



The vampire looked at him briefly, brows raised, a look of skepticism in his dark eyes.



"I'm not kidding," Seth told him; then he turned to gaze out the window, amazed that he could see for miles, and that everything was as clear as day to him, despite the fact that it was dark outside. "I've been waiting my whole life for this. I mean, I didn't know it was this, but it has to be. I always knew I was meant for something big, something important."



"The girl," the vampire said. And Seth shot him a look. The man shrugged. "You mentioned her, earlier."



He nodded. "She's part of it. But there's more. Maybe this mission of yours. What is it, exactly?"



"I've got to kill someone."



Seth shivered and looked down at his hands in his lap. "Hell."



"Don't worry. He's in dire need of killing. And I have no intention of letting you become involved. I work alone."



"Well, you did. But, uh, I'm kind of here now, so-"



"I work alone."



Seth nodded. The vamp was a cranky bastard. He realized, as the man shot him a look, that he'd heard that thought, too. Seth attempted a sheepish grin. "Sorry. This is gonna take some getting used to."



"Mmm."



"You know, I don't even know your name."



"Reaper," the vampire said. And that was it, nothing more.



"Reaper. Huh. Well, hell, I guess it fits." Seth was quiet for a moment; then he sent the guy a smirk. "So can I call you Grim?"



"No."



Not even a smile. Seth sat back in the seat, realizing that joking wasn't going to go over real big with this guy. He flipped on the radio and began looking for a decent station. "Reaper, you saved my butt back there. I owe you, you know. So if you decide you do need some help with this mission of yours, you just say the word, okay?"



Reaper looked at him with one brow higher than the other.



"Don't look like that. You don't know me, pal. There's not a lot I can't do."



"I don't doubt it. And I'd lay odds your friend J.J. will never forget what you did for him last night."



Seth looked at him, because that statement had almost sounded...approving. But there was no sign of it in Reaper's face. So Seth looked away, saying nothing.



"If there wasn't much you couldn't do before, Seth," Reaper told him, "then believe me, there is considerably less you can't do now. There are a few things you should know immediately, however."



"Shoot," Seth told him.



"You're extremely flammable. Stay away from fire. Sunlight will kill you, slowly and painfully. That part of the mythology is true."



"How about a stake through the heart?" Seth asked.



"A stake through any part of you could kill you, but not because of the stake. We tend to bleed excessively, and bleeding out is one of the ways we can die. However, if you get cut and can stanch the bleeding until the day sleep, you'll heal with the sunrise. Always remember that. If you can stay alive until daylight, you'll survive."



"Okay. How about a crucifix? Will that hurt me?"



"Don't be ridiculous. We're not devils."



"Sorry." He'd offended the guy. Hell, who knew vampires had pet peeves?



"You need blood to survive," Reaper went on. "You can get it from blood banks. You don't need to take victims. You're going to feel pain a hell of a lot more than you did before. It's one of the things that can lay you out. It can be that debilitating. But the balance to that is you'll feel pleasure more intensely, as well. The older you get, the more intense your senses become, and your other powers, as well."



"What other powers?"



"Running with great speed, leaping incredibly high, telepathy, mind control, sheer strength."



Seth smiled. He thought of his latest and most impressive feat to date. Besides saving J.J.'s life and becoming a vampire, that was. "I wonder if I could leap off the top of a crypt, somersault three times and land on my feet on a roof a dozen yards away."



"I wouldn't be surprised," Reaper said.



"Could you do it?"



"Of course."



Seth smiled a little. "Yeah, but could you do it over a toxic swamp full of zombies?"



Reaper frowned at him briefly, then shook his head as if puzzled and returned his attention to the road. Seth found a radio station he liked and cranked the volume. He was surprised that Reaper didn't reach out and snap it off again, and even more surprised to see the cranky bastard's foot tapping in time every now and then.



They rode that way for three excellent songs in a row; then the station launched into a block of commercials, so Seth turned it down. "So where in North Carolina are we going?" he asked.



"Emerald Isle. Rather near Wilmington."



"Uh-huh. Is that where the guy you have to kill is?"



"I don't know."



Seth waited. Reaper didn't say more, though. "Hey, come on, fill me in. You seem like a decent guy. You wouldn't be after this dude if there wasn't a reason."



"I'm a killer, Seth. An assassin. It's what I did as a mortal, and it's what I still do. I'm very good at it, but there are...there are things about me that make me as dangerous as hell. You're not safe with me. No one is. Keep that in mind, and keep your guard up. Don't trust me. Don't trust anyone."



Seth frowned, studying Reaper's profile. "Is that my first lesson on being a vampire?"



"That's your first lesson on being alive. It should be everyone's."



"You're intense, you know that? Are you always this serious? This freaking...dark?"



"Yes." Reaper glanced sideways at Seth, and then sighed. "There is a gang of rogue vampires, led by a man called Gregor, who've been murdering humans at will. Young, old, innocent, it doesn't matter. They leave bloodless bodies, with fang marks in their throats, lying around where they can be easily discovered. They have to be stopped."



"Damn straight. You can't just go around murdering innocent people."



"I'm more concerned at their lack of discretion. It exposes our existence to people who might otherwise never know of it. And that puts us all at risk."



"Oh." Seth nodded. "So what's in Wilmington?"



"A vampiress who might know something of the gang's whereabouts."



"What makes you think she knows?"



"She's beautiful, incredibly wealthy, and it's rumored she recently had her heart and her bank accounts broken by the same man. That sort of game is one Gregor's right-hand man is extremely fond of playing."



Seth nodded, and wondered if this vampiress with the broken heart was the woman he was looking for. He was still full of questions. But he decided to give Reaper a break. Then he reached up for the rearview mirror and tilted it down to check out his face. Sure, the pain was gone, but he had to be bruised pretty badly.



However, when he looked in the mirror, there was no reflection. A wave of nausea rose up in him, and he pushed it down.



"That's another one of the myths about us that are true," Reaper told him. "And your bruises are gone. They healed with the day sleep. Everything did, just as it always will."



Seth licked his lips, leaned back against the seat and closed his eyes. "One more question, okay?"



"Only one?" Reaper sounded skeptical.



"For now." Seth opened his eyes, wanting to see the guy's expression for this one. "That stuff you told me about the Chosen, and about every vampire having one special one, one that he's more connected to than any other?"



"Yes."



"Well, I'm a vampire now, too, right?"



Reaper nodded.



"So do I have a bond with one of the Chosen, too?"



"Yes. One of the Chosen-or, possibly even one who's already become a vampire. The bond remains even after the transformation. You may not know who it is right away, but yes. There will be a powerful connection, a pull. You'll know when that one needs you. You'll feel compelled to help."



"Could I have felt that bond even before I was changed over?"



Frowning, Reaper glanced at him. "I don't see why not."



Seth was pretty sure he already felt it. Had felt it all his life, and then, more potently than ever, just as his mortal life had ebbed away. The beautiful thing with the coppery red hair and the huge brown eyes. She was a part of his destiny. He'd never been more sure of anything.



For just a moment he started to panic. What if he was supposed to be helping her right now? What if he couldn't find her in time? What if...?



And then he felt it. Just as surely as day followed night, he knew it. They were going the right way. He was doing exactly what he was supposed to be doing. The fate he'd been waiting for was at hand. He'd never felt this way before. He knew it was dead-on-balls accurate.



He sighed and tried to relax. He was on his path, on his journey, doing what he'd been meant to do his entire life. And he was going to do it right.