Servicing the Undead (8 page)

“Now you’re getting the idea, Hayden.” Matthew moved his
hips back, pulling his cock out to dangle it above Rachelle’s mouth. She licked
his massive shaft, her tongue looking small as she stroked the underside of his
rod, licking slowly and carefully as though tasting his entire dick was her the
ultimate pleasure.

Her
pleasure,
her
decision.

That’s what this was all about. What she’d wanted—following
the map, coming here in the first place.

She reached up and took Matthew’s rod in both hands, pulled
it to her mouth, so she could wrap her tongue more completely around it.

Hayden’s lip curled in disgust. For her. For himself.

“Something on your mind?” Matthew asked, setting his hands
on his hard hips and rocking back and forth, gliding his shaft across
Rachelle’s diligent mouth. The man’s gaze zeroed in on Hayden’s hard, erect
cock. “Because this isn’t the time for talking.”

Hayden was going to fuck Rachelle, and he was going to like
it. And Matthew knew it.

“There’s more where this came from, Hayden. I have enough
for you, enough to keep you fucking all night. Women, men, whatever you want,
however you want it.”

“Shut up.”

The other man’s response was a low laugh and Hayden clenched
his jaw against the sound, anger and frustration simmering through his veins.

Matthew reached down and forced his cock into Rachelle’s
mouth. She choked briefly but then widened her mouth to take him in. He rocked
into her, jerking his hips back and forth, driving himself deeper into her
mouth. “Do whatever you want,” he said. “She won’t remember this, not any
little second.”

Hayden watched Matthew fuck his girlfriend’s mouth,
mesmerized by the rhythm of the man’s body, swaying back and forth, rocking
into her while she licked and sucked. Scorching curls of anger and disgust rose
up inside him, turning and twisting, squeezing and silencing the last shreds of
his decency and giving space for the bleak fire of lust flickering higher and
higher.

“I can decide for you, if you want.”

Hayden stared down at Rachelle, his body stiff, tense and
simmering with a low rage he hadn’t known he possessed. The anger rose inside
him like steam, coming up slowly and then thickening, swirling, finding its own
way, its own path. The emotion bubbled through him, filling his veins with new
blood, fresh and wild. Even the air he pulled into his lungs was new, filled
with power.

Rachelle tried to focus on his face, to connect with his
eyes, but the effects of the tea were too great. She didn’t have the will, or
desire, to fight. She gave up and turned away, concentrating instead on
Matthew’s cock. Hayden ground his teeth, let out a hot breath. Her mind was not
there for him but her body was readily available.

“It’s a well-crafted tea,” Matthew said. “It dulls the mind
just enough to quell the conscience side, the annoying part that keeps people
from doing what they really want.”

Hayden looked up, his gaze connecting with the other man’s.
Unlike Rachelle’s, Matthew’s gaze was sharp and aware. Brewing behind the
awareness was an unbreakable omnipresent evil that was as repulsive as it was
compelling.

“If you ever wondered what she’s really like,” Matthew said,
“you know, the person under whatever careful side she always shows you, and
everyone else, wonder no more. Here’s the real girl under the mask.”

Matthew jerked his hips, sliding his dick in and out of
Rachelle’s willing, capable mouth. Her lips were rounded over his shaft,
diligently sucking.

“I seem to have forgotten my manners, Hayden,” Matthew said,
dropping his gaze to move it slowly over Rachelle’s naked body. “I’m going to
blame that on the fact that things have been fucked up around her lately. I
don’t think I’ve thanked you yet for bringing this one to us.”

“
I
brought her.”

Hayden had been so consumed with the sight before him and
the new, powerful rage simmering in his veins, he’d almost forgotten Mattie.

“Is that right, Hayden?” Matthew cocked an eyebrow but
didn’t look up. “My mistake. I thought she belonged to you.” Matthew shifted
forward and shoved his cock still deeper into Rachelle’s mouth. She gagged, a
slick trail of saliva rolled down from the corner of her mouth. Matthew tilted
her head back to adjust it better to his aggressive thrusts. Hayden watched, as
the other man’s enormous cock slid in and out of Rachelle’s gaping mouth.
Hayden’s own dick stiffened and lifted, increasing in size until it jutted
forward, hard and ready.

Hayden rolled forward, feeling the weight of the chain
across his back as he knelt between Rachelle’s legs. Even though her muscles
were still visible beneath her pale skin, her legs sagged. There was none of
the hungry urgency that had turned him on the night before. Now she was nothing
more than a willing vessel for his lust, a place to shove his cock.

“It’s what’s good for you, Hayden. Trust me, I know. Do it.”

Hayden’s own world hung on the fringes of his consciousness,
that place where right and wrong existed. But in this new world, it blurred
together. Hayden reeled back and soaked in the corruption of this new place.
Once the last of his consciousness faded into the wretched haze of his mind, he
placed his cock before Rachelle’s slick opening and impaled her. She bucked,
the movement of her hips acknowledging him, urging him to fuck her.

And he did.

He fell into the simmering anger, newly churning within him,
giving freedom to his emotions and his mind, and he drove into her. The chain
swung out from behind him, he grabbed it, but Matthew was quick. He’d grabbed
the end. It swayed between them, the metallic sound of the jerking links
filling the air. Hayden threw his body back, trying to break the other man’s
grip. Again, the other man was ready, tugging back. The sharp edge of the neck
ring cut into Hayden’s already deeply scratched flesh, a warm stream of blood
ran down his chest. The red line hit the hair of his lower abdomen, snaking a
path to where his body connected to Rachelle’s.

Matthew’s gaze followed the red trail gleaming down Hayden’s
chest. His mouth was open, and he continued to pull back on the chain, the
swing of his hips becoming sharper, wilder. His face contorted into a mask of
sexual tension and fierce pleasure. But there was no humanity in his eyes, only
bottomless carnal hunger. A shiver ran down Hayden’s back, setting off a ring of
release that started at the base of his cock. The rings of tension circled his
shaft and gripped his sac, squeezing harder, tighter, pulling on the last
threads of his humanity.

He didn’t choose to fall into the black bliss of his
release. The hooks of darkness came to him and pulled him in, guiding him into
the empty place of his soul where only he existed, him and his physical
desires. He clung there, on the edge of awareness, then tumbled in. The fall
was sweet torture, and he knew as he fell that he’d hit hard. And the scars
would be with him forever, marking the moment in time when he took the damage
and became a different man.

Across from him, Matthew was also on the verge of an
explosive release. The other man’s groans filled the air, the vibrations of the
sound creating a wave of shivers than ran across Hayden’s skin.

After the last spasm of his ejaculation, Hayden withdrew
quickly and then dropped back onto his heels. Already his memories of the
experience were haunting him. He swiped the trail of blood off his torso,
rubbing until it disappeared. His dick, finally completely limp, hung down,
glistening from Rachelle’s pussy. Rachelle had faded into complete
unconsciousness.

“Good work, Hayden.” Matthew was lovingly rubbing his
softened cock as he stood. The only change in his face was the absence of green
glimmer in his eyes. Other than that, the straight lines of his face remained
firm and unmoving.

Matthew pulled the cloak out from under Rachelle, and she
tumbled across the straw and then opened her eyes. He wrapped the coat around
himself and then braced his palms in the open cage doorway. “Got to get going
sooner than later, Mattie. Meeting in an hour. Be there. Alone.” He leaned
forward, stretching his sinewy shoulders and then came out.

Rachelle was still silent, barely conscious.

Mattie had put on her cloak and was waiting by the door.

The weight of the chain pulled on the neck ring. Hayden
lifted the links to release some of the pain.

The first bright rays of the morning sun came in through the
window, illuminating the dust rising up from the straw. Rachelle stirred,
moaning softly, then curled up, tucking her legs tightly to her chest.

How long would she be out?

How many hours would Hayden get before he had to perform
again?

“Come. Get your cloak.”

Hayden avoided looking at Rachelle as he exited the cage and
handed the chain to Mattie. She took it, he put his boots on, and then she led
him from the room, back down the hall, through the small room lit with square
lanterns and back through the front door. The two guards were still outside,
one on each side, but the third, who’d been pacing the yard, was gone.

Despite his weariness and disgust with himself for actions,
Hayden did his best to store details away in his memory. Since the creatures could
easily overpower him, information and an understanding of them, their
lifestyle, and their physical needs was the only way he was going to best them.

In the streaks of early morning sun, the camp was quiet.
Mattie’s tracks were small and close together, but Hayden stepped into them
anyway, using her footprints to guide him across the snow. They crossed through
the opening in the shrubs but went a different route than they’d come.

After rounding a corner, Hayden spotted soft gray rings of
smoke rising from a longhouse. The structure reminded him of the type of
building scout camps used for meals—longer than wide, probably with a huge
stone fireplace. Hayden trudged on, his feet rising and falling in the snow,
the faint scent of smoke filling his nostrils. No one was visible, but voices
floated on the wind.

Hayden stopped short, trying to catch anything that might be
useful to know, and was rewarded with a sharp tug on the chain. The metal
tugged on his skin, pinching his neck.

“What?” Mattie asked, holding the chain taut.

Hayden turned from the sound and pretended to look at the
yard. Fresh tracks ran in every direction, circling the longhouse and also, he
noticed, an extremely large tree. It was probably a maple, judging by the arch
of the branches and the overall shape. But it wasn’t the type of tree he was
most interested in, it was the trunk. It was scarred by a circle of tattered
bark about three feet from the base.

“What are you looking at?” she asked, pausing and loosening
her grip on the chain.

“I don’t know,” he replied, scanning his memory, trying to
recall what was triggering the interest in the tree. Then it came to him, the
tree used in the sex ritual he’d read about in the book written by the zombie
tracker. The same book he’d been copying on the photocopier when she’d come in
through the library window.

He continued to stare at the tree, tracing the trunk with
his gaze. The circle of torn and broken bark was fresh. “Did you bring me this
way to see if I’d notice the tree?”

She stayed silent, watching him. Her silence was his answer.
He asked another. “They do the rituals outside, even in the winter?”

Mattie pointed to the branches, some weighted with snow,
others blown bare by the wind. “They think the tree adds power, energy, to the
ritual.”

“
They?
” Hayden repeated the word, forcing her to
recognize that she hadn’t included herself with
them
. “You don’t think
that too?”

She turned her back on him and spoke over her shoulder. “I
could’ve brought you here last night instead. Is that what you wanted?”

She didn’t want the others to know how she felt. Good to
know. Hayden took one last look at the scarred tree. “This isn’t about what I
wanted. It hasn’t been ever since the start.”

She shoved aside the edge of her cloak, exposing her firm
thigh. A stream of melted snow ran down the inside of her leg and rolled down
the curve of her calf. The trail of moisture disappeared, and he looked up,
connecting with her gaze. She lifted an eyebrow. The memory of her perched on
the library table and him shoving his cock into her tight pussy exploded in his
mind.

But had he really wanted that? Really?

“Not everything’s about sex.”

Hayden laughed, a rough, dry bark. “Tell that to Matthew.”

She winced, stepped back, and tugged the chain.

He jogged forward to release the sharp tension on his neck.
“What’s going on with you two?”

“It wasn’t always like this. We were close, I guess, but
things changed. He changed.”

“What about Rachelle?”

“What about her?” Mattie quickened her pace, speeding up to
a jog and pulling him across the snow and toward her cabin.

* * * * *

The fire had burned down and the cabin was cold. After
locking the chain to the ring embedded in the bed, Mattie crossed to the
cabinet beside the wood stove. Her shoulders jerked as she pulled out two cans
of corned beef hash and set them on the table. She set the teakettle on the
corner of the stove and then stood with her back to him, arms crossed across
her chest. “Are you satisfied that Rachelle is okay?”

That was a ridiculous question. Rachelle was a long way from
being okay. So was he, but Hayden was quickly deciding not to be afraid of
Mattie. She needed him so she wasn’t going to kill him. He was willing to take
whatever punishment she had to dish out. As long as she didn’t pass him over to
Matthew. “That’s not why we went over there,” he said.

She spun on her heels and had to grab the edge of the table
to keep from falling, the telling green gaze in eyes flashing bright. “You see,
Hayden, that’s why I need you. You’re smart. You
think
.”

“Fine, I get it. I think. What is it you want me to think
about? It’s not Rachelle, I get that. It’s not Matthew, either.”

Still holding the table, she laughed, the sound sharp and
humorless. “So far, so good.”

She swayed, the green glimmer lingering in the depths of her
gaze. “How often do you need it?” he asked, leaning back on both hands. The fur
cloak, still wrapped around him, fell open. He ignored the chill in the air.

“It varies.” She leaned heavily on the table and stared at
him, the glimmer shining in her eyes, the morning sun coming in from the window
behind her streaking across her shoulders. “We don’t have any way to regulate.
It can be hours, minutes, sometimes days.”

“Come here, I’ll take care of it,” Hayden said, ready to
find a way to take advantage of her weakness.

She disregarded his offer, moving around the cabin uneasily
to start a fire in the wood stove, and then put the cans of hash in a pot and
set it on the stove. She set a bucket next to the bed and told him he could use
it when he needed it. She put extra blankets on the other side of the bed. She
kept moving around the cabin, tidying, arranging, but Hayden lost the desire to
watch. Her movements were automatic, practiced. She looked like a hotel
housekeeper who knew exactly how to arrange the room and always set it up
exactly the same way, no matter who the guest. For now, that was all he needed
to know. He was one of many and if he didn’t figure something out he too would
be dead or
around somewhere
like the others before him.

The room continued to brighten with morning light and the
wood caught quickly. The temperature in the room rose rapidly. Weariness found
Hayden, and his eyes grew heavy. Sleep would be a release, a relief from the
terror of his mind and the abuse of his body. He lay back and started to pull
the cloak over him, but Mattie stopped him as she climbed onto the bed and
straddled him.