Midnight's Kiss
Page 21
She flung herself against the bars, shouting, “No!”
Ferals flooded the tunnel. Some lunged toward her, forcing her to leap back again. Others found their way through the open cell door. Over the tops of the ferals’ heads, Melly caught a glimpse of them on the inside of the bars in Julian’s cell.
She couldn’t see anything else, but she could hear things all too well.
An explosive snarling that gradually quieted.
Then that shuffling, or scraping sound she had first heard, as the Vampyres fed.
Five
A
fter what seemed a hellish eternity, the whistle sounded.
Melly had moved to crouch in her corner, behind the cot, where she rocked with her hands cupped over her ears, but even though it muffled the sounds somewhat, the whistle still penetrated. Pushing to her feet, she turned to watch the crowd of ferals.
This time, they were slow to respond. The whistle sounded again, sharp and piercing, and something cracked the air. It sounded like a whip.
Growling, the ferals retreated. As Justine appeared, Melly realized the other woman actually did have a whip. Once again, Justine cracked the whip across the ferals nearest to her, and they cowered away.
If Justine had really been the one to create the ferals, Melly could almost feel sorry for them.
Almost.
That was until she looked across to Julian’s cell and sickened rage replaced all other emotion.
He hung limp in the chains, his head hanging forward and his powerful body bloody and lax. Wiping at her wet cheeks, she said, Julian? Please say something.
He didn’t answer.
Her eyes kept watering and obscuring her vision. He couldn’t be dead. If he were dead, he would collapse into dust. There would be nothing left of him at all. Nobody to rage against. Nothing but the memory of the brief, bright warmth they had shared followed by years of bitterness.
Unable to maintain any anger toward him in the face of this horrible nightmare, she was left feeling a sharp pain and a sadness so dark it threatened to engulf her.
Justine and Vampyre Guy followed the ferals down the tunnel, and the sound of an iron clang rang against the stony walls. Moments later, they reappeared. They must have shut the gate to the tunnel again.
Fixing her gaze on Julian, Justine said to Vampyre Guy, “Clean up this mess.”
Ducking his head, he got to work, packing up the laptop and various items.
As Justine went into Julian’s cell, Melly said hoarsely, “Haven’t you done enough for one visit?”
“Maybe I have. Maybe not.”
“Leave him alone!”
Justine lifted Julian’s head to look into his unconscious face. She let his head fall again. “Oh, very well. They drained him pretty deeply. He’ll need time to recover enough so I can do it again.”
In that moment, Melly had never hated anybody as much as she hated Justine.
She forced herself to take deep, even breaths and think more or less logically. The torture session was over, at least for now, and the sooner Justine and Vampyre Guy left, the sooner she could pick her way out of her own cell and help Julian.
But she was feeling shaky from lack of proper food, too much stress and not enough rest. How much blood could she give Julian when she was like this? While she did have a little of her food stash left, a candy bar and the small bag of nuts, this situation was desperately unstable, and she needed to hold on to as many of her meager resources as she could.
She said, “If you’re going to keep me alive, I’m going to need more food and water.”
Justine stepped out of Julian’s cell, locked the door and swiveled to consider her. “I had forgotten about that. You have a point.” As she paused thoughtfully, Melly held her breath. “And no, I don’t want to get rid of you just yet. Not only have you proved useful for making Julian toe the line, but keeping you alive might prove useful in other ways as well.”
What other ways? Melly’s mind clicked into overdrive. Could Justine be planning on somehow using her against her mother?
Justine turned to Vampyre Guy. “Once you get this cleared up, see that you bring her more food and water.”
“Real food,” Melly interjected. “Not that useless gas station crap you brought the last time. And I need more batteries for the flashlight.”
Raising one eyebrow, Justine gave her a sardonic look. “Listen to you, getting all demanding.”
Lifting her chin, Melly stared back unwaveringly. “Do you want me alive or not? If you do, I need real food and water, not a candy bar here and there. And you know as well as I do that I don’t need the flashlight to survive, but I would appreciate it. Please.”
A long moment passed as the Vampyre considered her with a cold, assessing gaze. Then Justine smiled. “A ‘please,’ no less. It didn’t take long for you to learn how to sit up and beg. Maybe you’re not quite as stupid as I thought. Or at least you’re trainable.” She said to Vampyre Guy, “I think it will be so touching if she and Julian can gaze at each other from their prison cells. Be sure to bring her real food, water and more batteries. You and I have a lot to do, so make sure she has enough to last her for a couple of days. I’m not sure when we’ll make it back down here.”
“Yes, mistress,” said Vampyre Guy.
“The dogs are sated for now, but Julian’s blood will have made them faster and stronger,” Justine told him. “Be careful when you return and make sure you bring them plenty of food to keep them busy.”
So that was how she kept the feral Vampyres cooperative. As Melly thought of the people they had been feeding on when she had first discovered them, she felt sickened all over again.
Vampyre Guy glanced over his shoulder toward the gate. His eyes were wide, and he looked none too happy at the thought of returning alone. “Are you sure you won’t come back with me? They’re afraid of you, and they’re easier to manage when you’re here.”
Justine gave him an impatient look. “Grow a pair and deal with it. Right now I have more important things to do than hold your hand.”
He ducked his head. “Yes, mistress.”
Justine strode away. Down the tunnel, the iron gate creaked and clanged again. Melly listened to her footsteps recede in the distance while she watched Vampyre Guy get back to work. It didn’t take him long to finish packing up.
She glanced at Julian. He still hadn’t stirred. Stifling her worry, she leaned a shoulder against one of the bars and said to Vampyre Guy, “She’s not very nice to you, is she?”
Ferals flooded the tunnel. Some lunged toward her, forcing her to leap back again. Others found their way through the open cell door. Over the tops of the ferals’ heads, Melly caught a glimpse of them on the inside of the bars in Julian’s cell.
She couldn’t see anything else, but she could hear things all too well.
An explosive snarling that gradually quieted.
Then that shuffling, or scraping sound she had first heard, as the Vampyres fed.
Five
A
fter what seemed a hellish eternity, the whistle sounded.
Melly had moved to crouch in her corner, behind the cot, where she rocked with her hands cupped over her ears, but even though it muffled the sounds somewhat, the whistle still penetrated. Pushing to her feet, she turned to watch the crowd of ferals.
This time, they were slow to respond. The whistle sounded again, sharp and piercing, and something cracked the air. It sounded like a whip.
Growling, the ferals retreated. As Justine appeared, Melly realized the other woman actually did have a whip. Once again, Justine cracked the whip across the ferals nearest to her, and they cowered away.
If Justine had really been the one to create the ferals, Melly could almost feel sorry for them.
Almost.
That was until she looked across to Julian’s cell and sickened rage replaced all other emotion.
He hung limp in the chains, his head hanging forward and his powerful body bloody and lax. Wiping at her wet cheeks, she said, Julian? Please say something.
He didn’t answer.
Her eyes kept watering and obscuring her vision. He couldn’t be dead. If he were dead, he would collapse into dust. There would be nothing left of him at all. Nobody to rage against. Nothing but the memory of the brief, bright warmth they had shared followed by years of bitterness.
Unable to maintain any anger toward him in the face of this horrible nightmare, she was left feeling a sharp pain and a sadness so dark it threatened to engulf her.
Justine and Vampyre Guy followed the ferals down the tunnel, and the sound of an iron clang rang against the stony walls. Moments later, they reappeared. They must have shut the gate to the tunnel again.
Fixing her gaze on Julian, Justine said to Vampyre Guy, “Clean up this mess.”
Ducking his head, he got to work, packing up the laptop and various items.
As Justine went into Julian’s cell, Melly said hoarsely, “Haven’t you done enough for one visit?”
“Maybe I have. Maybe not.”
“Leave him alone!”
Justine lifted Julian’s head to look into his unconscious face. She let his head fall again. “Oh, very well. They drained him pretty deeply. He’ll need time to recover enough so I can do it again.”
In that moment, Melly had never hated anybody as much as she hated Justine.
She forced herself to take deep, even breaths and think more or less logically. The torture session was over, at least for now, and the sooner Justine and Vampyre Guy left, the sooner she could pick her way out of her own cell and help Julian.
But she was feeling shaky from lack of proper food, too much stress and not enough rest. How much blood could she give Julian when she was like this? While she did have a little of her food stash left, a candy bar and the small bag of nuts, this situation was desperately unstable, and she needed to hold on to as many of her meager resources as she could.
She said, “If you’re going to keep me alive, I’m going to need more food and water.”
Justine stepped out of Julian’s cell, locked the door and swiveled to consider her. “I had forgotten about that. You have a point.” As she paused thoughtfully, Melly held her breath. “And no, I don’t want to get rid of you just yet. Not only have you proved useful for making Julian toe the line, but keeping you alive might prove useful in other ways as well.”
What other ways? Melly’s mind clicked into overdrive. Could Justine be planning on somehow using her against her mother?
Justine turned to Vampyre Guy. “Once you get this cleared up, see that you bring her more food and water.”
“Real food,” Melly interjected. “Not that useless gas station crap you brought the last time. And I need more batteries for the flashlight.”
Raising one eyebrow, Justine gave her a sardonic look. “Listen to you, getting all demanding.”
Lifting her chin, Melly stared back unwaveringly. “Do you want me alive or not? If you do, I need real food and water, not a candy bar here and there. And you know as well as I do that I don’t need the flashlight to survive, but I would appreciate it. Please.”
A long moment passed as the Vampyre considered her with a cold, assessing gaze. Then Justine smiled. “A ‘please,’ no less. It didn’t take long for you to learn how to sit up and beg. Maybe you’re not quite as stupid as I thought. Or at least you’re trainable.” She said to Vampyre Guy, “I think it will be so touching if she and Julian can gaze at each other from their prison cells. Be sure to bring her real food, water and more batteries. You and I have a lot to do, so make sure she has enough to last her for a couple of days. I’m not sure when we’ll make it back down here.”
“Yes, mistress,” said Vampyre Guy.
“The dogs are sated for now, but Julian’s blood will have made them faster and stronger,” Justine told him. “Be careful when you return and make sure you bring them plenty of food to keep them busy.”
So that was how she kept the feral Vampyres cooperative. As Melly thought of the people they had been feeding on when she had first discovered them, she felt sickened all over again.
Vampyre Guy glanced over his shoulder toward the gate. His eyes were wide, and he looked none too happy at the thought of returning alone. “Are you sure you won’t come back with me? They’re afraid of you, and they’re easier to manage when you’re here.”
Justine gave him an impatient look. “Grow a pair and deal with it. Right now I have more important things to do than hold your hand.”
He ducked his head. “Yes, mistress.”
Justine strode away. Down the tunnel, the iron gate creaked and clanged again. Melly listened to her footsteps recede in the distance while she watched Vampyre Guy get back to work. It didn’t take him long to finish packing up.
She glanced at Julian. He still hadn’t stirred. Stifling her worry, she leaned a shoulder against one of the bars and said to Vampyre Guy, “She’s not very nice to you, is she?”
