Chapter 40
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Did I massacre close to forty people less than a week ago? Yes. That didn’t change the fact that it felt like it’d been too long. My body was humming at the prospect of tearing open the veins of these self-righteous fuckers.
I hadn’t brought anything to torture them with, but I was creative when it came to this subject. There was a candelabra on the mantle. A fancy curtain rod that could be used as a spit. Maybe Sam was in the mood for a game of tug-of-war.
“Is there anyone else you don’t want here?” Seraphim asked.
Ugh. The damn fire fairy with his horns. I hadn’t forgotten him and his wandering hands. He also smelled like sex, which pissed me off more since the reason he needed to find release was standing between us.
“No,” she replied. Capturing her lip with her teeth, she appeared lost in thought.
“What are you thinking, Belladonna?”
“There’s this game we played in church. Does anyone remember it?”
Everyone had begun to congregate together, some of them praying and others crying. With a loud sigh, I grabbed the back of a man’s shirt. Turning him around, I was pleasantly surprised to see one of Sam’s brothers, Jed.
“I heard you have a baby on the way,” I said. “I wonder if that will make you more amenable.”
Thrusting him to the ground in front of Sam, I smiled at her. Her stoic expression faltered slightly when she met his eyes.
“The game,” she prompted softly.
“I d-don’t know,” he stammered. “Tag?”
“Judgment day.”
He paled. “Y-yeah, okay. I remember.”
“All the kids used to play it after church. Each of us would confess our greatest sin from that week and we’d vote on who had done the worst.” She crouched in front of him and removed her knife from her thigh. “We’d make a judgment about who would go to hell if the infamous rapture happened right then. Would you be safe, Jed?”
“Of course. I-I’m a sinner, but I’ve confessed it all. I do my best, I swear.”
“What about the rest of you? Have you done your best?”
“Samara, we’ve had enough of this,” Paul snarked. “This game is not funny.”
“Game? My fiancé literally ate a man two minutes ago and you think this is a game. God, religious people can be so delusional.”
“You’ve strayed from God. I told you so before you ran away.”
“That’s another thing.” Her voice had reached a higher pitch and I was certain her eyes looked brighter than usual as she pointed her blade toward the crowd. “You decided it wasn’t your fault.”
“It was your decision to leave.”
“Bull fucking shit.”
“Do not use that language in my house,” he roared.
Unable to help myself, I grabbed him by the throat and lifted him off the ground. The panic in his eyes was incredible.
“Baby, we’re guests,” Sam chided softly. “Let’s be reasonable, yeah?”
With a shrug, I threw him to the ground. Something cracked and he cried out. Striding back to my mate, I buried my nose in her hair as I slipped my hand under her dress to squeeze her ass.
“Oh my goodness,” someone gasped.
“I know. He’s hot as fuck, isn’t he?”
Vacant eyes blinked back at us. I followed her when she took a few steps toward her father, then crouched beside him. Her blade came down on his hand, pinning it to the wood floor. I could sense the satisfaction she felt from his scream.
“I lived on the streets for three weeks when I got to San Francisco. Eighty-nine cent packs of lunch meat and cold cans of ravioli were my go-to meals. Sure, I love that city, but it’s not exactly safe for a seventeen-year-old girl with no home. It was safer than here, though.”
“The Lord was looking out for you,” he rasped.
She laughed, one clipped sound that was enough to tell me she was in this to the end. There was always the chance she’d back out, but this was her moment. It was what I’d been waiting for since she first tasted my blood.
My bloodthirsty little witch.
“Actually,” she drawled, yanking her knife free. Her tongue traced the flat of it, dangerously close to the edge, and her fangs descended from the taste of the blood. Rachel started uttering her prayer faster. “Quite the opposite. I fell in love with the fucking devil. Turns out, he didn’t go down to Georgia.”
“The devil has entrapped you. Taken your purity and turned you into this rotten thing. You’d be better off dead.”
“Hm. I did die there. Oh relax,” she continued, waving her hand dismissively. “Obviously, I’m fine. I mean, I’m here now. I’m not some sort of ghoul.”
Crouching beside her, I pinched her chin. “Do you know where you’re going with this?”
“No. I’m just letting the good times roll. Trust the process.”
“Alright, darling. Whatever you wish.”
With a wink, she turned back to Paul. “Here’s what’s going to happen, dad. I’m going to judge everyone here based on what I already know about them. Some will live or maybe they won’t. In the end, it’s up to them. Not long ago, my mate decided he wanted to hang you all like Christmas ornaments from the trees.”
“It’s the perfect time of year,” I pointed out.
“It is, but you also said something else. Do you remember?”
“Of course. I told you that everyone in this town would kneel before you and renounce their false god.”
“And then I would feast on their hearts.”
I pulled out my phone, ready to record this beautiful moment. There was a message from Seraphim and when I opened it, that damn song started playing again. He snorted a laugh behind me, apparently far too confident in his ability to stay alive.
“A-are you going t-to eat our hearts?” Mallory, the woman with the baby, asked.
“No,” Sam replied, wrinkling her nose. “That’s disgusting. You’re either going to die by one of our hands or be given the chance to start your life anew, just like I did. It’s judgment day, dickwads, and you should all be fucking terrified.”
It was hilarious how many of these people would abandon their faith when given the choice between that and death. Many would probably go right back to it when we left, but they’d never be able to sleep soundly again. There would surely be a few that actually found their way out of this shit. Learning that creatures like us existed often fucked with a person’s belief system.
Even Sam’s mom had caved and bowed before us. The red hot rage evident on Paul’s face had been life changing. In the end, though, Sam snapped her neck when she turned to walk away. Apparently, forgiveness wasn’t sitting well with her.
Two of her three brothers acquiesced and she did actually let them go. Peter, the oldest sibling, had spit on her and he’d been turned into a popsicle. He was in a little pile off to the side, slowly melting into the wood floor.
I kicked my victim in the stomach hard enough to make her cough up blood. She’d been disrespectful to Sam and I decided she didn’t get a chance to redeem herself. She dropped to the ground and I thrust my knee upward, relishing the crunch of more than a few facial bones.
Every time she drew in a breath, she choked on the blood draining into her throat. When I flexed my fingers, she held up a shaky hand.
“Please. Enough. I’m sorry.”
“Are you?” I wondered, circling her slowly. When I came back to her front, I smiled with my fangs extended. “I think you’re just afraid of death now that he’s looking you in the face.”
“I was wrong. I-I’m sorry.”
“Pray for forgiveness.”
Swallowing hard, she clasped her hands. “Our father-”
Dropping my head back, I let out a heavy breath. “You’re exceptionally stupid.”
“I m-might be pregnant,” she rasped.
My lip curled as I looked her up and down. “If you think that matters to me in any way, you’re wrong. Maybe you should have said it before I kicked you in the stomach just now.”
She sobbed, dropping her hands to the floor. I felt someone’s eyes on me and turned to see Sam with her lips pursed. Shit. I had a feeling this was one of her lines.
“It has the brain activity of a slug early on,” I reasoned. “Enough to be considered legally dead.”
Sam didn’t appear convinced. Grabbing the woman’s throat, I hauled her off the floor. Keeping her still, I listened harder, trying to tune out all of the other sounds in the vicinity. To be extra certain, I brought her wrist to my mouth and tasted her blood.
“Congratulations,” I announced. “No slugs will be harmed today.”
I threw her to the floor and dropped down to straddle her. She screamed and thrashed, continuing her pointless prayers.
“You can make this painful or easy,” I told her, trailing my blade over her collarbone. “In this place, there are no gods but me and Samara. I can be merciful to those who will bow to us.”
“You’ll burn in hell for this.”
The corner of my mouth lifted. “I hoped you’d be difficult. It’s a good thing you won’t live to procreate.”
I forced the blade into her chest, between her breasts. She screamed and arched off the floor, which only pushed the knife further in. Using both hands, I dragged it down to her navel. Cutting through part of her small intestine, I grabbed the severed end and began wrapping it around my hand. Her eyes rolled back, the trauma making her lose consciousness before her heart had quite stopped.
From experience, I knew it was a pain in the ass to actually hang someone this way. It was slippery and making a noose was just more trouble than it was worth. Instead, I continued pulling it out, ending up with about ten feet of length.
It made me laugh when Christians put up Christmas trees, as if they hadn’t stolen the idea. After wrapping it in the festive, red garland, it looked more fitting to me. I beamed at Sam and she offered me a small smile, even though she didn’t appear as excited about it.
Now, we were down to the most important contenders. Joram and Paul. Neither of them were getting out of here alive, even if she did somehow have a change of heart, which I knew she wouldn’t.
These two were the turning point, her moment of divinity that would help her to solidify the fact that she was made up of raw power and nobody could challenge that. If it were me, I wouldn’t spare a single one of them, but this wasn’t my decision. It was her power and she had to claim it in her own way.
“Who wants to go first?” she asked cheerily, turning to the two men. Neither of them answered as she brought her thumb to her lips, sucking off the blood there. It was on her face, in her hair, and splattered around the room.
Seraphim seemed to be on board with this whole thing, but he didn’t join in on the fun. His sense of morality was hardly beyond ours, but he clearly didn’t enjoy drawing things out. Killing without ever taking the time to enjoy it sounded like a boring way to live.
Sensing my stare, he met my eyes. I stepped closer to him, raising a questioning brow.
“We shouldn’t linger here,” he said quietly.
“She’s almost finished.”
“We should leave tonight.”
“Why the rush?”
He watched Sam make a slice down Joram’s cheek. “What happened here is going to draw attention. Vas found me after I lost control and now that Sibon knows about her, she’ll be looking for signs.”
“Fine. We should just kill everyone else so there’s nobody to make a report. It’d take a while before anyone found out what happened.”
“It doesn’t matter. We just need to move. Since your ability to understand most normal emotions is not intact, I’ll tell you that we’ll be leaving with more than we came.”
It was an effort not to groan. “Her sister. She’s worried, but we can leave her with Joseph or her brothers.”
“That’s up to her, but she’s not who I’m talking about.”
“Then who?”
Turning toward me, he opened his hand, revealing a small pill on his palm. I took it between two fingers, my lip curling.
“I thought you couldn’t get them.”
“I have a few.”
“Are we powering up on drugged blood?”
“No, it’s not for the side effects.”
“I don’t understand. You think someone here could be like you.”
“Did you see the way she lost it when Joram punched Joseph?”
“Yeah, but he’s her friend and Sam isn’t exactly even-tempered.”
“Maybe. It could be more than that. Their connection when she lived here was deep and when we got here, she didn’t even need a moment to forgive him for ending their relationship. Which two abilities has she used the most since waking?”
“Fire and ice.”
“And which has been prominent since we got here.”
“Ice,” I realized. “You really think he’s part of this.”
“Yeah. I can’t feel a connection the way I do with Sam, but I can feel the way she’s drawn to him. It could just be kinship, but we need to know.”
“Then we give him the pill and if you’re right, he comes with us.”
“We’ll do it while we’re here. Once it wears off, we’ll leave. That way, if Sibon is able to determine where the signal is coming from, we’ll be gone before any of her people arrive.”
His words woke a question I’d wanted to ask for a while.
“How many does she have?”
He ran a hand through his hair, pulling the tie free and shaking it out. “Many vampires. My kind? Four, excluding me.”
“So, Vas and three others.”
“Yes. Vas is seven hundred years old. He’s seen many things and is knowledgeable, as you know. Davi has been around for five hundred years and his wife, Erla, is nearly that. I was the first in four hundred years that they found. After me, there was one more. Nia. She was turned in the ‘50s.”
“If she wants to use them to gain power, why does she keep them around?”
“Consuming their power is immediate and gives her longer life. By forming a Nexus with us, though, she can draw from us similarly to the way Sam can.”
“But I thought it was determined by your blood.”
“For a true Nexus, yes. One can agree to submit to one with more power than them. The connection isn’t as strong and you have much more control over your will. Regardless, it’s binding and there’s no cutting it out.”
He absently touched one of the horns as he spoke. I remembered what Sam said about there being something in Seraphim’s head. If there truly was no getting rid of it, I didn’t know where that left us.
The smell of blood grew overpowering and we both looked over at Sam. Seraphim made a surprised sound while I stared in awe at my blood-soaked goddess. She… Well, she was using Joram’s sliced throat as a soda dispenser, holding a glass underneath to catch the blood.
Paul was blubbering, trying to become one with the wall. He’d given up on conventions of bravery and was begging nonsensically. When the glass was half full, Sam pulled it away and looked at her father, cocking her head and giving off a vibe so much like my own, I felt proud as fuck.
“You know when you mix all the drinks from the soda fountain and call it a graveyard? This reminds me of that.”
I moved closer, leaning against the back of the couch so I could see her face.
“S-Samara, please,” Paul whined.
She bit her lip. “Please what? Please stop or please confess my sins and come back to the light?”
“You don’t have to do this. You’ve killed enough.”
“So, you think you should be spared like the others.”
“Yes.”
“What would you do to earn my mercy, dad?”
He opened his mouth, but a sob came out. Not only were tears streaming down his face, but he was also sweating profusely. His eyes darted to Rachel’s corpse, then Joram’s lifeless body. He was so thoroughly covered in blood, he was nearly unrecognizable.
“Anything, Samara. Y-you’re my baby girl. I know there’s still good in you.”
“Good,” she scoffed. “Yeah, I held onto that for a while. I’ve come to realize that there are tiers of goodness. The woman with the baby? I was never going to kill her. That’s just fucked up. In and of itself, morality is a weakness.”
Yup. I was fucking her right here when she was done. Seraphim would have to wait a damn minute.
“What matters,” she went on. “Is that I can live with myself. I’m not going to massacre a town all willy nilly. My fiancé will, but that’s what makes us so perfect together. Balance. It’s the thing that keeps everything exactly as it should be.”
“What do you want, Samara?” Paul asked.
“Beg for your life. Convince me.”
“Oh, god. I don’t… Please. I’ll do anything you want.”
“Is that what you call convincing?” She dragged the tip of her blade over the top button of his shirt, her expression becoming serious as her fangs descended. Her eyes lightened, the whites appearing to fracture and bleed into the brown. “Beg harder.”
Squeezing his eyes shut, he began to pray softly. “Our father, who art in heaven, hallowed be thy-”
He choked and spluttered when Sam’s knife sliced open his throat. She hummed as she held the glass to collect some of the blood. When she shifted, I saw two more she’d already filled.
Jumping to her feet, she smiled as she handed one to Seraphim, then to me. He looked a little trepidatious, but brought it to his lips.
“Wait!” she shouted.
When she disappeared, he shot me a look. “I think vampirism has officially broken your mate.”
Her red hair bobbed as she came back into the room.
“She’s fucking perfect,” I replied.
She held something out to me, making me wonder if I should take back that statement. Instead, I took the straw and dropped it into my cup. It was important to add that it was a pink bendy straw. Slurping sounds ensued and I decided it was best to simply follow along this time. Apparently, she was dead set on her idea of turning human blood into a sort of juice box.