Exsanguinate (23 page)

“
A
irplanes
,” Khaldon slurred. “I hear airplanes. Are we going somewhere?”

“Shit!” Amicula snapped. “He must be gaining a tolerance to this stuff.” Carefully, she used a hospital syringe to squirt more Solunarae blood into his mouth. Smiling, she watched his eyes drift closed again as his arms continued to reflexively strain against the bonds. “Relax, my love, we’ll be at my house soon enough and the gentle sound of waves will calm you.”

Amicula’s driver looked back at her in the rear view mirror.

“Damian, I’m going to need your help when we get to my house. I need him inside quickly before he wakes up.”

“Yes ma’am. I’ve never seen Mr. Seters look like this before. Is he doing all right?”

“He’s fine, a little inebriated, but fine. Just be a good boy and drive the damn car, would you? I’ll take very good care of him.”

Minutes later they arrived at her condo in Cocoa Beach. Amicula helped Khaldon stumble into her bedroom and onto her bed. “Here we go, Khaldon. It’s showtime! Time to perform for me once again.”

“Wha, whats going on Ami? Why is everything so fuzzy?” Khaldon followed this with incomprehensible noises.

Amicula concluded these must be the slurred versions from his now extinct native dialect. Whatever that had been. She tugged at his shoes and threw them across the room. “Such a special treat – don’t you feel fabulous? Who would have thought it? Solunarae blood is like crack to vampires. No wonder the Weres can’t handle it. I’ve kept the lunar blood dosage small enough to keep you groggy but not enough to send you on a full blood rampage.” She admired her handiwork as Khaldon lay against her pillows in a blissful stupor. “We wouldn’t want that now? Would we, dear?”

“Why, Ami, I told you …” Khaldon drifted into incoherence again.

Amicula unzipped the side of her dress, letting it drop to the floor revealing her exquisite nakedness and moist eagerness. “Khaldon, lover, I am going to take your clothes off now, and you are going to have a good time whether you remember it or not.” She unbuttoned his shirt and unbuckled his belt. She folded his shirt and pants and set them neatly on the dressing chair in the corner. “We must not wrinkle your fine shirt now, you still have to look presentable in the morning.”

“Cheyenne, I’m sorry. I’ll help you do what ever you need me to,” Khaldon slurred.

“Well, now, Khaldon, that certainly is a mood breaker, isn’t it?” Amicula hissed through her teeth. She pulled out the vial of blood from her purse once again. “Well, a bit more won’t hurt you. Just enough to make you forget about that stupid O’Cuinn bitch.”

After Amicula poured the remaining blood from the vial into Khaldon’s mouth, she tied his wrists to the top of her poster bed with silver-lined fabric. Not enough to burn him, but just enough to weaken him.

Before completing the final knots at his ankles, Amicula sighed, “Oh my! Would you look at that! Mmmm – I remember that fondly.” Humming softly, she deftly removed his tented briefs, and completed securing him to the bed frame. “There – that should do you nicely.”

Lightly stroking her finger up and down his shaft, she easily brought him to full hardness.

Amicula grinned mischievously. “Well ya know, Khaldon, I was going to use this cock pump on you.” She gestured to a case near the bed as if he were able to understand her. “However, I don’t see any reason why I shouldn’t have some fun tonight. I have missed you dearly after all.”

Slowly she kneeled on the bed, again stroking Khaldon. “I just hope I’ll be able to tell when you are ready to give me your little legacies. I don’t want to waste anything so precious.”

Lifting her left leg, she straddled Khaldon’s knees. Taking him into her mouth, she fully lubricated him with her saliva.

Khaldon moaned in his stupor.

“Oh I have missed this, Khaldon. I know you have too. Soon you and I will be together again – just you wait.” Taking him in her hands she slithered up his body. “Mmmmm,” Amicula moaned softly as she lowered herself onto him. “This, Khaldon, this is what I’ve missed.” Settling herself all the way down, she began the seductive bump and grind.

“I wish you would be able to remember our fun in the morning. I guarantee you, one day soon,
I WILL
have you back begging me to fulfill all your fantasies.”

It wasn’t long before Amicula milked Khaldon for all he was worth several times, literally, and contained the precious life-giving semen in test tubes. Her mission was complete. For now.

* * *

“
W
ha
? Where am I?” Khaldon’s eyes opened in confusion. He tried to sit up in the bed but immediately dropped back onto the pillows. Rolling his head to the side he opened his eyes once again. “Amicula’s? How the hell did I get out here?”

One arm still tied to the bed post, he sat up and untied himself. Khaldon spotted his clothes in the corner and noted the time – eight a.m. He looked around and shouted for Amicula, but no one answered his call. As he stood, he realized how sore his testicles felt. “What the hell? No feckin’ way!”

Khaldon held onto his head while looking in the mirror, struggling to remember the truth of the situation. He grabbed his briefs. “Gawd dammit to hell, Amicula! How did you do this to me?” Finishing the last button on his shirt he walked into the living room and saw a note on the table. It read:

Khaldon crushed the note in his hands and shoved it in his pants pocket. She was nowhere in sight, her car gone. He reflected on her words.

This time? Four more vials?

He knew he’d never freely given her any of his swimmers – she’d gone too far.

Her aunt has driven her bat shit loony
.

He stood in front of the bay window overlooking the Atlantic and hung his head, trying to make any feckin’ sense of the situation. “What did she do to me? What the hell is she going to do with those vials?”

Khaldon stared at the oil painting over the fireplace mantle. Amicula had it commissioned from their days of debauchery. He remembered posing for the painter, Diego Velázquez in 1647, the same year Diego painted
Venus at Her Mirror
.

Khaldon tore the painting off the wall. He slashed Amicula’s face with crystal vase he destroyed from the mantle. He then swung the painting into her bay window, shattering the glass into a thousand pieces. The frame and painting tumbled down onto the rocky beach consumed by the saltwater waves destroying it and any memory of them forever.

* * *

O
n the drive
back to Kissimmee, Khaldon made a phone call to the coven. “Johan, can you tell me what you know about last night? Why am I at Amicula’s house in Cocoa Beach?”

“Not much, Khaldon, all I know is that Damien drove you and Amicula to her beach house. He came back and got Roland, and they took your car out there. Hulderich took Damian’s place as her driver because he can take the sun.”

“Where is Hulderich now?”

Soft tapping on a keyboard in the background. “He’s on his way back to the clan.”

“Where’s Amicula now?”

More keys clicked. “Huldrich called in and said he dropped her off at the airport near her place. Said she told him she was going to visit her aunt for a few days.”

“Thanks, Johan. I appreciate your help.”

“You know, Khaldon, I’m not supposed to give this kind information out, but you helped me out with my sister and that online picture.”

“Thanks, man. Yeah, I know. I owe you one now.”

“No worries, Khal – for you, anything.”

As Khaldon drove back into the city, he wondered if he could ever look at Cheyenne with honor again. What would she think about this? Would she understand? She trusted him to go and find out information about her sisters – not to get drugged, hijacked, and raped.

He moaned. “How in the world will I ever be able to explain this?”

“
W
as
that supposed to be a joke?” Harris asked.

“Huh? What? I don’t get it?”

“You suck at word scrambles. Get it? You suck? You’re a vampire, Hello?”

“Okay, Mr. Wise Nerd, help me figure out what these words say.”

“Seriously? He won’t let them eat or drink until I can solve this? That sadistic evil son-ova-be’atch! Harris, I’m afraid he is threatening about my dad. I need to check in on him.” I sat in my computer chair in a huff and grabbed my phone to dial my father’s number. I looked over the instant messages again.

“I don’t want to make life any more difficult for Dakota and Sheridan. There’s no telling what lies Ludovic is feeding them. Do you have that anagram descrambler program yet? I don’t like this. Daddy isn’t answering.”

“It’s three in the morning, so he’s probably asleep, don’t ya think?”

“Voicemail. Dammit to hell. Padme, can you dial my father’s house line?”

“Certainly. Please hold while I ring him,” Padme responded.

“Hmm, let’s take a look.” Harris navigated his keyboard with short cuts that sent my head reeling. “It might take a few minutes, but we can get thousands of variations on these words to help decipher. It shouldn’t take too long. In fact, the program has an algorithm to detect what words might best fit on either side of it. Sort of like a shingle analysis search engines use on web pages.”

C’mon Daddy, please pick up the phone.

“Cheyenne, I have received a voicemail machine. Would you care to leave a message?”

“Can you try his live-in nurse? She’s suppose to answer 24/7.”

“I think I have it deciphered. It’s not a difficult scramble … but, Chey, this isn’t good.” Harris turned to look at me. “Did you get ahold of your dad yet?”

“No – not yet. I’m trying for the live-in nurse who is supposed to be there with him. What are you seeing, H?”

“Cheyenne, I am being prompted to leave a voicemail for the nurse,” Padme said.

“All right, we’ll call back in a minute. Go ahead and terminate the call, Padme.”

Harris turned his monitor toward me, his face ashen.

I looked at his screen and read the unscrambled words.

“Daddy? No, please, please no!” I fell to my knees in front of his computer. “I … I just spoke to him earlier this evening!” Guilt and those horrible overwhelmings cascaded all over me again.

Harris came over and placed his arms around me. “Chey…”

I held him out at arm’s length with snot, blood, and mascara running down my face. “Did it say anything else?”

He handed me a tissue from the box of Kleenex I kept on the table. I blew my nose and tried to clean up my face, but the horrendous pressure of my father becoming Ludovic’s victim was more than my brain could wrap around.

“Chey, you go ahead and contact him on Dakota’s phone and I’ll call Briggs.”

“Should we wait for Khaldon, Roxas … oh hell, whatever his damn name is? He should be back anytime.”

“Look, Cheyenne, you read what he wrote. They could be starving or dying from dehydration. You need to call him now!”

I nodded, sniffed, and blew my nose. I called Dakota’s phone and left the message as instructed and then drove to my father’s house, praying against all odds that he was truly home and that this joke was on me. But something told me that wasn’t the case at all.