Limerence II (14 page)

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Authors: Claire C Riley

BOOK: Limerence II
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“Stop.” I clasp her face in my hands, pulling her head to mine and willing her to open her eyes. “Mia, look at me.”

Her eyes flutter open and she smiles. My hands fall limply to my sides, my mouth suddenly dry.

“My name is Maya,” she whispers. “And I’ve been waiting for freedom for such a long time.” She smiles again, her once beautiful hazel eyes almost black.

 

Part Two
Maya

 

One.

 

Maya             

 

“Don’t be sad,
Evan, she’s still here,” I tap the side of my head, “somewhere.”

He continues to stare at me in shock, the idea that I am not Mia still registering on his handsome, rugged face. His large hands still clutch at my hips, his limp body still inside me.

I move a little on him and grin. “Maybe we could have a round two?” I laugh with a raised eyebrow.

His face goes from shock to disgust to anger, and he lifts me and practically throws me from his body. I land sprawled across the bed, still laughing as he fumbles for his clothes, stepping into his pants and buttoning them up, all without taking his eyes from me.

I roll on to my front and continue to watch him back, smiling the entire time and adjusting to my new body. I’m still fine-tuning my senses, fighting back the nausea that accompanies taking over Mia’s body, and testing out all my body parts with a wiggle of toes and a wriggle of fingers. I had all but given up on her—she had seemed to be growing stronger and my grip was loosening, the bars of my cage tightening in on me, locking me into the blackness within.

I close my eyes, seeing her trapped within me, tears pouring from her eyes as she screams silently. Unfortunately for her, I’m stronger than she was, and more accustomed to the surroundings that she now finds herself in. A sharp
bang
interrupts my gloating and I open my eyes back up to see a fully dressed Evan standing over me.

I sit up with another wide grin and lick my lips. “Have you changed your mind?” I clutch at the leg of his pants, running my nails down his inner thigh.

He snarls and pulls away from me and I laugh again with a fake pout.

“I’ll take that as a no, then.”

“Bring her back,” he snarls.

I crawl from the bed and stand naked before him. His eyes appraise my body regardless of his hatred for me, and I can’t help but gloat at
her,
knowing that she missed out on the best part of Evan when I took over. Her weak and fragile mind was too overcome with grief and pain to keep me at bay any longer. I had seen my gap and I had snuck in, pushed my way through as I dragged her back down into the dark depths that she has forced me to live in for so many months. Poor Evan: his aura wraps around him, almost strangling him with his own guilt at what he has done. His rejection of her earlier, his constant teasing back and forth, and then his acceptance and choosing of her finally broke her down.

He is her downfall, but he is my saviour.

I look down at my torn and wet clothing before moving forwards to him. The feel of my body is exquisite: to actually feel arms and legs and an ass, hips and breasts. I groan as my hands roam my body, watching him devour me yet hate me at the same time.

“I want to thank you, Evan.”

“Thank me? For what?” he scowls, his body practically trembling with rage and the urge to break me—tear me apart limb from limb and pull Mia out from inside of me. However, that is not how this works, and he knows that only too well. I am her, and she is me.

“For setting me free.” I give a pause, letting that news settle on him. He knew, of course, but I have confirmed his deepest fear for him. “For getting rid of that pathetic little sap, Mia. You did this to her. You made her weak. You have destroyed that which you love, and I shall let you live to carry that burden with you.” I smile at him, running my tongue across my bottom lip and laughing as he visibly shudders. “Now, now, you should be thanking me for taking over and making it all the more enjoyable for you—just think how drab the sex would have been with only Mia!” I roll my eyes.

“Mia is more of a woman than you will ever be,” he growls darkly.

I tut with a laugh. “Now, we both know that that’s not true. After all, I was there for most of the show, and I know that I wasn’t all bad to you.”

He squeezes his eyes closed, and I can see how much this is hurting him. Strangely, it only makes me feel happier. I brush past him, my naked shoulder rubbing past his, and his eyes flick back open.

“Where are you going?” he grumbles, his mouth a hard line, a deep scowl set between his eyes. He cracks his knuckles in irritation and anxiety. The noise grates on my nerves and I scowl at him.

“I am going to enjoy this body. I am going to have some fun, and
she
can watch and see how she likes it from the inside.” I open the door as he shouts after me.

“You know I can’t let you go. I have to take you to the Queen,” he yells, following after me.

A breeze passes over my body and a shiver trembles across my pale skin. It’s the most delicious feeling I’ve experienced yet—well, nearly the most. I think back to the trembles of my orgasm ripping through my core and sigh.

“Try and stop me, Evan. See how much I hurt
her
. See how much I hurt you.” I look back over my shoulder at him. “I am not the vampire that she was—I am much more powerful. I know that my limits are much more than she ever thought possible—than any of you ever thought possible—because I have been inside and I have seen the power within this body. All except the Queen. She knew. She knew all along. That’s why she wanted to kill Mia—kill me.”

Inside of me, Mia stops her sobbing as she listens intently to what I’m saying. But this is something I don’t want her to know. I don’t want her to know how powerful she could have been, how much she could have had if she had held on for a little longer. I want to see her suffer but I don’t want her to know the things I know. I tighten the cage around her, black bars dropping in place as she runs to escape them. She always kept me so comfortable: a bed, a chair, a table—so quaint. I, on the other hand, am not her. Her room is black and bare, her bars thick and rusty. I flip the light and she is swallowed into the darkness, her screams continuing to go unheard. I grin, happy at her misery. How I know all of this, I’m unsure, but when Mia saw the Queen, when she tried to beg for a future for herself and Evan, the Queen’s intentions were very clear, and the irritation I felt that Mia did not recognise it was more than I could contain.

“I really must be going. Can’t stop and chat all day.” I laugh wickedly. “I have a world to take over, and a queen to kill.”

His hand reaches out and clutches at my bicep, his grip tight and painful. “I said, I have to take you to see the Queen.”

“She will have your head,” I snap.

“I don’t care,” he rumbles.

I huff and then swing around, the back of my hand hitting his face so hard his huge body flies across the room. The small, fragile bones in my hand crunch upon the impact but are healing almost immediately. I gasp and bare my fangs at him. “Do not follow me, Evan. Or I will harm her, I will do immeasurable pain to your perfect Little Mia.” I hiss out my words and storm out of the room, slamming the door behind me.

My feet pad down the empty hallway, my body still naked to the world, my hips swaying with each step. I know where I am going and what my next move shall be. I have had a long time to plan my moves, to choose my path, and now I shall take it, and no one will stand in my way.

*

The redhead sits upright in her chair, her eyes bloodshot with dark grey rings underneath, her skin sallow-looking, and her body weakened from blood loss. Donny has been a bad boy, drinking from her through the night. Still, I can’t blame him: she does taste delicious. Her fear is still there, her fight weakened as her eyes follow me around the room.

I grab one of the other humans from their chairs—an older woman with greying hair. Of course she wasn’t always old, she’s just been here long enough to age. I pull her weak body towards me, pressing my fangs against her throat. Her eyes stare blankly ahead of her, not even registering where she is or what is happening. She has no aura; her soul sucked dry, she is no more than a weak, empty shell that refills constantly with blood. She is dead already, long since dissolved into madness. I could have picked any of the humans in here to drink from—young, old, male, female—but it really doesn’t matter when they are in this state, their blood unflavoured and pure, yet weak-tasting.

I cock my head to the side, feeling Mia testing her cage. Regardless, Mia is easy to control. I close my eyes and close the barriers further on her with a dark smile.

My senses are flexing, wanting to stretch out, like a butterfly unfurling its wings from its chrysalis; I’ve set my sights on freedom and I want to fly free, but the pathetic amount of blood Mia has been consuming is not enough to let my powers out.

I let my fangs pierce the fleshy skin around the throat of the old human, desperate for the first burst of blood on my tongue, and when it hits me I moan with delight. Like an explosion of something magical in my mouth, it is both hot and delicious. I groan as I drink, swallowing it down and all the while keeping look over the redhead. She stares at me while I watch her. Her fear is visible to me as I drink, her aura swimming around her in bright bursts of colours. Mia barely touched the surface with her power. It isn’t just auras, it’s scents and memories. I can taste them all on my tongue, feel them across my skin, see them with my eyes so crystal clear. The more I consume the clearer it all is, this world expanding upon my swollen belly.

The human runs dry, the very last of her nectar being swallowed down in a final greedy gulp. I drop her body to the floor and wipe my mouth with the back of my hand, feeling the smear of blood across my cheek as I do. Drops of blood have dripped from the corners of my mouth; I can feel them warm dripping off my chin. I stare at the redhead, wanting to drag her from the chair and drain her, the bloodlust hitting me hard, but I have more important plans for her.

I stand panting before her, my naked chest rising and falling. Her fear grows, and her fight wanes. I almost feel disappointed. I kneel before her, resting my head upon her knees, and stroking a hand down her calf.

“Do you understand me when I talk?” I say with a voice like butter to help soothe her. I look up so our eyes meet, and raise a questioning eyebrow. Colours burst around her and I know she understands me. I smile as I continue. “I am leaving here, and I am taking you with me.” Her fear spikes and I shush her. “Do not fear, you will be safe. I am going to take you away from here. I will take your pain away. I shall give you something—a gift.” I smile, my fangs still hanging down and causing her pupils to dilate as she sees them. I retract them and smile again, but she still seems taken over by fear.

I pull away to watch her more closely, her face inches from mine, her lips so full and luscious, begging to be kissed. I lean forwards, pressing my own mouth to hers, and groan deeply before giving her mouth one more kiss and looking back into her frightened eyes.

She will make a perfect prodigy for me.

Two.

 

I look around
our home. It is not perfect, but it will do for now, and it is big enough to accommodate the amount of Bastions that will fill its walls.

The redhead sits in the corner of the room, her body still trembling as it transforms. I have been watching her, mesmerised, for several hours. To see her body and soul change before my eyes is perhaps the most beautiful gift I have ever borne witness to.

She moans and rolls on to her side in pain, pulling her knees in to her chest. Blackness now surrounds her, a cloak of death as the venom of vampire takes hold, crushing her humanness from her. Her red hair hangs around her head, covering her beautiful face from my eyes like a blanket. I long to kneel beside her and wipe the hair away from her face, but she cannot be touched at this stage, not even to have mercy and kindness blessed upon her.

She cries out again, the sound like a thousand mice being crushed underfoot. She will need to feed soon. I see her appetite growing, the hunger for blood building in her—though she does not know what it is yet. The craving for something that she doesn’t quite understand yet, but will need to make her complete in my world.

I make my way to the small lilac bedroom, wary of leaving her like this but knowing it is a necessity. The shutters are drawn closed, only a single lamp shining in the corner. I pass the unmade bed and make my way to the large wooden closet, opening the door and looking inside at the three humans huddled against the far corner. It takes time to choose which would be the best for her. I do not choose hastily.

I can see many things, and I know many things. I can taste, and smell, and hear many things. And there are some things that my body just knows how to do, yet this does not make me any less unsure of it. For to ruin my redhead would be a travesty.

I choose a middle-aged man with thinning hair and a round belly. I think she will like to play with this one after she is done. Like a kitten with a ball of yarn, she will enjoy him. I lift him by his shirt, bringing him closer to my nose so that I can take in his scent one last time. I do not destroy life so easily, do not pick without care. Each human has been chosen for their requirement, for their scent that indicates something more, for their aura that shows their true colours. This man will make my redhead powerful, and she will adore me for it.

She will be faithful to me forever.

She will do my bidding.

She will belong to me, until she does not.

I smile as I pull him across the room, his shoeless feet dragging on the carpet. His body is heavy, and he fights me like a mouse in a trap, but a quick claw across his face calms him somewhat. Back in the main room, my redhead is stumbling around blindly, knocking things over in the search for what her body needs. Her nose goes in the air as I enter, the smell of the human’s blood driving her instincts on. She takes hesitant steps towards me, her eyes still tightly closed, and I do not make her beg, do not tease her with the promise of making the pain go away, but give the man directly to her, thrusting him into her waiting arms.

And she loves me for it.

Her aura sparks with need and wanting, her fangs dropping down painfully, making her squeal as she pulls the man close, his frantic fights useless against my beautiful redhead’s power. She smells him deeply, dragging the desire for his blood into her before opening her mouth wide and biting down carelessly on his throat.

The blood arcs against her, colouring her in the most beautiful shade of red, her first attempts at drinking clumsy and young. She closes her lips around the puncture marks and sucks hungrily. Blood escapes from her mouth as she greedily swallows. The man’s limbs flail and then falter before stopping altogether, and as a dead weight they both drop to their knees, and she continues to feed from him, grunting as she drags him closer, pulling his flaccid body on to her lap.

The pain burns through her and she abruptly stops drinking, pushing the body away from her in disgust and crawling blindly towards the corner of the room again, where she curls back up into a ball and cries. The pain intensifies, her veins alight with the final part of the transformation, and she thrashes, pressing herself against the wall as if the walls of this house will protect her from the pain her traitorous body is putting her through.

She screams and hits out, her nails dragging down the walls, tearing the paper from them, and then scoring into the plaster and through to the bricks. Her eyes finally open, whereupon she sees me, and she sobs helplessly. I wait patiently until she passes out from the exhaustion and pain. I linger for a few extra moments, being sure that she is completely out, and then I slip on my shoes, leaving by the back door.

Watching her transformation, her first feed, her first kill, has made me hungry.

*

The redhead stares back at me blankly. Her face is that much more beautiful for her transformation, her breasts that much more perfect, her skin that much smoother.

“How are you feeling?” I ask as she continues to stare.

“I, I…” She finally looks away. “I don’t know.” She drags a hand through her fiery locks and then looks strangely at her fingertips. Each sensation will be like the caress of silk to her touch right now—I remember it well.

“Do you see or feel any different?” I ask tentatively.

“Other than being dead?” Her eyes meet mine again as she snaps.

My fangs drop and I hiss at her. “Remember who you speak to.”

She cowers backwards, her eyes falling to the floor as she apologises.

“Does anything seem . . . wrong?” I try a different tack.

She looks up through her lashes nervously. “I think I can feel the earth.”

A slow smile spreads across my face. “How so?”

She stares at her hands again. “I can feel,” she rubs her fingertips together, “soil. And I can taste dirt under my tongue.” She looks back to me. “Why did you do this to me?”

“Why do you ask?” I retort with genuine curiosity. “Is this not the greatest gift?”

She thinks for a moment before replying. “I think that perhaps I have gone a little insane. This can’t be real,” she whispers.

“We are all a little insane,” I say calmly. “Do you remember your name?” I continue.

She runs hands through her hair again, pulling her hand away as if burnt, but continues to rub her fingertips together. “Sabrina, I believe it was.”

“Sabrina.” I consider it for a moment. “Perfect,” I say and stand. “Get some rest.”

Her hands wrap around one of mine as she drops to her knees in front of me. “Please?” she begs.

I look down on her, watching her beautiful pale face pleading with me to feed her. I run a hand through her fiery locks of hair, gripping a handful of the soft tendrils and tilting her head back. “Just one,” I say quietly before releasing her.

She nods frantically and scurries past me and into the other room. I hear the closet door open, and a muffled scream and a scuffle as she drags one of the humans out to feed on. I stand by the window, looking down on the busy street below, with the muffled backdrop of cries. Mia is quiet inside of me, buried deep in the darkness and trapped within her cage. I can relax a little knowing that I am fully in control.

Everything is coming together: the redhead is perfect, my power is growing, and I am free finally, but I want more. I can feel Evan searching for me, our blood bond still tying us together. The Queen is unaware of me yet, blind to that which will destroy her. For someone so paranoid, she is ignorant to what goes on so closely around her. No wonder Mr San wants to kill her so badly.

A satisfied warmth continues to grow inside me.

Could it be happiness? I’m not sure, though I know that I am happy. The colours of the humans all mingle down below, their colours muted and weak. Hidden amongst them all, one colour stands out brightly to me: a deep orange, almost auburn in its intensity. It sparks violently as the man is jostled by another passerby, and he turns and scowls before continuing on his way.

I turn from the window and head to the door in search of new recruits.

“I’ll be back soon, Sabrina. Don’t go anywhere.”

The air is warm on my skin, and I tilt my face to the sky, letting the heat from the sun bathe me from head to toe. Even though winter is approaching, the sun is fighting against nature and spreading her wings, letting her rays shine down on the earth. I respect the sun, respect the fact that it fights against the tide every morning even knowing that it cannot win, forcing itself up into the sky to heat the earth regardless that it will sink into nothing the following night.

The sun is a rebellious little bitch, and I respect that.

But the moon is strong and powerful, the strength it holds literally turning the tide of each new day. And I respect that also—respect the strength and the power, respect that it shines even in the darkest moments of the earth.

The moon is nonchalant to the sun’s rebellious ways, because it knows that no matter what, it will still rise the next evening no matter how much the sun thinks it has won the battle.

I listen to Mia inside of me, trapped within her darkened prison. She is pressing against her bars, trying to force her way out, but there is no way out. Just like the sun, she will always be overwhelmed by the true strength of the moon.

 

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