21 Shades of Night, page 420
His feelers reached out gently - insidious little tendrils of power that could skirt the four corners of her mind, suck out whatever he wished to know, and leave as quickly as they had entered. She wouldn’t feel a thing. They could also infiltrate every pore of her being. He could sink himself into every nerve, sinew, muscle, and fibre. With little more effort than it would take a fly to flap its wings, he could control her heartbeat or even stop it, if he so desired. If she thought she was famed for death, her body count would be a mere drop in the ocean compared to the corpses he had managed to amass.
Violetta’s partner quickly pranced her to the other side of the ballroom, but even though she was now out of sight, she was most certainly not out of mind. His invisible probes dug their claws into her head and had a good look around.
The girl was, incredibly, unsullied by the touch of his kind. She must have dealt out death with the skill of a medieval executioner to have remained impermeable to the ranks of the undead. It didn’t worry him overmuch. There were two possible outcomes from their meeting. Either she would serve his life as a grand feast for the gods (if indeed there were any for the beast that he’d become) or he’d manage to have a little fun with her. Both options were tempting enough. He’d been dancing with death for the better part of the last century, and so far, his body had proved to be indestructible. If she could terminate the thick thread of immortality that remained steadfast inside his body, he would probably thank her wholeheartedly - if he had a heart, of course.
Feeling the eyes of the huntress upon him as she glided back towards him, he deposited his partner on a sentient gentleman who was waiting patiently for a dance by the large opaque mullioned windows. The air was redolent with the scent of gardenias and their perfume streamed through the partitions. He wrinkled his nose as his acute sense of smell was overwhelmed for a moment. Then, Sir Henry picked up his partner’s hand and led her gently towards the floor, smiling softly as he did so. The man had been observing Lady Harriet for some time, and every now again he was happy to perform a charitable deed if it suited his purposes. Whilst the gentleman’s thoughts were not particularly pure, he had a feeling they’d be in line with his salacious friend’s. He didn’t spare Harriet a glance as she waltzed away into the crowd. Striding purposefully outside towards the sickly aroma of flowers, he awaited his enemy with an almost childlike glee.
She took her own sweet time to arrive. Away from the safety of her compatriots, she was considerably more wary of him. Good. He wouldn’t mind witnessing a sliver of fear in those beautiful wide violet eyes that were famed for their intelligence as much as their beauty.
Plunging forth into the inky darkness, he let his senses reach out silently into the night, becoming the omnipotent being that all creatures feared. Feeling the hairs on the back of his neck prickle, he knew she was close.
‘What a pleasure it is to meet you at last, Violetta.’
He made sure the resonant tones of his voice penetrated her eardrums, and he felt her body clench. It was a beautiful, instinctively sexual response, and she was unprepared for it. The predator inside him preened its feathers. The sound of her breathing, a little faster than it should have been, assailed his ears in sparkling clarity. When she spoke, she nearly deafened him, and he had to quickly tone down his sensitive hearing.
‘Are you ready to die, Monsieur Martinet?’
Her voice was clear and deceptively calm, although he wasn’t fooled for a moment.
‘As ready as I’ll ever be,’ he drawled, nodding his head politely. ‘Feel free to do your worst, Madame.’
Turning around to feast his hypnotic blue eyes upon her, he widened them to their full potential. These were eyes that could see through a person’s soul in an instant and rifle through suitcases of hidden secrets with casual indiscretion, inhaling them all into his head to be used to his advantage at a later date.
Her eyes widened in fear, as he’d intended them to.
‘You have the gift,’ she gasped in a tight voice, already backing away from him in panic.
‘Ah oui, mon petite,’ he said menacingly. ‘Did none of the others tell you?’ He let himself enjoy the faint tremor that shook her body and rattled her composure. Then, he pushed his will upon her, rooting her legs to the spot as if she had been encased in concrete. Moving slowly towards his now immobile prey, he glared at her with his bright blue irises. ‘I suspect that’s because you killed them before they had a chance to talk about dear old Daddy.’ The look he gave her was faintly mocking.
She narrowed her eyes in response and tried to fight his control. Struggling to regain the use of her legs, the force of her will was quite impressive, but ultimately futile. He could see why most of his coven had fallen under the almost indomitable power that she wielded, though. This one was strong. He knew her agile body would be lightning fast and that she would know all the tricks of the ‘death’ trade, but it didn’t change anything. The fact remained that she was no match for his particular talents.
‘You have killed all of my children, chérie. For that alone you should die. Regrettably, I find that death falls far short of my expectations in the revenge stakes. It is, in my humble opinion, over far too quickly. So I’ll make you an offer you can’t refuse. Two minutes. You have two minutes in which to kill me in any way that you choose, without interference on my part. If you fail, however, the consequences will be high. I hasten to add that they might even be catastrophic for a woman of your nature, so think long and hard before accepting my challenge.’
He watched her eyes narrow as she waited for his verdict. Her little brain was whirring over all the cruelties that he might care to inflict upon her and not a one was correct, although some of her ideas certainly had merit. He wasted no time in setting her thoughts straight.
‘If you fail, I fancy you’ll be the first of my new breed of children. Depending on how exacting my desire for revenge is, I might even take you for a bride - an eternal one, Violetta.’ Her horrified shudder amused him. Delving inside her head once more, letting his talents have free rein, he listened attentively to her thoughts. The first thing he discovered was her terror at having her body overpowered by nothing more than his gaze. She had never witnessed that kind of control before, and her thoughts were already running rampant with the significance of what killing him would mean for mankind. Now that he had demonstrated his skill, he had just painted a great big red cross on his forehead. No matter. Death was the least of his concerns. Her thoughts then began taking on a different hue, and this time, she wondered how he might use his particular brand of control over her, should she fail. Violetta speculated between whether he would want her as his servant, to fetch and clean for him, or as a blood slave to feed upon, which was the considerably more unpalatable option for her. He resisted the urge to laugh. His designs on her were a little more carnal in nature, although he had no objections to tasting the delightful life force that flowed through her. He pondered on what the spicy red fluid coursing through her veins would taste like. A Bordeaux? No, that would be a little heavy and old. She was more of a Cotes de Provence rosé, soft, fruity and fresh – with a hint of summer and berries.
Her thoughts, which were becoming more jumbled and crazy by the second, forced him to pay attention once more. She was on the verge of accepting his challenge and fairly confident she stood a fighting chance at extinguishing his life. Her only concern was the ‘eternal bride’ threat. She did not fear death, surprisingly enough, unlike ninety-nine percent of her fellow mortals. The thought of becoming immortal, however, would shatter her mind to pieces. The eternal damnation, the loss of her soul, and becoming the evil she had fought so hard to destroy had her all a-flutter. He heard her deep inhalations of breath as she actively calmed herself down and thought through his proposal logically. In the end, she estimated her chances of success outweighed the risk of her mind’s destruction. Her reasoning was disgustingly noble. She believed that this would be the greatest service to the world her life could offer, and it was her duty to accept.
‘Two minutes should be more than enough time for what I have in mind, Monsieur. Release me.’
‘Say please.’ He gave her a dark look and a feral smile.
Attempting one last gargantuan effort at freeing her feet and finding herself still tightly pinned to the spot, she gave in gracefully. ‘Pretty please, Monsieur. Let me kill you.’ Well, not so gracefully after all.
* * *
RELEASING THE INVISIBLE glue that had held her feet pinioned to the soft grass, he watched as she fell forward before managing to regain her balance. Flexing her feet gingerly beneath her, she winced, but then her gaze hardened.
Kicking off the ridiculous shoes she’d worn for the evening’s proceedings, Violetta let them fly in the air. The lavender sandals hit him full force in the stomach before they dived towards the floor.
‘Death by stilettos? Now that’s one I haven’t seen before…’ He let his voice trail off into the cool night air as he stared at her face. She was mesmerising. The wind had taken her red hair and whipped it forward around her face. The lights from the ballroom behind her had illuminated it into seething orange flames. The soft lilac of her dress appeared almost translucent in the bright light, and her silhouette could be seen in sharp relief through the thin organza. The laser-cut silver filigree mask she wore was cast half in shadow and hid a good portion of her face, serving to give a mysterious but very alluring air. Although oxygen was not a pre-requisite for his kind, he sucked in a breath. For one tiny split second, he found himself entranced by the beauty before him, and he could have almost been persuaded to kiss her hand and kneel at her feet. In the next, he was angered by his momentary lapse in concentration and visions of the bloody massacre his coven had become haunted his thoughts. She would pay - in the worst way possible. In fact, if he lived through her attempts on his life, he would make it his mission to watch her suffer every hell imaginable.
‘Your two minutes begins now,’ he said coldly.
‘So be it,’ she whispered, and bending forwards to get a grip on the end of her dress, she pulled the floaty material upwards. Two creamy white thighs were revealed and black leather holsters encircled each. One held a small solid silver dagger and the other a sharp wooden stake.
It took all of his will power for his tongue to remain in his mouth. She had legs that reached up to the planet Venus, kissed it, and returned. The limbs of a dancer, they were slim, athletic, and beautifully smooth. He wanted them both beneath him. As quick as the vision of loveliness appeared, it vanished. A monstrous Medusa rose in its wake, and it was clear that she was all about business-as-usual. Her mouth had hardened, her eyes had lost their luminous gleam, and the hint of innocence he had seen within them might have been nothing more than a figment of his imagination. Here was a killer, a practiced deliverer of death, and she had no remorse for what she was about to do.
The chit wasted no time in flying at him, little good that it did her. He neatly sidestepped her advance and watched as she soared past him, heading towards the flowerbeds. There was a flutter of marigolds, a confusion of fuchsias, and a petulant little yelp as she got herself tangled up in the English roses. Then the tang of blood bloomed upon the air, and he cursed her every which way to hell as his mouth watered with the seductive aroma. He knew he should have fed before tonight’s proceedings, but the lure of feeding from her would make his abstinence all the sweeter. His hunger might put him slightly off-balance, but it was nothing he couldn’t handle.
Violetta’s second attempt on his life had her diving for his back, and he saw her in his mind’s eye, flying towards him with both hands gripping the cold silver hilt of her weapon. It was rather unsporting of her, but he had expected nothing less. She did not think him worthy enough of honour, so why should she play by the same rules? Employing the same tactic as before, he simply moved out of her way as soon as her feet had taken to the air. He watched with bored eyes as she fell heavily to the floor, dropping the knife and knocking all the air out of her body.
When she managed to refill her lungs with the precious substance of her kind, she spat at him and swore viciously. It seemed that failure did not become her.
‘You said you wouldn’t stop me!’ There was hysteria in her voice, and whilst he shouldn’t have admitted it to himself, it was rather pleasing to hear.
‘I said I wouldn’t interfere. I didn’t say I’d make it easy for you. You have control of both of your legs and I haven’t stopped your heart from beating, so count yourself lucky.’ He raised his eyebrows at her prone form in challenge. ‘Your two minutes are nearly up. If you’d be so gracious and remain where you are, I might be charitable and show you a good time before I decide whether to kill you or not.’
Her eyes flashed with an almost zealous intensity and she got to her feet with alarming speed. This time he was completely unprepared for her attack, as she had not broadcast her intentions in her mind. The girl was a fast learner. Holding a rough wooden stake in a grip of iron, she slammed it into his chest with impressive force and gave him a wide smile of victory, revealing nearly every one of her pearly-white teeth.
Her smile was short-lived. The stake did not sink deep into his flesh as she had expected but merely bounced off his chest, causing her to fly backwards. He heard something in her body snap, and then his synapses were flooded as he felt her pain. It splintered through her shoulder and her wide eyes almost shot forth from their sockets, giving him a look of utter incredulity. For a moment, shock deadened the pain.
‘You should be dead,’ she whispered.
‘Should be, would be, could be - but still am not, more’s the pity.’ He pulled her to her feet with her good arm and did not miss her sharp intake of breath. ‘Your two minutes is up,’ he said with quiet derision, ‘but I find I’m feeling generous. If you can stab me with your bad arm and your little silver blade over there, we’ll call it quits.’ He let her eyes follow his as they directed her to the fallen dagger, glinting forlornly in the soft moonlight with a freshly honed blade that would melt through flesh and bone.
When she hesitated, he reached for the knife himself, but his hellcat surprised him. Flipping her body over, she cradled the dagger in her good arm and spun it around to slice through the pale skin of his throat.
Again, she did not achieve the desired result. The blade merely scraped against the hard stone of his neck, and when she drew the edge back, she looked at the dulled surface in horror.
Grasping her fractured arm, he pulled her towards him and let her bitten-off scream warm the hollows of his mind. ‘You cheated,’ he accused her, his grip on her arm tightening.
‘You lied,’ she retorted, trying to wrench out of his grasp. ‘There was no possibility of your death this evening, was there? You are far too old. Older, even, than they say you are.’ Her expression was bleak and her face had taken on an unnatural pallor, but there were still twin shards of fire blazing from her violet eyes.
‘I did not lie.’ He sighed softly. ‘I had hoped that my body had not hardened into one of the Masters of my kind. It appears that you are too late, however, to put an end to my suffering. So, in order to entertain myself in the light of my new knowledge and misery, we shall begin to put a start to yours.’ He paused, lost in thought for a moment, before his cold face took on a smile of sorts. ‘If I am to take on a bride as the first of my new children, it would be wise to start training her in the art of pleasing me, would it not?’ His eyes were now dark voids of immeasurable power, and he directed them towards her. He painted an image in her head of what he wanted her to do and let her feel the dangerous pull of his insurmountable will as it surrounded her like a shroud.
‘No,’ she whispered, as his thought bloomed in her head like a blood red rose surrounded with thorny spikes. He projected a vision of perfect beauty polluted with the seeds of evil, for there she was on her hands and knees crawling towards him. Mud forced its way beneath her fingertips as her body ignited in flames of heady, potent arousal. Her breath ran short and her limbs quivered as she sought to reach the inverted V of his legs. She wanted him with all-consuming passion, and the emotion scared her. He had her hands running up the soft wool of his trouser legs, and she threw her head back, letting her red hair cascade in a curtain of soft waves as pleading words dripped wantonly from her lips. They were dirty words, hateful words, words of carnal sin, but it mattered not. Her whole body ached to see his naked flesh and feel her lips upon the most delicate part of him.
Whimpering under the image he had planted in her mind, she tried to shake her head to get rid of it, but he had locked her whole body down in a state of paralysis. Fear flooded her as his visualisation continued. Her hands continued their exploration, finding the long, hard length of his manhood captured and restrained behind several cloth boundaries, and her need to free him increased. She caressed him with her fingertips, gripped him softly in her hands, and ran her soft, wet tongue along his fly before letting the tips of her teeth nip lightly at the head of his covered cock. Her hot breath spilled over him, and he jumped and pulsed underneath her. The ache in her loins grew. She could feel moisture pooling between her legs and a gnawing hunger that could not be appeased with anything less than his domination of her body. Body, mind, and soul – everything hungered for his touch. Another whimper left her as she continued to fight his control and think of anything bar the images he was propelling into her brain. A crucifixion cross, her mother’s face, a bright-red sun setting on a bleeding ocean - all of these images managed to flutter across her eyes before he pushed them roughly away and forced her to continue with his monstrous vision.
Her body now made its way up his, hands taking a gentle hold of his balls as she palpated them softly in her fingers. Her lips found the shiny buckle of his belt, and her tongue lapped at the cold lines of steel before her teeth worked at the supple leather, anxiously trying to free it. Her hands encircled his waist before they impatiently pulled the dark fabric of both trousers and pants down his legs. As his cock sprang up to meet her, eager for her touch, she cared not that they were in a semi-public place, and she didn’t spare a thought for her embarrassment at the possibility of being caught. She simply speared her throat with the beautiful hot essence of male-hood and worshipped him with her lips and tongue, too impatient to continue any games of teasing. He suddenly released her from his vision, and her jaw opened in a silent O of shock.
