Chapter 11 #2
I winced. “No. I want you to scare him away.”
“He’s your husband. Is he really so cowardly that a little scare would keep him away from his true love?”
He’d stuck his arm in the monster’s mouth last night. “No, I guess not.”
“I could compel him, use my mastery of manipulation and hypnotism to force his mind to betray him. Is that would you would like? Would you enslave your husband to your fear?”
I scowled at him. He didn’t need to put it like that. “Of course not, it’s just that—”
“You’re afraid. I know. Just be happy that your children are far away. Would you like dessert?”
“Dessert?”
“Yes. There’s cherry jubilee or some kind of pudding. Blood probably.”
I winced. “That does sound lovely, but I’m on a diet.”
“Ah, sticking to fresh human blood? How disciplined of you. You mentioned something about a medic. Does your friend Gloria have any tendencies in that direction? I thought the only thing she could do was be a ho-hum host to the zombie queen.”
“She has a lot of really useful qualities. If we’re talking about people without skills, you don’t have to look any further than at me.” I gestured at myself.
He studied me, creepy black eyes roaming over me in a very blatantly interested way.
“Don’t actually look at me.”
“Stand up,” he said, pulling my chair back and helping me up by dragging me upright by the elbow. He walked with me to the clear area and then pulled me into his arms so that we were chest to chest.
“What are you doing?”
“Dancing.” He took two steps and then dipped me by holding the back of my head.
I flailed around. “What are you doing?”
“You already asked that. I am dancing. You are spoiling the music.”
“There’s no music!”
“There is always music if you pay close enough attention.” With that, he whirled me around, his feet moving with grace and dexterity while I barely stayed on my feet, and that thanks to his strong grip. I use the term ‘thanks’ lightly.
He yanked me close to him and then pushed me away before grabbing my neck and sending me over sideways.
I gurgled and clutched at his forearm. “You’re a lunatic,” I gasped out.
“If by lunatic you mean a maddeningly talented dancer, you are correct.”
“I don’t.”
“That’s because you have no appreciation for the subtle nuances of existence.
” And then he buried his fangs in my throat in the most painful way possible.
I’d never before appreciated exactly how strong he was.
His fingers dug into me, keeping me precisely where I was in spite of my thrashing and struggling while he drank from my neck.
It hurt much worse than the time he hadn’t broken the skin.
It felt like punishment. I tried to scream, but only a gurgle came out.
I clawed at him, but other than his hair, it was like trying to find purchase in stone.
I yanked on his hair, but he only growled and sank his fangs deeper until most of his mouth was around my neck. Maybe he’d rip it off entirely.
He didn’t. He did much worse and weirder things. I tried to yank on his hair, but my hands started going numb, then all of me, until I couldn’t feel his bite or anything else. I couldn’t move, couldn’t blink.
He released me, and with my blood staining his chin, he swept all the dishes from the table with one careless swipe of his hand and then put me on it, like a human sacrifice.
I couldn’t move, could only watch as he ripped apart my shirt and then buried his hand in my side, where the monster had clawed me.
Maybe it was a good thing that I was numb.
He rummaged around for a while. Yep. Definitely a good thing I couldn’t feel whatever he was doing.
“You see,” he finally said, pulling his hand out and holding out a little glob of blood and jelly.
“Those hounds don’t die easily, and if they do die, they can respawn in anyone with an open wound.
It takes some time for the germ to become something retrievable, like this.
If spawned alone, it will work its way to a body of warmth and wet, often human, sometimes a dog or cat.
And then, it grows overnight into that beast you had such a delightful time barely not dying from.
Having one of those explode out of you is worse than many things.
How can you be my exterminator if you’re off getting exploded by hounds of death?
” He tossed the glob in the air, opened his mouth, and caught it between his teeth.
He cocked his head while he chewed and then smiled, teeth gleaming while my blood was still all over his chin.
“I’m such a good Grand Master, caring so tenderly for my young and unwise subjects. You should sleep now.”
Sleep? I couldn’t move! How could I sleep?
And that thing had been inside of me? Why couldn’t he just say, ‘you need to go into surgery, so I’m going to call the doctor and put you to sleep with a nice normal sedative’ before he reached inside of me and pulled out…
I couldn’t really think about it without wanting to vomit, and I couldn’t move, so vomiting was off the table.
I, however, was on the table, still like I was going to be sacrificed or eaten.
“You’re right. It would be a pity to waste all this blood.” He bent over me and… I don’t know what he was doing. I couldn’t see him right there, and I couldn’t feel anything. For all I know, he was performing all sorts of kinky stuff with my blood and open wound, but I had absolutely no idea.
He raised his head and was less bloody than before. “You really should sleep. I can feel your will resisting the idea, but you need to rest and recover before you go off on another impetuous be-murdered spree. I’m afraid I must insist.”
He was over me, maybe floating, maybe just holding himself up on the table. His eyes were so dark, endless depths that swept around me until they swallowed me into the abyss of nothing and I was forced to sleep.