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Breaking the code of the Immortals, Luka had converted them into Vampyres who had no minds or wills of their own anymore. They were subservient to his will alone.

And there was also Preacher and his followers, those who foolishly chose to align themselves with evil. Some were mislead by Preacher’s religious prophecies, others deluded by the alluring promise of power. They were a multitude of sycophants, idiots, and fools, all at the beck and call of one malevolent being—Luka cel Rau.

Suddenly, all those who were scampering about the main hall stilled and turned toward the high arched windows. The sky was dark, clouds obliterating the stars that were twinkling earlier. The air was filled with an ominous electrical charge; then like a burst of lightning, Luka leapt through the window to land in the center of the room.

He held his arms out at his sides, and his servants rushed in to surround him, fawning and gushing. A few of the Vampyresses tried to entice him to their beds. The bite of an Immortal was potent and intoxicating, like hundred-year-old cognac. Once bitten, there was an unconscious urge to seek out that pleasure, as all other sensations seemed pale by comparison.

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But a bite from one as ancient and powerful as Luka was more like an infection, a gnawing need never to be satiated, leaving the wounded an agreeable pawn, a perpetual victim to be used as nothing more than fodder and then discarded as refuse.

There was no love or beauty in Luka’s responses to the eternally beautiful females and males attempting to seduce him to see who he would favor this evening. Like all of Luka’s actions, it was nothing more than control, the sense of power in his domination over the weak. Sex was about his pleasure and his pleasure alone.

“Enough.” An authoritative voice echoed throughout the hall. The throng of Vampyres parted. There standing opposite Luka was the most beautiful of all his followers. She was a dark beauty, with long ebony hair and coal-black eyes. She was the quintessential Vampyress.

“Good evening, Terezia.”

She curtsied decorously. When she stood, she dismissed the others with a wave of her hand, and she approached him. Her hips swayed seductively as she crossed the room, her form-fitting black gown and long black hair a stark contrast to her white skin. Luka’s thoughts drifted to Richelle and how her skin reminded him of starlight, white hot and fiery, whereas Terezia’s left him as cold as a winter morning.

Standing before him, Terezia rested her hands upon his chest, eager to touch him. It had been so long since he had shared her bed. It tore at her, as she truly loved him. She leaned in and kissed his lips, parting hers slightly as an invitation for him to take control.

He did, not because he felt any desire to do so but because his very nature required he be in control.

She first saw him when she was a young girl. She saw him as he spoke with several Immortals trying to convince them to leave the mountains and join his ranks. She was enamored by Luka’s charming charisma and raw animal magnetism. He was a most magnificent specimen, with his golden hair and pale blue eyes, his muscular physique. Her mother dragged her away as he spoke against the Triad, warning her that Luka was an outcast amongst their people. Yet Terezia was undeterred. She knew she had met her life mate.

She would sneak away from her lessons to listen to him speak. She had seen him fight as other Immortals tried to drive him from the mountain. She

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swooned at his rippling biceps as he wielded his broadsword. His strength was unmatched, undefeated in battle save for his last battle…with Valya.

The Triad intervened, stopping the battle to bring Luka to trial.
The fools.

Luka escaped and left the mountains.

When she came of age, Luka had sought her out. Their lovemaking was wild and furious, not at all what she had expected. Steadfast to a lover’s daydreams, she believed he would claim her as his life mate. But he never did. And as time passed, his drive for sex became more bestial and hedonistic. Willingly, she offered her body to any self-indulgent, self-gratifying act. She became his slave, doing
anything
to please him and prove to him that she was his destined life mate.

Luka ended his kiss and placed his hands upon her shoulders. She did not shrink away when his hands did not embrace her, but rather grabbed her bodice and ripped it in two, baring her breasts. His hands were smooth, absent of calluses, as he stroked her perfectly formed orbs. Only for a moment did she flinch when his fingertips grazed over the fading scars that marred her bountiful globes, a permanent reminder of some of his baser demands.

He had tutored her well on how to meet
those
demands.

Terezia learned so well that she too had found gratification. She learned so well that she became a tutor for his other conquests, preparing them to spend an evening with him, with them. It had been a long time since he had come to her bed, but once his irrational obsession with this Richelle he sought had died, he would see and realize she was his true life mate.

Until then, she found solace in being a part of his world, in fulfilling
all
his needs. To feed…and to fuck.

“I brought you a gift,” she purred.

He found her nipples, pinching them roughly between his thumb and forefinger. “And what is that?”

“Come with me and I’ll show you.” She backed away from him,

dragging him with her until he released her nipples and she could turn to lead him to a closed door at the far end of the room.

“I knew you would be hungry when you returned,” she cooed. She placed her hand upon the brass door handle. “I prepared a feast for you.”

She opened the door and allowed him to enter the adjoining room. The room was dark, illuminated by three dim candles in a sconce on the wall.

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“I certainly hope you like what I prepared for dinner.” With a wave of her hand, four more candles lit up. They were positioned at each of the four corners of a heavy black table placed in the center of the room. Atop the table was a young girl, stripped, spread-eagled, and bound by chains. No more than eighteen, her blond hair cascaded around her head like a halo. Her tear-filled blue eyes grew large, pupils dilated in terror as he stepped closer and inhaled deeply. Her milky-white skin shimmered, framed by the dark wood.

A perfect sacrificial offering.

“Mmm,” he growled. He circled the table before stopping at the foot where he could get a good view of her naked cunt. Her body had been oiled and glistened in the flickering candlelight. While her pussy also gleamed, he did not smell the sticky-sweet cream from arousal. He smelled…fear. He liked that even better.

“She’s a virgin.”

His cock throbbed at the thrill of being the first to enjoy her nubile flesh.

Terezia sidled up beside him, placing her clasped hands on his shoulder so her arms draped over his as she leaned in to murmur in his ear. Her hot breath fanned the fire burning in his loins.

“Only the best for you, Luka my love.”

His body became hard as he watched the girl’s pert little breasts heave.

Recently pierced, the blood was still trickling from her teats. He grabbed hold of the gold ring on her right breast and pulled up on it. She screeched in pain, and his cock jerked at the sound. He hissed as he palmed his erection through his pants, squeezing to relieve the throbbing ache mounting.

“I am pleased.”

“I thought you might be.” Terezia sauntered to the head of the table and turned to face him. With a shimmer, the remnant of her dress disappeared, and she bent down closer to the young girl’s face, never taking her gaze from Luka.

“Let me introduce you, my dear.” She raked a fingernail down the girl’s cheek, leaving a thin white scratch in its wake. “This is Luka cel Rau, Lord and Master of Tower of the Red Dragon. It is at his command that you are here. He insists that you stay for dinner. And by that I mean

you…are…the…dinner.
”

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The girl began to wail, begging to be released as she struggled against the chains that held her, the cuffs biting into her unspoiled flesh. Terezia snickered, waving her hand to the left. A covered tray floated over from a built-in shelf and hovered at table height so that their quarry could see it from where she was helplessly bound.

“I was not sure of your tastes this evening, so I prepared this for you.”

She removed the cloth to reveal an array of sex toys and torture devices.

Luka gaped in excitement at the assortment. There were three different-sized anal plugs, a blindfold, a ball gag, a crop, and a cat-o’-nine-tails. Several of these instruments, depending on the person handling the tool, could administer pleasure…or pain. The girl turned her face away and cried.

Ah, the benefits of the modern world,
he thought as he picked up the crop and lightly traced circles around her trembling stomach, delighting in her revulsion and growing dread.

“Terezia, my dear. You thought of everything.”

Whimpering, the young girl squeezed her eyes shut as tears streamed down the sides of her face. She pulled and tugged trying to get her hands free. When that didn’t work, she began to beg to be set free.

Luka stood motionless as he stared down at her.

“Oh, no, my dear. We have the whole evening before us. This is not the end. It is merely the beginning.”

She wailed mournfully at his cruel words and made a final attempt to free herself from her bonds, the chains resisting every tug as blood poured from the gashes on her wrists, staining her hands red. Luka’s face became level with hers, his foul breath overwhelming her with the stench of evil.

Terezia waved her hand and the door behind them slammed shut with an audible click of a deadbolt.

Behind the locked door, a bloodcurdling scream rent the stillness of the night.

Then, silence.

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Valya groggily awoke from his deep slumber, awakened by the coolness of the morning and the lack of Richelle’s warmth. He rolled over and gathered her pillow in his arms, nestling it against him much as he had held Richelle all night as they slept. He inhaled. Her scent still clung to the pillow, the sheets, even his skin.

He cracked an eye toward the window and saw a seam of light.

Although his body registered that it was still too early in the day for him to rise, it also became an irresistible need to have Richelle sleeping beside him.

Dazedly, he lifted his head to scan the room, thinking she may have toddled off to the kitchen. After all, she was still human. Humans were used to being up and about in the daylight. It wouldn’t take long for Richelle to adjust after the conversion, but for right now, he would have to deal with her human idiosyncrasies and sleep with one eye open. Just to ensure her safety.

Not seeing her in the kitchen, he glanced over to the bathroom. The door was closed. Trying to rise, Valya simply fell back onto the bed.
Definitely
too early to be up.
He called mentally to her. No answer.

“Richelle?”
Again, no answer. Wiping the sleep from his eyes, he struggled to sit up, only to fall back and hit his head on the brass headboard.

“Richelle…where are you?”
The room was spinning as he tried to shake the dizzy feeling overtaking his senses. Sleep was beckoning to him. The sun was still out, and he hadn’t fully regained his power.

He was already weakened by not feeding. Virgin blood was potent, but not as powerful as a life mate’s blood. With Richelle as his life mate, there would be little need to hunt anymore, only in situations of extreme emergency, such as when his powers were all but diminished in battle. But she was not his life mate…yet. And he had been careful to not take too much of her rich nectar as it would make her a corpse’s shell driven only by the need for blood and sex.

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He needed to replenish his powers, to sleep and then feed so he was at his full strength. But Richelle…she was out there, alone. Unprotected.

Dragging himself to his feet, he managed a few steps before he collapsed in a heap on the floor. He turned over to stare at the ceiling, his eyes straining to focus as his vision began to blur around the edges.

Weakened, it was difficult for him to call out to any other Immortal for assistance. He prayed to Richelle’s Goddess to protect her and bring her safely back to his arms. So he could break her fool neck himself.

He made a last attempt to reach another Immortal for assistance.

Nothing. There was nothing but a painful ringing in his ears, drowning his swimming thoughts at his inability to protect his mate. Soon, night would fall. Then he would rise to find her, and render his retribution on any who dare hurt her.

Cursing his powerlessness against the noon sun and his inability to return to his bed, he succumbed to the welcoming sleep of the Immortals.

* * * *

Richelle walked slowly around the fairgrounds. She was unsure if it was the light of day or the fog surrounding her mind, but the carnival did not have the same allure for her as before. At night, the fairgrounds were alive with music and magic. But now, it was animated with the hustle and bustle of groups of people rushing from one place to the next.

When she first arrived and saw the number of people enjoying the carnival, she didn’t think she would be able to stay. She thought the noise from their thoughts would have driven her away. But surprisingly, there was very little noise, at least from their thoughts. There was plenty coming from those thoroughly enjoying themselves with the games and rides.

Yet, there was no mind-jarring pain from the intrusive thoughts she had grown accustomed to all her life. She picked up bits and pieces, but like a duck to water, she seemed to effortlessly be able to shield her mind from most stray and random thoughts from passersby with only a few comments making it beyond her automatic barriers. Like a reflex, those barriers popped up to protect her when she needed it most.