That night I ran away from home for the last time.
I had been doing it periodically ever since I hit puberty, so Mom and Phillip were used to it by then. I still got in trouble with one, or both, of them every time I did it, but they never did anything to stop me. Mom was always confused about why I did it, but she didn't go to any shrinks or anything like that to try to get them to analyze why I didn't just stay where I was safe, with her and Phillip. Phillip, of course, knew a good part of why I kept doing it, and that if he wanted to he could probably stop it.
That night I was with Mom and Phillip, as I usually was. When I was little I had spent just as much time with Dad as I did with Mom, but as I got older, he got lazier. By that night, Dad hadn't worked in almost two years. Edna worked, but the money she brought it was just barely enough to support the two of them. They couldn't afford to have me there as well very often, so Dad had lost most of his custody of me. Edna found this delightful, so she never really listened when he complained that he wanted to see his daughter just as much as Mom did.
That day I went to school just as I normally did. It was, as it almost always was, a sort of blah time that I mostly drifted through without really noticing anything. The only redeeming quality of school was that I didn't have to be around Phillip or Edna while I was there. That, of course, was more than reason enough for me to prolong being there, except that I usually didn't have enough of an excuse to stay after school for Phillip to accept it. And when I gave Phillip an excuse that he didn't accept things just got worse for me.
Phillip was waiting for me when I got back from school, just like he always was on days when he didn't have to travel, which was most of the time. The company he worked for didn't like making him travel, because they had to cater to his expensive whims. I knew that, even though I never quite managed to figure out what it was he did that made him so important to his company. I just knew that he was important enough that they had to spoil him and let him work the hours he wanted. He spent more time at home than he did at work, and he always made sure to be there when I got home from school, because he didn't have to try to hide what he did from Mom if she wasn't at home.
That day was no different than any other day. I walked through the doorway, eyes fixed on the smooth slabs of stone that made up the floor. I studied the rose and gray swirls rather than look up, since as long as I kept my eyes cast downward I wouldn't have to see Phillip's darkly smiling face. As long as I kept my eyes down I could still hope that he might not be there. It never worked, but at least I still had that little glimmer of hope.
The glimmer faded as I heard the sound of Phillip's silk robe sliding against the sofa as he stood up. Within moments a pair of familiar bare feet blocked my view of the floor. That was the point where I looked up, since I dreaded the blow I knew would come if I didn't do so. He was standing in front of me, a dark, horrible smile on that sunny face that Mom loved so much. It was a smile that Mom never saw, but that I was far too familiar with.
The robe that day was the black one with golden characters embroidered on it, the one that he only wore for "special" days. I couldn't think of what he might be celebrating that day, only that I would be the one to pay for his celebration that day. It didn't always happen that way, but I could see on his face that day that that was how it would be. The robe was his best one, and for good reason. The robe itself was beautiful, and the contrast of gold on black only brought out his own golden qualities. It set off his golden tinged skin and almost truly golden hair perfectly, making the bright qualities his face normally had even more pronounced. The robe was tied, as it always was, but only in the loosest sense of the word, with a bow-like knot that looked like it would come apart with a single breath, exposing Phillip, in all his masculine glory, to the whole world.
I tried not to meet the brilliant blue of his eyes as I walked by him. I tried to seem as casual as I could, as if I had barely noticed him. I knew it wouldn't work, but I also knew that I had to try, else I would lose another piece of my freedom. I had to try to ignore him every time, no matter how futile I knew it would be. As always, he did nothing but stop as I tried to pass him.
"Aren't you forgetting something?" he asked, his honeyed voice betraying none of the darkness that I knew better than anyone else was there.
Even so, the words sent a chill through me, just like they always did. I froze in place, unable to walk any farther, and my hands froze with me, just enough to make me drop my school bag. It fell to the floor with a thud and the clang of a metal buckle on stone, breaking the silence that rang after his words. For what seemed like an eternity I stood there as the silence felt like it was choking me.
"Well?" he asked.
I swallowed nervously, knowing that I had lost the battle again. "I'm home," I said.
"Welcome home," he replied, just a tiny hint of smugness creeping into his voice from the elation I couldn't help but imaging he was feeling at winning over me again. "How was your day?"
"Fine," I muttered. I bowed my head to stare at the floor again, and the waterfall of dark brown, almost black, silk that was my hair fell forward on either side of my face, almost like it was trying to shield me from him.
I barely saw him shake his head out of the corner of my eye. He made a noise in the back of his throat, one that clearly conveyed disappointment. Unbidden, a wave of shame threatened to drown me with that noise, and I felt the accompanying hot tears start to well in my eyes. Then, he reached up slightly to push hair back on the right side of my face and tuck it behind my ear, where it had been before it fell forward. I felt the barest caress of fingers against my cheek as his hand returned to his side.
"Surely your day was more than just "fine,"" he said.
"Not really," I said, so softly I could barely hear myself. I knew he could hear me just fine, though, since most of what was drowning out my own voice was the rush of blood that I knew was staining my pale cheeks pink, possibly even red.
"Now, now," he said with the mock sternness that the best loving mothers were masters at evoking. I had discovered that he was even better at it than they were. "You know I know better than that. "Fine" is your way of avoiding the subject, so tell me how your day went, Danny."
A spike of red, hot, energy pierced my mind. Before I could stop myself, I whipped my head around to glare at him. This brought the eye contact that I had so avoided earlier. I barely noticed it, especially not the barest hint of a gleam that lit up his eyes as I did it, because all I could see at the moment was the red haze coloring my vision. "Don't call me that!" I hissed angrily.
He smiled.
"So that is how you want to play it today," he murmured, reaching up to lay the palm of his right hand against my cheek. The place where his skin touched mine seemed to burn me inside, and the red haze brightened. I pulled back with a jerk, but he anticipated my move and stepped forward to follow me. He laughed at the scowl on my face, a low throaty sound. "I like you like this much better."
I had fallen right into his trap.
I should have realized that was what he was trying to do. He did it at least once a week, and every time I fell for it. He knew exactly which buttons to push to get the responses he wanted. He knew how to manipulate me, and no matter how firmly I resolved not to, I always got caught, and I always did exactly what he wanted and expected me to do.
He slid the hand on my cheek back, brushing past my ear to tangle in my loose hair and drag me forward. I knew better than to fight the lips that pressed against mine, the tongue that quested against my lips for entrance. My lips opened, and that tongue moved inward to triumph in his conquest, the same way it always did. He pressed forward, his body just as eager to claim its reward as his tongue was, and I felt the hardness that betrayed just how much he was enjoying himself. A wave of sickness washed over me, causing my knees to jelly with the dread I always felt when he started. I had to clutch at his shoulders and robe to keep from collapsing right then and there, which just caused him to wrap his arms around my waist and hold me up.
He knew just how much I hated what he was doing. I never told him; I never told anyone, but he still knew. He could see it in every single look I shot at him. He could see it in how I avoided him as much as I could when he wasn't pressing me. I tried to hide it, because if he could see it, so could Mom. But he could see it, and I knew it. Still, Mom never seemed to notice how much I hated him.
Because he knew my hatred so well, he laughed when I sagged against him. My weakness wasn't just from my fear. He knew my body, and he knew how to make the fires of lust that he was so familiar with start burning in my gut. He knew how to bring a woman pleasure; it was what he was best at, and he was damned proud of it. Just like he was proud of being able to make me collapse against him with just a kiss. It only made me hate him more.
He took his time that day. We lingered in the entryway for far longer than I felt comfortable doing, not that I was comfortable with any of it. Staying in the entryway while he kissed me and worked his hands up my skirt and in my blouse made me worry. Mom could come home at any time. She usually worked long hours, entertaining her boss, but every now and then she came home at a normal time, or early, to spend some quality time with Phillip. We didn't get any kind of advance warning when she did decide to come home early, so spending too much time in the entryway was always a stupid idea.
He did it to worry. I knew that, and I tried not to get worried every time it happened, but I couldn't. He just didn't care whether Mom found out or not. He was too good for her to decide to dump just because he was taking advantage of me right under her nose. She would probably think it was good for me to get some action and not even care that I hated it.
After it was over and he had forced me to pleasure him, as always without actually going into me, I tried to make my usual escape from his room, from the big bed with the silk sheets where I had lain with him so many times. He stopped me with a hand on my wrist that day, something that he never did, since he didn't particularly care whether I stayed to snuggle or ran away in fright and disgust. As I looked back at him he let go of my wrist and rose from the bed, completely unselfconscious of his nakedness, and shrugged the same black and gold robe back onto his shoulders.
"I have homework to do," I said flatly, just wanting to get out of that room before he decided to do more than what he had already done.
"Do you have anything going on after school tomorrow?" he asked as he tied the robe up, this time knotting it much more firmly than it had been earlier.
"Of course I do," I replied. "Play practice. I always have play practice on Tuesdays."
"Skip it."
"No." I glared at him. Acting was one of the few things that I did at school other than drift through the day. I had gotten a fairly major part in this latest play, and I wasn't about to just drop it because he wanted me to. After all, play practice was about the only excuse I had to stay away from him after school. He couldn't take that away from me.
"I'll give you a note for your teacher," he said, ignoring my flat refusal to comply with his plan. "You can miss one day."
"I don't want to."
"You don't have a choice," he said, his voice hardening more than a little. He leveled an angry stare at me.
"Why not?" I asked.
"Because I have plans," he replied. "Tomorrow is an important day. We are going out to dinner with your mother, so I need you home right away tomorrow afternoon for my own planned celebration." He sat down on the bed and leaned back, his black robe fading into the black silk sheets that were still on display to the world since he hadn't re-made the bed yet.
"What's so special about tomorrow?" I asked, which caused him to stare at me in disbelief. I stared back, feeling much more confident now that he had gotten what he wanted. I was afraid that he might decide to do more, but at least there was the hope that he might not, and that let me act like there was absolutely no possibility that he would.
"You seriously do not remember what tomorrow is?" he asked me. I nodded. "How about if I remind you that today is the anniversary of the first day your mother introduced me to you? What would that make tomorrow?"
He smiled at me brightly, without any hint of the darkness that he never showed Mom, and it reminded me of the day that Mom announced that she was getting married. I had known that she was going out with Phillip for a while before that, but I hadn't met him. Mom didn't like to remind her boyfriends that she had a daughter, especially a nine year old one, as I was at that time. But since she was getting married, she could introduce me to Phillip, and she did.
We went out to a nice dinner that night, Italian food at one of my favorite restaurants. I sat at the table and waiting while Mom went to greet Phillip and bring him in. He came in with her on his arm, smiling like a golden sun god. When he spotted me, the miniature dark version of Mom, waiting for them, his smile just brightened.
That night he was polite to me. He didn't do anything to me except charm me, the same way he had charmed Mom. He slept with her, and the mostly soundproofed rooms of Mom's bedroom kept most of the noise away from me, though I knew what they were doing anyway. Living with Mom, there was no way that I couldn't know what men and women did together in the bedroom at night.
He slept in Mom's room that night. The next morning I found out that he would be living with us from then on. He would get his own bedroom, but I knew he would spend most nights in Mom's bed, just like he had that first night.
That day after I met him was my tenth birthday. For a present, he let me give him a blow job. He made it seem like him doing me a grand favor, and even told me that he wouldn't let Mom do that. Of course, he did other things with Mom, but he still insisted on reminded me that very few women got the "honor" of sucking his cock. I hated it, but I was afraid of him by then. The smiling, shining sun god from the night before had shown me his other side, that he could be just as dark as a night with no moon, and I was terrified of him.
That bright smile reminded me. Ever since I met him, I had tried to forget when I would be turning a year older, since he always wanted to make a big deal out of it. He did more to me on my birthday than he would on any other day of the year, claiming that he was rewarding me for being a good girl and celebrating yet another year of us. I dreaded that day, so I tried not to remember it.
That year I would be turning sixteen, and I remembered then that he had promised me something "extra special" on my sixteenth birthday. I didn't want to find out what his "extra special" treat was, because I already had more than a little bit of an idea of what it would be. He had always refused to actually take me, claiming that he wasn't a pedophile and wouldn't screw a kid. I suspected that sixteen was old enough that I wasn't a kid to him anymore, so my "extra special" treat would be the one thing I dreaded more than anything else from him.
"Oh," I said, trying not to show just how scared I was of that idea. His smile widened, and then he leaned forward to give a playful slap to my butt before grinning and reminding me that I had to be home as soon as possible the next day. As soon as he got those words out of his mouth, I fled the room and went to huddle underneath the blankets on my own bed.
My bed was safe. He didn't like my bed, though I didn't know why. He had never even touched my bed, and I didn't think he was about to start. The darkness was safe, because as dark as his smile was, he was still a bright person, a golden sun god instead of a creature of the night. When under the blankets on my bed I could pretend that I had never met Phillip, that he couldn't just knock on my door, open it, and require my presence again. Under my blankets the rest of the world didn't exist.
But, even when I pretended that Phillip wasn't there, that he couldn't get to me, I knew deep down inside that he was. I knew with utter certainty that he could summon me back to his room if he was feeling horny again, and if Mom wasn't home he would. As safe as I felt under the blankets, it was all an illusion. The only way to be safe was to go somewhere where Phillip couldn't find me, somewhere where no one could find me, because no one knew who I was.
That was why I ran away occasionally, and why I ran away that night.
I was terrified of what Phillip was going to want from me that next day, on my birthday. I didn't want to think about it, but I knew that I wasn't going to be able to stop thinking about it until I was safe. Until I was properly hidden from him he would continue to plague my thoughts even more than he usually did. And more than that, I knew that if I didn't escape that night, it would be another victory for him, and another complete loss for me. He would see it as a sign that he could do more to me than he already did, and I would be that much less of a person to him from then on.
So I left. I waited until I heard him enter the bathroom attached to his room, until I heard the noise of his shower, as he washed the last of his sweat and other fluids off of his body. Then, making sure to be as quiet as I possibly could, I left the house. Mom still wasn't home, and the housekeeper was never there after I got home from school, by Phillip's request. No one was there to see me leave, and no one would realize I was gone until Mom returned. I doubted Phillip would seek me out again, since he would just have to take another shower if he did.
As soon as I was out of the house I ran. I made my way through the streets of the outwardly pristine little neighborhood where we lived at a flat out pace. I tried to ignore the few people who saw me and stared at the condition of my clothing, since I hadn't bothered to do much more than put it back on after I returned to my room. I knew my blouse was un-tucked and barely even buttoned up. I knew I was missing one sock and both shoes. I didn't care, because at least I was out of that house. If I had a choice about it, which I rarely had when I finally returned to the house, usually in police custody, I would never return there.
I ran until the clean streets got dirtier, until I reached a place I had always been told was a bad part of town. It was the kind of place where sleazy women stood on street corners calling out to the men who passed by, trying to use their bodies to make a few dollars so they would be able to eat the next day. It was the kind of place where a person might approach you to sell you a little powder that would take you to heaven. It was the kind of place where you were more likely to get mugged by a random stranger than left alone. It was also the kind of place where a good little girl like myself would never go, since I had always been afraid of it.
That night I wasn't afraid. Well, I was, but I was more afraid of Phillip. I believed that nothing the people of those streets would do to me could possibly be worse than what Phillip had planned. The worst thing I could imagine them doing was raping me, and that was precisely what Phillip already wanted. I wasn't afraid of being hurt, or even killed, not when I thought about Phillip.
I never thought someone would find me there. I didn't know anyone who frequented those streets; it wouldn't be proper for a good girl like me to know people like that. The people who knew me would think I would be too afraid to even go near the place. They would have been right, had Phillip not reminded me that the next day was my birthday. And because of that, I never expected to see someone I knew and have her spot me just at the same time.
Shelly was about the closest thing to a best friend that I had ever had. I had always been under the impression that she was just as much of a good little girl as I was. She certainly never acted like a bad girl at school. She always dressed impeccably, and never even tried to bend the uniform rules. She was half a step away from being a teacher's pet, without being unpopular because of it. But that day she was standing there in the middle of that neighborhood looking like she belonged there, with her hair disheveled, too much makeup, and the tightest, most revealing dress that I had ever seen on a girl my age.
"Danny!" she called out right as I spotted her, sounding shocked, but also happy to see me there. Before I could bolt, she ran over to me and took in the state of my clothing. She looked less than happy with what she saw. "What in the world happened to you? And what are you doing here?"
"Don't call me that!" I snapped, my instinctive reaction to being called that nickname that Phillip had given me. I hated it.
"Sorry," she said, and she actually looked sorry, so I believed her a smiled weakly.
"I ran away," I then said, answering her first question. "I had to get away. I couldn't stay there anymore. So I left, and I'm not going back this time!"
She stepped back a little at the sound of the barely suppressed fear and venom in my voice. She, like the rest of the people at school, knew nothing about my previous attempts to run away. Only the police, Mom, and Phillip knew about those, and that was the way Mom and Phillip wanted it. Having me run away, especially more than once, was embarrassing to them. Shelly didn't even know that I wasn't happy at home.
"What happened?" she asked carefully. She wanted me to talk about it, since she thought that talking could make anything better. She was probably right, but I didn't want to talk about it. I didn't even want to remember it, so I shook my head emphatically.
"I don't want to talk about it," I said firmly. She gave me a weak smile at that, but she didn't press the matter. Instead, she forced a bright smile onto her face and then nodded her head in the direction of a nearby club.
"Wanna forget about it?" she asked me, and I nodded almost hard that I thought my head would go flying off my shoulders. "Wanna go get drunk?"
"Aren't we too young?" I asked. She snorted.
"I know the owner," she said, smiling at me with a look on her face that said she knew she was getting away with something, and that she was loving every minute of it. "He knows me too, and he likes me. I get free drinks there all the time. Come on, you'll love it!"
I let her drag me into the club. The place was noisy and dark, but somehow bright at the same time. Even in my state of disarray with a private school's uniform on, I didn't look all that out of place there. I doubt anyone could have looked out of place there, unless possibly they were wearing black tie formal type clothing. Even naked would have fit in there, because I saw at least one person there who was naked. The sheer press of people, the number of different things I was seeing and hearing, was enough to make me speechless. I was in a daze until Shelly got me over to a slightly more secluded booth, where the amount of sensory input wasn't quite as overwhelming.
A few drinks later I was feeling more comfortable with the place. I still didn't feel good enough to go out on the floor and dance. Watching Shelly dance was more than enough for me. The gyrations and sensuality of the display were intimidating, but at the same time they sparked excitement within me, and turned the pleasant fuzziness of the alcohol into a sharp, longing burn. At the same time, it reminded me of Phillip, and I was frightened, so I stayed where I was in that booth and watched the dancing people, almost wishing that I was one of them.
Then, at a point where Shelly had completely forgotten about me for the moment, a woman stepped up to the booth where I sat. I looked up at her, took in her long, free-flowing platinum blonde hair and pale skin. Her short, slinky black dress accented the curves of a full, utterly feminine figure that I would have killed to have, if it wouldn't have also guaranteed Phillip's enhanced interested at the same time. She had a classic kind of beauty that would never go out of style, and I found that I couldn't take my eyes off of her, even though she frightened me as much as she fascinated me. And the most fascinating part of her was her eyes, even though I couldn't see them behind the dark sunglasses she wore. I wanted to see them, and as soon as my gaze met hers through those glasses, I found I couldn't look away.
"You do not belong here," she said, in a deep, melodious voice that sent chills up and down my spine. After hearing that voice of hers, I wanted nothing more than to hear more of it, and that frightened me more than anything else that night had, even Phillip. "But at the same time, you do. What brings you here?"
I didn't plan on answering her. I had no idea who she was, and even though I wanted desperately to hear more of her voice, I didn't trust her. But, even as I made my decision to just stay silent and hope she went away so I could stop being afraid of her, the words came tumbling out of my mouth. "My step-father wants to fuck me."
She just laughed, and the sound was even more wondrous than her speaking had been. Her laughter was warm, rich, and hinted at everything that what Phillip did to me should be, but wasn't. That laughter made the burning excitement in me grow hotter, and it made me want to run away at the same time. As she laughed, I saw her white teeth, somehow even paler than her white skin though I wouldn't have thought that possible if I hadn't seen it, and I momentarily I thought I noticed that her canines looked sharper than normal, though not by much. I thought nothing of it and instead tried to push down the swelling mixture of fear and longing that was rising through my body.
"Is that such a problem?"
"I don't want him to."
She just looked at me, without saying a word, for close to a minute. I couldn't tear my eyes away, and I had the feeling that if she were to make a noise of displeasure, as if I had disappointed her, that I would die right there and then. I hated the feeling, but that didn't mean it would go away. Finally, she slid into the booth next to me, though there was barely enough room for a child to sit, let alone full grown woman. Instead of only partially sitting on the seat, she pressed herself up against me and turned her head to stare at me again. The combination of her body against mine and her stare made me shiver.
"The things people do together in passion can be the most exquisite of pleasures," she said, still with her eyes focused on me. I was starting to feel like a piece of meat that she wanted to eat under that gaze of hers.
"Not with him."
"You should not be afraid of him just because he is male," she purred, her voice sounding, and almost feeling, like velvet to my ears. "Even the pain of a rough coupling can be pleasure. Return to him. Become a woman, rather than a frightened, weak little girl."
"I'd rather die."
As soon as I'd said it, I realized that it was true. I would take my life before I would let him take me that way, and that was the true reason I had decided to head to that neighborhood that night. I was afraid of taking my own life, but I was more afraid of Phillip. And because I was afraid, I had gone somewhere where someone else might do the job for me.
She smiled fully, again giving me a glimpse of those sharp canines. They looked longer and sharper than they had been before, and the second time I saw them I was frightened, as my mind supplied the word that hadn't come to mind the first time I noticed her teeth, mostly because I didn't believe in things like that. Vampire.
"I can help you with that," she said, still smiling. She raised one hand to touch my cheek in a soft, sensual caress, much the same way Phillip had not too long before that. Just that faint contact was enough to make me shiver again, and I saw her smirk just as she leaned forward to brush her lips against mine.
My mind gibbered in fear that I was making a mistake as she pulled away and stood up, taking my hand in hers and drawing me up from the seat to follow her. She was dangerous and frightening, and I knew that. She was also fascinating, and I couldn't take my eyes off of her, let alone pull my hand away and flee for the nearest exit. All I could do was try not to cry as she led me to a darkened back room and shut the door behind us.
Inside, she pushed me against a chair and kissed me again, this time invading me with her tongue the same way Phillip did. I did nothing to resist, not because I knew she would do it anyway, though I did know that, but because I could not bring myself to displease her. Instead, I reacted, letting her tease my tongue with her own, and even taking her invitation to quest forward into her mouth, only to feel my tongue brush up against the sharp fangs. Even the slightest touch was enough to cut my tongue and start the blood flowing.
That taste of blood made her suddenly more aggressive. With just that little taste, she tore her mouth away from mine and moved her hands downward to start unbuttoning my blouse. At the same time, she put her mouth to my neck, and I felt the prick of fangs piercing my skin. She started sucking, drawing the blood out from my body and feeding on it, and I felt every moment of it. It hurt more than anything else, but the pain felt good and fed the fire of longing that had started blazing the moment she touched her lips to mine.
I moaned softly, unable to even think about the fear any longer through the heat of the desire that was building up inside of me. She then detached her mouth from my neck and moved her head lower, to my now bare breast. Another prick of fangs and she was suckling at my breast, but drawing out blood instead of a mother's milk the way it had been designed. The fire inside of me continued to grow, and she moved to treat my other breast the same as the first one. By that point, I was hers. There was nothing that could make me disobey her, and I would surely die should I displease her.
She drew her mouth away from my breast then, and I squeaked in protest. I immediately stopped as she leveled a steady gaze on me, not one of anger or annoyance, but just a step removed from that. She smiled at my obedience, and then she caressed my cheek gently.
"The longing is strong in you, my pet," her voice said in my head, filling me with a sense of pleasure just as strong as her bite had been. She started to stroke my hair, the same way one would stroke a dog's fur, and I whined slightly at having the pleasure she had been giving me stopped. "I know, it hurts, the longing. Be patient. I will abate it for you, but first we must have a proper sacrifice. I have summoned one for you, and it will be here soon. Just be patient."
I wanted nothing more at that moment than for her to bite me again, to bring that painful pleasure back, but she didn't. Instead, she reached up to remove her dark glasses, to show me her red eyes that were the same color as the blood she had taken from me. She looked me straight in the eyes, and then she smiled again, just as the door opened behind her.
Shelly stood in the doorway, her eyes blank and unseeing. I saw her as the woman drew me up out of the chair and moved around behind me. I knew then that she was the sacrifice the woman had summoned, and deep within me, in the darkest corner of my mind where the woman hadn't quite been able to get, a voice cried that I shouldn't let the woman do what she was planning. That voice was too faint, though, so all I could do was stare at Shelly, whose eyes came alive as she saw me.
"Danny..." she said, and I felt that same spike of anger at that name. It was even enough to pierce through the fiery blanket of desire that lay over my mind, and it caused the woman behind me to laugh that rich laugh again.
"Do you like the present I got you, my pet? My Danielle? It doesn't seem to realize how much you hate what it called you, does it?"
I couldn't do anything, though that frightened little voice in the back of my head grew louder with every moment. The woman drew her hand down my side, causing me to shiver, and then she leaned her head in close to the back of my neck. I could feel her breath, warm, against me, and I could smell the sharp scent of my blood in the air as that breath washed around me. Then, without warning, I felt her fangs again, against the back of my neck.
It was different from the other times she had bitten me. I felt the fangs go in, and it hurt just as much as it had before, but the pleasure never came. Instead, the pain deepened, causing my body to stiffen as she began sucking. Besides just that, I could tell something else was different, even through the blanket she had put over my sense. The blood wasn't flowing as she sucked. Something else was, though, something that hurt as she drew it away from the innermost core of my being. Something that represented me, and that was never supposed to leave.
The little voice inside of me supplied the information I needed. That something that she was sucking out through the bite in my neck was my soul. And as she took it away from me, it was replaced by something else, a dark power that felt of blood and death. I could see myself reflected in Shelly's again dulled eyes as it happened, as the light within my eyes faded and they changed to red, as the fangs grew, and I was afraid.
And then it was done.
My mistress pulled her mouth away from me, and again her voice came into my head. "Your first meal is in front of you, my pet. Take her." Her voice felt richer than it had before. It was more vibrant, and more commanding. Her word was Law, and I couldn't have disobeyed it had I wanted to. Still, that tiny voice in the back of my head was afraid, though it sounded weaker than before and was fading rapidly. I could feel her smile inside my head as I moved forward on unsteady legs, towards my promised meal.
I saw the fear in Shelly's eyes as she again regained awareness of the world around her. I felt the fear, and it excited me, made me hungry. I felt the hunger grow inside me, and I felt my mistress's encouragement to let it go, to feed it. I couldn't possibly disobey her, so I crossed the rest of the room to the doorway where my meal stood. I could hear the frantic heartbeat of the creature in front of me, the rush as the precious elixir flowed through the veins that lay just underneath the tender skin that covered its body.
I didn't hear my former friend's scream as I grabbed her body roughly with newfound inhuman strength and bent back her head to expose her neck to me. I didn't hear her pleading with me to stop as I bent my head over her. All I could hear was my mistress laughing and encouraging me as I sunk my fangs into her flesh and truly fed for the first time in my life.