PS01 - Tall, Dark & Lonely (16 page)

“Exactly what I said. If it turns out that it was Chris he will be headed off to Juvenile hall where he’ll probably stay for a year.

Not too bad. If it’s Mike, well since you are all over eighteen you are looking at prison.”

“That’s enough of that,” the lawyer snapped.

Ephraim’s calm façade didn’t change. “Your client is of age. I am explaining the possibility to him and his friends. The boys

were involved in her attack this morning. I won’t have a hard time joining the rape charge to the assault if it turns out that Mike

was the culprit.”

“She hasn’t talked and won’t talk so you have nothing,” Mike said.

Ephraim chuckled. “Is that what you think?”

“Yes.”

“She doesn’t have to talk. She’s fifteen years old. She isn’t old enough to consent to sex. If any semen is found, the owner of

that deposit will face rape charges.”

The boys looked back at Mike. He shook his head. Oh, the boy was a liar. Ephraim knew the boy raped her.

“How about it, gentlemen? Care to tell me anything or would you like to do a little time in prison.” He looked over the boys’

neat haircuts and fresh handsome faces and smiled. “You boys will brighten up the place. I bet you have five guys each the first

day offering you protection…for a price of course.” He winked.

“You said she had sex with you! You didn’t say anything about rape,” one of the boys said, jumping to his feet. The threat of a

gang rape was usually enough to scare young men into doing the right thing.

“Shut up, asshole,” Mike hissed.

“No.” The boy stood up. “No, I’m not going to jail because you’re a prick.” He looked at Ephraim. “He hit her this morning. I

can give you that much at least.”

“Go into the hall and give the officer a statement and thank you.” The boy nodded and rushed out. The rest of the boys got to

their feet and followed, leaving Mike and Chris.

“Madison, I want you to take Chris and go into the hall.” He stood up and walked around the desk as he pulled out his cuffs.

His eyes never left Mike.

“No, I’m staying. I want to see. That bastard has this coming.” Chris pulled away when Madison reached for him.

Enough was enough. He wanted Madison out of here. He looked at Chris, hoping a stern look would be enough. “Chris, I want

you to-“

“Chris!” Madison screamed.

Ephraim turned his head in time to see Mike rush Chris with a large buck knife. “You little shit! This is your fault!”

Madison jumped in front of a very stunned Chris and pushed him back. Chris grabbed Madison and shoved her out of the way.

Ephraim reached out and grabbed Mike by the collar and yanked him back. Mike twirled around surprised by the sudden jolt.

He collided into Ephraim. “Get her out of here now!” he yelled. Chris grabbed Madison and pulled her towards the door with

a very frantic Mason on their heels.

He had Mike on his stomach and cuffed in less than a minute, leaving his lawyer utterly stunned. “I…I…I…” the lawyer

rambled on.

“Good, very helpful thanks a lot,” Ephraim said sarcastically.

Mike tilted his head up and looked at Ephraim. “Oh shit….oh shit…I’m in so much trouble!”

Ephraim looked down at the black handle sticking out of his stomach. “Fuck,” he muttered. Just what he needed, a ride to the

hospital for stitches he didn’t need just to make sure that this prick didn’t get away with it.

It also meant he had to put on a show. He couldn’t walk around like it was nothing. It wasn’t. It hurt like a bitch. The little shit.

If the lawyer wasn’t in the room he would kill him.

Ephraim grabbed Mike by the arm. “Get up, asshole. You’re under arrest.” He dragged Mike to the door and pushed him off

onto another officer. Everyone’s eyes lowered to his stomach. He heard several gasps and a few “oh shits.”

He placed a hand over his stomach. “It’s fine. Just a little flesh wound,” he said though clenched teeth. At least he didn’t have

to pretend how much it hurt.

Madison’s eyes widened and then rolled back. “Somebody catch her,” he said. She fell against Chris who did his best to lower

her to the ground without hurting her. He would have caught her himself, but he was twenty feet away from her and people

probably would have noticed him flashing to her. Sometimes it sucked to play human.

Chapter 9

“Stop squirming!” Mrs. Buckman snapped.

“You would squirm too if you had a mad woman trying to shove a bed pan under your ass! I told you that I can walk to the

bathroom. I’m fine!”

Mrs. Buckman narrowed her eyes on him. “Fine.” She placed the offending bed pan under her arm, he didn’t want to know

where she got it, and headed for the door. “Just so you know, I know the doctor ordered you to stay in that bed for a week so

that’s exactly what you’ll be doing,” she threatened.

“Come on!” He threw his hands in the air.

“You heard me.”

“I can’t stay in bed for a week!” Ephraim said. The battle was lost and he knew it. Still he had to try.

She pointed at him. “You heard me.”

“Fine then, get the hell out of here and let me rest!”

She just pointed at him again before she left closing the door behind her. Her helpers were cowering in the hallway as they

should be. He’d been screaming at everyone for the past week. They were scared of him and for good reason.

One whole week without blood. No, correction, one whole week stuck in the hospital with a healthy supply of blood and no

way to get to it. It was pure hell, especially in his condition.

The little prick nicked both his heart and his lung with that knife. It would have been simple enough to handle. Three bags of

blood would have been enough. Unfortunately, the rape charges against Mike were tricky enough without any testimony and

they couldn’t press the battery charges since Carol still wasn’t talking. So, it fell on his shoulders to put the little prick away.

Attempted murder on a New Hampshire State Detective was no laughing matter. Mike was facing federal charges now. More

importantly it would be a long time before he used his fist on another woman. That was the only reason Ephraim played along.

He had to pretend to be knocked out by the medication the doctors injected into his body when in reality that medicine was

poison to him. Every single drop of medication had to be destroyed internally. The more they pumped in the weaker his blood

ran until his veins were filled with nothing but poison. He reached that state four days ago.

That operating room was just a clean version of Nichols’ torture chamber. He had to force himself to remain limp while the

poison burned his blood and the surgeons sliced him open. He felt every nick, every pull and prod. The pain was unreal. He

didn’t know what was worse though, the medication or the surgery.

His only hope was a transfusion. New blood would have diluted the poison in his system. When that cocky surgeon announced

that he wouldn’t require any transfusions because they'd stopped the bleeding he wanted to reach out and bitch slap him. He

couldn’t. He had to pretend to be out. He was in so much pain that he began sweating.

The doctors took that as a sign of an impending fever and pumped more poison into his system. It successfully paralyzed him.

Every movement set off fire in his body.

Blood, all he wanted was blood and no one would give it to him. He told them he was hungry and they brought him Jell-O and

broth. What the hell kind of meal was that? After the second tray they tried forcing on him he began throwing the trays at the

offending deliverer until they stopped bringing them.

So, for six days he was stuck in a hospital bed with no chance of escape. Tubes and monitors were stuck in him. On all four of

his escape attempts the damn things went off and people came running. He almost cried. He needed to eat and a variable buffet

came running in and he couldn’t have any of it. It was agony.

As was the first two days of visitors. Endless visitors came. People he didn’t even know came. They all wanted to see how

“their” hero was doing. After the first minute of each visit he “nodded off”. It was either that or let them see how hungry he

was. Finally he put his foot down and demanded to be left alone. Mrs. Buckman was not happy with that and told the nurses to

ignore his wishes.

For the last four days he had to put up with Mrs. Buckman and a few of the other renters. The children tried to come, but ran off

within the first thirty seconds when he started screaming. Screaming was good, screaming made him feel better.

Screaming was also the only thing that saved them. He was so hungry. He just needed a few pints to force the poison out and

heal his wounds. God, how they itched. His entire body itched. Six days of sponge baths. That was bullshit. How could they

call that a bath? He smelled like a hospital, itched and felt gross. He could feel the grime on his skin again.

Blood.

He needed blood. If he was stuck here for a week then he was out of luck. He hadn't been here to accept his blood deliveries.

Every two days at three in the morning blood was delivered by an unmarked van.

After two no shows they wouldn’t make another attempt to deliver until he contacted them with a new safe drop. He needed to

call them to setup new delivery. So, now he had no hopes of blood being delivered. He had to suffer another week. But that

wasn’t his greatest fear. If he didn’t keep everyone out of his room he was going to attack someone. The urge to feed was

overpowering everything else. His control was almost nonexistent.

It would only take Madison for the last thread of control to snap. Of course, she wasn’t likely to see him. She didn’t even try to

see him in the last week. She sent her apologies and flowers, but didn’t come. He tried to tell himself that was for the best. If

she came he would have begged her for some blood either hers or some stolen blood. At this point in his suffering he wouldn’t

beg. If she came into his room he was going to take.

His eyes drifted to the adjoining bathroom door. She could at least check and see how he was. That wasn’t too much to ask

after all he did take a wound for her. She probably didn’t think much of it. She knew he couldn't die, but did she realize that he

would still feel every ounce of pain and nothing in the world could take the edge off his pain but blood? He was suffering and

she couldn’t even bother to see him. He was pissed on top of already being pissed.

“Fuck her. I don’t want to see her anyway.” But he did. He really did. Never mind that it was her blood which he craved night

and day. He wanted to see her. He wanted to see her brown eyes light up when he annoyed her.

She was so cute when she'd attacked him with biscuits. He liked everything about her. She was funny, smart and kind. But she

was a human, a human whose blood screamed for him and him alone. He could never have her. She would never be his.

He wanted to kill someone. He needed to hurt someone. This was too much. There was a reason he didn’t allow attachments

and Madison proved him right. Once he was healed he was going to leave and start over. He couldn’t handle the pain and

disappointment.

“Wow, you stink.”

Ephraim forced his eyes open. “What?”

“I said you smell,” Madison said matter-of-factly.

Even before his brain registered who was in his room his body did. His fangs dropped as his arms shot out and grabbed her.

He dragged her down. He couldn’t fight it any longer. He was starving and his obsession was here. He didn’t even stop to

consider if they were alone or if he could stop in time. He needed her too damn much.

Some part of his brain registered that she wasn’t screaming. Actually, it felt like she was coming on her own. That was odd.

“Here you go, open up,” she said as she stuck something in his mouth. He froze, shocked at the sensation.

His eyes left her neck and moved down to the object in her hands. He chuckled weakly. She stuck a straw in a bag of blood. He

suckled, slowly savoring the taste of type O blood hitting his lips, his tongue, the roof of his mouth and finally down his throat.

He closed his eyes and moaned in relief.

“That good, huh?” she chuckled. He nodded but didn’t stop sucking. The straw was too slow. He took the bag away from her

with trembling hands. He pulled the straw out with his mouth and spit it across the room before slamming the bag to his teeth.

He chugged the red liquid down until he had every drop. “More.” It was a demand.

She laughed softly. “Here you go.” She sat patiently by his side while he finished ten bags of blood. He couldn’t help but notice

how adorable she looked in those cute little cotton shorts of hers. Finally he burped and sighed. He was done.

“Feeling better?” She ran her fingers through his greasy hair.

“Almost.” He jumped out of the bed with ease. All his strength was back and then some.

Madison gasped.

“What?” He looked down expecting to discover his dick was sticking out or something. Her eyes were glued to his chest. The

wound was now completely gone, dissolving the stitches as well.

He ran a hand over the area. “It itches like hell. I need a shower.”

“That’s putting it lightly,” she returned automatically. She looked dazed.

“Er, thank you for the blood.”

She shook her head. “You’re welcome. Just glad that I was able to intercept your deliveries.”

He paused. “You intercepted my blood?”

“Of course. I figured that you had to have blood delivered otherwise there would be an epidemic of neck bites. It was just a