Duella Book 3: The Witch and the Vampire Series (3 page)

Chapter Four

New Orleans
was sultry. The humidity was so oppressive, so gripping, that it slowed even the most exuberant tourist.
Bourbon Street
was virtually empty, where normally the crowd was dense and rowdy from dusk to sunrise. Thick, black clouds obscured the moon and stars, threatening rain.

Duella
shoved his hands into his pockets and strode down the sidewalk, alert to the businesses with their open doors onto the walkway and the loud music blaring from jukeboxes. The scent of cigarettes and liquor permeated the air as he approached one of the neighborhood bars. A quick glance inside revealed a scant gathering of drinkers at the bar.

He walked past a restaurant with outside dining and smelled the aromas of food, spicy, combining cultures, Italian and Chinese. He passed through the maze of tables and chairs—the few couples eating were more intent on downing icy drinks and complaining about the heat. He walked through the area, assessing the choices he had for his own dining pleasures. There were few singles milling about the streets. A single person was always easier to control than a couple—though he had, on occasion, resorted to biting one of the couple while placing the other in a paralyzing trance. And at times, he had drunk from both parties. On those particular times, he had found himself being particularly careful not to drain either body to any great extent.

He left the business area of the street while the music of a street band played a lively tune, no doubt trying to entice more people to overlook the heat and join in the party atmosphere.
New Orleans
was famous for exhausting parties and lavish parades. But the weather had no doubt, taken the frivolity from the tourists and locals alike. He walked into the shadows when the streetlights gave way to residential homes.

An odor assailed his senses. He paused. The scent of death clung to the humid air. He tipped his head in to the air, deciding which direction the graveyard laid. He knew of the burial grounds of the city, knew that the dead were entombed atop the ground due to the city being below sea level. He paused and considered his new knowledge for a moment. He clutched the amulet hanging around his neck. It was uncanny how the facts seemed to appear in his mind, then be revealed so innocently to him. It was as though he had lived in the time and learned of the facts as if he were mortal.

He felt the need to feed. He gazed overhead at the sky. Morning wasn’t far off. He had taken most of the night to travel to the city. He sighed, remembering his last encounter with
Drucella
. If only he could have ended her
existence with his rage attack
. His brows drew together as a thought
came
full bloom in his mind. What if she had followed him to
New Orleans
?

She had found him once, and tricked him again. She was devious and not to be underestimated in her quest to regain the amulet for herself. Still, it puzzled him as to how she had survived the flames Marcus cast her into. He swore her body was ashes on the stone hearth of her castle.

He pushed the thoughts aside, though he silently warned himself to be on guard against her in the future. She would stop at nothing. He remembered her threat to drive a stake through his heart. He turned his feet toward a narrow avenue winding through an older section of housing. He sensed there was a vacant house at the end of the lane. An expectant feeling rose inside him. Why would he know of any such house?

He hurried his steps, glancing about at the lighted windows of the houses he passed until at last, there were none remaining on the street. He saw it then, looming through the darkness, its pointed roof stabbing at the sky. He closed his eyes for a moment and sensed the former inhabitants of the dwelling.

Vampires.
His realization startled him. He jerked his eyes open and quickened his steps, reaching the metal gate that opened into the yard leading to the front door of the house. He gazed through the darkness, his keen eyesight traveling over the narrow porch and single door entrance to the house. He took hold of the gate and pushed it inward, listening to the squeak of its rusty hinge as it moved. He sensed the house had been vacant for some time.

But what of the undead creatures that once sought solace within its concealing walls?
He had existed in his vampire state long enough to know that vampires just didn’t pick up and leave an area on a whim. Once established in a location where they could exist without calling attention to themselves, they usually remained, on occasion for centuries. He stepped inside the gate and closed it behind him, listening to the hinge squeak once more. The grass was thick beneath his feet and brushed against his legs. He sensed the yard hadn’t been tended in some time. He sighed. He intended to make some changes—if he found the residence fitting to his needs.

His body reminded him that he hadn’t fed yet. He licked his dry lips. The thought of nourishment filled his mind. He stared at the old house for a moment, then transformed into a bat and took to the air, setting his course toward the downtown portion of the city.

Within minutes, he was stepping inside one of the bars lining
Bourbon Street
and picking out a victim. He walked to the bar and slid onto a stool beside a man who looked like he had consumed too much liquor. The man leaned heavily on the bar, his head propped atop one fist. He turned toward
Duella
when he sat down and blinked his eyes as though trying to focus his sight.
Duella
placed a hand on the man’s shoulder and immediately the man slid off the stool and left the bar with
Duella
. He walked him into the alley beside the bar and pushed him against the wall. Taking his blood was easy. He grasped his neck and tipped his head to one side, then drove his fangs into his vein.

His blood lust sated, he returned to the vacant house he had found across town. He set one big hand to the door and pushed it open, then strolled inside. Being able to see in the dark had its advantages. He clearly saw the coffin sitting against one wall and viewed the coverings on the windows to keep the sunlight at bay. Further inspection revealed secure locks on the doors and windows and a cellar lying beneath the structure that harbored mounds of fresh earth. He stood in the living room of the house and dragged the aroma of the soil into his lungs. He had almost forgotten the reassuring feeling the scent brought to his body.

A flood of memories surfaced to torment his mind. His homeland, the tranquility he had felt when he was there, the safety of familiar surroundings. He had friends, places to go, people to visit with. Then the horror began. He
fell
victim to a vampire as old as time itself. He was a master of manipulation—he sucked him into his lair without
Duella
ever surmising the danger for himself. When it was too late—when he had already been bitten three times—he found he couldn’t escape no matter how badly he wanted to. The curse was upon him. He was a vampire.

His chest heaved with remorse. He wiped one hand across his face, bringing reality to the fore. Memories served little purpose. He could neither undo his fate, nor change it in any way. He was doomed.

A noise grabbed his attention suddenly. He whirled round as it sounded again, this time drawing nearer. He rose into the air, hovered near the ceiling and waited, preparing himself for an uncertain encounter. The weathered boards of the porch squeaked as though someone had set foot on it. The door moved inward. A form appeared.

From his lofty position, he watched as a woman glided into the room, turned and closed the door. The locks clicked. She inched forward into the room,
then
paused, looking about. She raised her head and gazed upward at
Duella
. An uncommon feeling gripped his insides as uncertainty gave way to curiosity.

A she vampire.
He floated silently to the
floor,
his eyes pinned on the vampire.

She stared at him, unmoving.

He assessed her, smiled. She was thin and garbed in a long flowing dark dress that reached to her ankles. Her arms were covered, the collar of her dress reached high up on her neck. Her hair was dark, black perhaps, and hung down her back in disarray. Her eyes were luminous. Her cheeks flushed with the blush of new blood in her veins.

“You’ve invaded my home.”

“Then the coffin is yours?”

Her gaze traveled the length of him. “I dare say you are too big to fit in it.” She laughed softly.

Duella
was overcome with want to gather her in his arms and hold her. It had been so long since he had encountered a she vampire and then the one he accidentally came upon, had hissed her anger and tried to bite him. In the end, she had managed to lay his flesh open with her long talons. This she vampire, however, didn’t seem to be of a mind to lash out at him. The sight of her was refreshing and her mannerisms made him smile. “Forgive me for forgetting my manners.” He bowed slightly in her direction. “My name is
Duella
.”

She smiled at him. “Miriam Collins. This was my family’s house. I live here alone now.” She studied him, taking a step closer. “You’re the first male vampire to venture inside these walls.”

His brows rose upward. “Are there other she vampires in the area?”

She shook her head. “Once there was. But the citizens hunted them down and killed them—drove wooden stakes through their hearts, then threw their carcasses into the fire.”

Her tone held pity for those of her kind. She hung her head and stared at the floor, as though reliving the tragedies one by one.
Duella
sensed her sorrow and, though he wished he could relieve her of the distress, saw no way to accomplish the feat.

“You are welcome to stay,
Duella
. This house is a safe haven. The townspeople never venture beyond the lane.”

She spoke the words he needed desperately to hear. He relaxed for the first time since arriving in the city. He stepped closer to her and peered down at her. “Tell me about yourself, Miriam. How long has the curse been with you?”

She sighed. “Only a hundred years. I foolishly trusted a man I thought loved me, but in the end he merely wanted to feed upon me, drink my blood, turn me into this immortal creature, then leave me.”

Duella
felt her regret, mingled with sorrow and rage at her own stupidity. He, too, had similar regrets and anger at himself where
Drucella
was concerned. He had thought she loved him, but in the end, she merely used him to spite his older brother.

“I, too, was deceived by another.” He reached out and took her hand, then drew her into his arms. Her coldness melded with his instantly, bringing a measure of reassurance to his mind. At last he had found someone who he could talk to, identify with, perhaps become friends with.

Chapter Five

Many years have passed since I kept company with a man.” She pressed one palm against
Duella’s
chest. “I spend my time searching for victims that won’t fight me when I try to drink their blood.” She pulled her hand back and lowered her eyes. “I must seem very strange to you.”

Duella
shook his head. “I, too, have only the thought of feeding on my mind. The curse of vampirism makes it difficult to think of other things.”

“When my family was alive, they tried to shield me from the horrors that others thought about vampires. But one night, an angry group of townspeople came to the house and demanded they turn me over to them. My parents refused and shortly afterward, they sent me away.”

He listened to her plight and felt her sorrow. He reached for her hand and held it in his, stroking its back with his thumb. Her fingers were very long and tipped in sharp nails. He pushed aside the notion that she could rend his flesh at a moment’s notice. She didn’t seem at all the type to surprise him with such an action—though they were strangers in every sense, except for sharing the horrible curse of vampirism.

“I spent many years in
Europe
, never settling in one place for very long for fear that I would be discovered. When I finally gained the courage to return to
New Orleans
, I found all my family had perished and the property in ruin. I had nowhere else to go, so I took up residence here. I have been safe to this day.” She turned inquiring eyes on him. “How did you find the house,
Duella
?”

“I sensed it, smelled the death within its walls.” He began telling her about his journey to the city and his hope to establish himself in some manner, to live among the people without their knowledge of whom—what—he was.

She shook her head. “It will be very difficult to do as you plan, my friend. Being a vampire has many disadvantages.”

He nodded his head. He was all too familiar with the restrictions wrought on him in his undead state. He raised one hand and grasped the amulet hanging around his neck. For an instant, he almost confided in her about its unusual properties,
then
changed his mind, releasing the stone to slide against his chest. The memory of
Drucella
and the attack he had mounted against her just last night surfaced to haunt his mind. He combed one hand through his hair.

“You are troubled.” She peered up at him, returning her hand to press against his chest. “I sense your distress.”

“It is nothing for you to be alarmed about.” He regretted saying those words the moment they left his mouth. He couldn’t be certain that his taking up residence with her wouldn’t bring
Drucella
hunting her as well. He grimaced and considered telling her about the witch, but a noise beyond the door captured his attention. He pulled Miriam across the
room,
rising into the air for safety should someone come through the door unannounced.

“There’s no need for worry,” she whispered. “The wind howls as though the living is coming to visit.” She glided softly to the floor and passed to the door. Releasing the locks, she pulled it back on its hinges. “See. There is no one.”

Duella
released a long sigh and lowered himself to the floor of the room. He joined her at the open door, standing beside her so he could look out into the darkness. The yard was eerily quiet, as though awaiting life to return to the old house. A tall tree at the edge of the property swayed aimlessly as a soft breeze whispered through its top branches. A myriad of dusky gray shadows wafted across the overgrown lawn and lingered on the sagging porch steps.

He turned from the depressing sight. Death surrounded him at every turn. From the dying lawn, overgrown and starved for water, to the walking dead that inhabited the same room as he. He craved life and the knowledge that it was not within his grasp, served only to add to his depressed feelings.

“It will be light soon.”

He turned to find Miriam had followed him into the room. He sensed her unease at his presence. He reached out one hand and touched her cheek with one fingertip. “Please don’t fear me. I need only a place to sleep until dusk, then if you want me to leave, I’ll be on my way.”

She caught his hand and pressed it to her cheek. “Forgive me. I’ve forgotten how to act around a man. It’s been so long—”

She pressed her body against his and raised her arms to clasp about his neck. He circled her slim waist with his arms, drawing her closer. Her breasts pressed against his chest, the action turning his thoughts to those of a sexual nature. He gazed down into her upturned face, smiling slightly.

“I don’t want you to leave.” She slid her hand up to the back of his head and urged his head down. “I want you to stay with me forever.” She rose up on tiptoe and pressed her lips to his.

He tightened his arms around her body, groaning deep in his throat as his lips melded with hers. Her mouth held the coolness of the undead, but the action of kissing warmed his senses immediately. He deepened the kiss, taking command of her body as he lifted her into his arms. He glided across the room on silent feet and traversed the narrow staircase leading to the lower cellar. The perfume of rich loam filled his nostrils as he searched out the mounds of earth and placed Miriam down.

She sighed and stretched out on the earthly bed, looking up at him as he shrugged out of his tunic and released the waistband of his pants. He stood naked before her, his cock growing hard with expectancy. She raised her hands to the neck of her dress and released the pearl buttons. Pushing the garment off her shoulders, she rose slightly and pulled the dress over her head, baring her body to his hungry eyes.

The urge to take her body filled his mind. He pushed all else aside and stretched out atop her, parting her thighs with one knee. He brushed his hands along her sides, making her release a shivering moan. His hand found her crotch and stroked her pussy. She gasped and arched against his chest.

“It’s been ages…since a man…touched me.” She clutched at his hand with her own, pressing his fingers into her womanly creases. “It feels so good,
Duella
. It feels so right.”

He lowered his head and kissed her, brushing his lips softly across hers. Despite her undead state, she was very desirable. Her breasts were large and round, topped with pert nipples that jutted enticingly toward the ceiling of the old chamber. He dipped his head and sucked one bud into this mouth while he stroked her sensitive tissues.

“I could get used to this.” Her voice was a soft whisper.

I could get used to this, too.
He banished the thought. His presence with her would only bring danger to her. He gazed down at her. Her eyes were open. She was staring right at him. A shiver of lust shot through his big body. The look in her eyes was unabashedly sensual, intriguing him with her mystery.

She urged his head down so she could kiss him again, poking her tongue between his lips as she traced her hand along his chest. She found his hard cock and wrapped her fingers around its girth. She squeezed her fist, worked her hand along its hot length, bringing a gasp of delight from
Duella’s
throat.

He mounted her body, giving in to the urge to enter her cavity. He lunged inside in one quick thrust and began moving, pushing in deeper with every thrust of his cock. Miriam grasped his buttocks and dug her long nails into his muscled flesh, holding him tightly against her crotch.

“You fill me up.” She sucked in a quick breath. “I’m coming all ready. It’s been such a long time!” A soft moan left her throat. “Fuck me hard,
Duella
. Claim me forevermore.”

He held her tightly and increased his thrusting, bringing himself to the brink of orgasm as she writhed beneath him with her own climax. He gazed down into her face as she savored the sensations he was bringing to her body, his own orgasm rapidly gaining momentum. He squeezed his eyes closed, shutting out all else except the exquisite sensations overtaking his body.

A torrent of electrifying feelings shot through his limbs, knotted the muscles in his buttocks and made him release a guttural moan that echoed around their gyrating bodies.

Sated, and breathless,
Duella
collapsed atop Miriam. The sounds of their panting breaths filled the dark cellar. He concentrated on the sounds, melding together as though they were one. The cool body beneath his had given him great pleasure. He still felt the waning sensations of climax within his muscles, his nerve endings. The sensations were sweet. He smiled, his face pushed into the crook created by Miriam’s neck and shoulder.

Her hands moved on his bare back, caressing, sliding lower and working their way back up to tangle in his long hair. She pressed him closer, arching against his body as though wanting to become part of him. A soft sigh came to his ears. He raised his head and gazed down at her. A tear shimmered in the corner of her left eye. Puzzlement assailed his mind. Vampires didn’t cry—or at least he had never seen one that gave in to the urge.

Perhaps Miriam is different from the others.
He watched as the tear slid across her cheek and disappeared from sight. He raised one hand and wiped at the moisture with the ball of his thumb. For an instant, he felt almost human—almost. Remorse wafted through his insides. There was little use pretending. He was of the undead.
And so is Miriam.