They returned to the farm as the gentle morning light began to grow to the harsh rays of noonday sun. His battle with the Count had left D in a weakened state, and the gathering heat of the day was slowly taking its toll on him. Despite that, neither Doris nor Dan had any idea of D’s affliction.
Doris rode in front of D upon the cyborg horse, while her little brother walked along next to the horse’s flank. Doris was experiencing both shock and awe at the defeat of Count Lee. With the weight of his power gone, she felt lighter in spirit than she had since well before the attack. Even so, her energy was so drained that she could do little more than balance upon the horse’s back in a slight stupor. Dan, likewise, was overjoyed that his sister was safe, and that all three of them had survived to the end of this ordeal. However, despite his joy, his young body was exhausted and wanted little more than to hold his sister and fall asleep secure in her arms.
They entered the gate of the house, where D dismounted before helping Doris to the ground. Without a word, he began to lead the horse toward the stable to tether it for the day.
“Oh, D,” Doris murmured, “let Dan do that! You must need rest after all of this.”
Dan immediately piped up, “Yeah, onisan, let me!” Without another word the boy, gaining an energy spurt from nowhere, grabbed the reigns out of D’s hand and continued leading the horse away. D watched the boy for several seconds before turning toward Doris, who gazed at him with conflicting emotions in her eyes.
After a moment, she snapped out of her daze, saying, “Come inside.” She walked forward and into the house, D following close behind her.
Doris paused in the middle of the living room, shoulders slumped in the white wedding gown that Lee had dressed her in. As D stepped closer, she whirled around crying his name. He tensed as her body collided with his, aggravating the wounds he had sustained from the previous night, but he yielded to her nonetheless. His name continued to spill from her lips, her emotional confusion weighting the air all around them. He understood her reaction quite well. It wasn’t the first time he had seen the victim of a vampire break down with both joy and grief when the attacker was defeated, as the vampire’s spell would normally take two to three days to wear completely away. After several minutes, he spoke.
“Doris,” he said, placing his hands gently on her shoulders and pushing her back until he could see her face, “you need rest.” She looked at him with glassy eyes and nodded her head. He began to push her toward her room with his hand at the small of her back. After two steps, she turned again, grasping at his arm.
“D! D, promise me you won’t leave while I’m asleep! Promise me!” Her eyes were wide with panic. He nodded to her.
“I need recuperation myself, and would appreciate your hospitality for another night.”
“D,” she mumbled, but he didn’t wait to hear her. He guided her to her room and sat her onto the end of her bed.
“I will send Dan in to help you undress. You are very weak right now.”
She nodded in response and watched him leave the room with the same confused, glassy expression.
D entered the back room that Doris had originally offered him and closed the door. The blinds and curtains of the small window in the room were already pulled tightly shut, and D leaned against the door, breathing in the cooler air of the closed-off room. Still, the exposure to the morning sun on his weakened body had his blood heated, and his wounds refused to heal completely.
A snide laugh was heard in the vicinity of his left hip as the symbiote made itself known for the first time since the previous night. “That was a close one, wasn’t it? Two wounds to the heart in one night. I think your age is catching up to you.”
D moved toward the bed in the room, removing his hat and placing it on the knob at the foot of the bed. He pulled at the buckles holding his armor in place and, bit by bit, disrobed, feeling the weight leave his chest and his breathing ease ever so slightly. Free of his armor, he finally pulled his shirt off, and was able to examine the injuries he’d sustained in the last twenty-four hours.
The wound over his heart that Rei Ginsei had delivered was healed other than being extremely tender and colored a dark reddish-purple. Likewise, the puncture from the tip of his own sword was closed, though the skin around the wound was even darker than the remaining bruise from the other wound. The other scrapes and bruises he had endured stood out on his pale skin. Normally, they would have healed in seconds, but he was already weak from the severe wounds near his heart, and one hundred percent of his body’s remaining energy was focused on recovering from them first.
“You know, this charity bit is going a little far, don’t you think? I mean, sure the girl’s got a sweet little ass on her, and great tits—”
“Hey, come on, man, I saved your ass last night. Where’s the love? But seriously, D, you’re pretty fucked up right now. I mean, all this crap should have been healed an hour after you butchered that guy.”
He sat down onto the bed and slipped out of his boots before reclining back onto the stiff mattress, which, in his exhaustion, felt feather-soft.
“You know, if I had my way about it, I would haul your hypocritical ass up there and make you take that girl’s blood. It’s the best thing you can do in your condition right now—”
“I told you to shut up!”
“You know she wants it!”
D’s lashed out, grabbing the knife from his traveling belt before tearing the glove from his left hand, staring the symbiote in its empty eyes. He drew the tip of the blade close to the tumor’s face.
“I swear,” he growled, “although my body can’t take me severing you from my body at this moment, if you do not silence yourself this instant, I will carve that tongue from your damnable mouth.”
“Sheesh,” the symbiote muttered, not able to hide the shock in it’s wrinkled face, “point taken, okay?” With that, the tumor’s face shrank back under the flesh of D’s hand. D pulled the glove back over his left hand, falling back onto the mattress, a noticeable increase in tension about his neck and shoulders.
The symbiote was slightly correct in its reasoning. Only one of two things could help him in this situation. Either taking the blood of a human to replenish his vampiric healing abilities, or the sleep of the dead. Ideally, both would be the best, but of course, D would never even consider the first. D’s eyes became increasingly heavy as the sleep came over him, his breathing becoming shallow.
The sleep of the dead. Dhampirs, unlike their vampire counterparts, were generally immune to it unless extremely weak from injury or sickness. It was the complete and utter loss of consciousness that overcame full vampires during the daylight hours, the sleep that was generally impossible to wake from, save from the shock of bodily injury.
D could feel the heat dissipating from his body as his breathing slowed. He let his eyes slide shut. He could hear Doris and Dan speaking in her room, the murmuring sounds lulling him, and, then, there was nothing.
Both Doris and Dan slept in her room until late in the afternoon. Dan went to make her some dinner and to see what D was doing. He went back to the spare room and knocked on the door. Hearing no answer, Dan cracked the door and peered into the room.
“Onisan?” Dan whispered through the crack, “D-onisan, are you hungry?” Dan could barely see anything in the dark room. He finally discerned D’s prone figure on the spare bed. Dan closed the door and busied himself in the kitchen, throwing a sandwich together for his sister before returning to her room.
“Here you go Onesan!” He said cheerfully, handing her the sandwich on a plate, along with a glass of water.
“Thank you,” she said, taking the sandwich. “Did you see D?”
“Yeah. He is asleep in the spare room. He’s really out of it, he didn’t even move when I said his name.”
Doris nodded, replying, “He’s been through a lot for us.” And for little in return, she added to herself.
“Is he going to stay with us, Onesan? It would be so cool if you two got married, don’t you think?” Dan said, sounding more and more like an eight-year-old boy lacking a role model by the second.
“Dan—I . . .”
“Well, it would, wouldn’t it? He’s got to be the coolest guy who’s come through this town ever, and it’s obvious that you have the hots for him. . .”
He laughed the carefree laugh of a child, truly amazing, considering what had transpired since yesterday.
“Well, I’m going to ask him when he gets up!” Dan said happily. “I’m going to go take care of the chores for now. You stay in bed and get your strength back!” Dan bounced toward the door. “Rest easy, Onesan, and you’d better eat all of that sandwich! Bye.” And he was out the door before she could get another word in edgewise.
After he was gone, Doris ate a little over half of the sandwich and fell back onto the pillows. She rolled onto her side and let her fingers trace over her neck where the bite marks had been. She hadn’t realized it right away, but they had healed within seconds of Count Lee’s death. She grabbed one of the extra pillows and pulled it down, hugging it to her body. She buried her face into it and thought about all that had happened since the initial attack. It hit her that it had been little over a week since it had all started, and, even though she could hardly believe it when she thought about it, D had only been part of her life for a few days. And I’ll be lucky if he stays a part of it for even another night, she told herself. She would have liked for all the things Dan mentioned to come true. She truly wanted D to remain with them, and—
That was all foolishness. She knew how hunters worked. After all, she had been raised by one. They came in, were paid half of their fee up front, did only their hired job, and, upon completion, collected the rest of their earnings and were on their way. Even so, D was not the conventional hunter. He didn’t have to defend her in town when the mayor and the sheriff wanted to haul her off to asylum. Granted, there was no physical fighting involved, but he still didn’t have to do it. He had also saved Dan from Rei Ginsei . . . and there was the way he interacted with Dan overall, like a patient big brother. Maybe . . . Maybe he would agree to stay with them?
“Stop it, Doris,” she chastised herself. D is a hunter first and foremost. Do you think you’re the first nitwit to fall in love with him after he saved you? This probably happens all the time. He will just finish this job up like any other. She thought then upon the terms of their deal. All she had offered for his troubles were three meals a day—which he didn’t even eat, and . . . Well, either way, it appeared that D had taken this job on practically for free.
Doris tried to remember the events of the final battle. It was all a blur to her. She had been under Lee’s control as soon as she was inside the castle walls the second time. She could recall voices, although not what they were saying. It was as if the sounds were coming through gallons and gallons of water. She thought she remembered D’s voice shouting, but she wasn’t sure. The only thing she clearly remembered was Lee’s voice inside her head: Take the knife. Kill the dhampir. Kill him. Doris whimpered and put her hands over her ears, curling further into her pillow, not that either of those things helped drown out the memory of a voice.
She knew that she had done exactly as the voice had told her. She had a blurred vision of D’s crumpled form in her mind’s eye, of her own hand, armed with D’s knife, raised above her head. And then there was Dan’s voice screaming, “No, Onesan, stop!” The next thing she remembered was seeing Dan standing over her and hearing the Count’s daughter speaking in the distance.
“Hurry, Onesan, get up! D’s done it, but we gotta get out of here, the castle’s coming down.” He helped her up, she was very unsteady. Then, she had looked up to see Count Lee pinned against the wall by D’s sword below a great oil painting.
“D’s sword!” Doris gasped, sitting straight up in her bed, “D’s sword was destroyed in the battle!” She suddenly felt even worse about her inability to pay D what was really owed to him. A katana of that quality probably cost at least a third, if not more, of a vampire hunter’s normal fee. She groaned and fell back on her pillows a second time. She still felt exhausted. She rolled back onto her side and fell back to sleep, her new worries causing her to have fitful dreams.
“Onesan. Onesan.” Doris woke again to her little brother’s voice saying her name. “Onesan, it’s nearly nine o’clock. Are you hungry again?”
“Hai,” she answered, stretching a bit. She sat up, feeling much stronger than she had earlier.
“How about some soup? I can make that pretty easy. I think we still have some broth in the downstairs freezer, how’s that sound?”
“Sounds good,” she replied. “You’re such a good little brother, taking care of your Onesan like this.”
“Well, it’s not as if you haven’t taken care of me before!” he smiled broadly. “I’ll go get it started!”
“Thank you, Dan. I think I’ll take a shower.”
“OK,” he said, running out of the room again.
Doris got out of bed, gathered a change of clothes and went to the bathroom down the hall. She closed the door behind her, turned the water on to warm. She stood and studied herself in the mirror while the water ran. She didn’t look the worse for wear since everything that had happened. Maybe a little pale from barely eating through it all. She looked closely at her neck in the mirror. Although she could no longer feel the bite marks, they had left two pink scars behind. She sighed. Even though the Count had been defeated and she was no longer under his influence in any way the villagers would probably always treat her as an outcast. Her hopes of marrying in this town were probably moot, as well as anywhere else, if those scars always remained. Granted, she was a very beautiful girl, and had a good personality, at least as far as she thought, but those things probably couldn’t compete with common ignorance.
The steam was rolling out of the shower, so she disrobed and entered the flow of water. She just stood at first, letting the water run down her back. After a minute or two of simply enjoying the sensation of the water massaging her tired form, she set to work washing her hair and body. When she was finished she faced into the water and again and just let the relaxing sensation flow over her. She reached up and rubbed the back of her neck, thinking again about her agreement with D.
She blushed, recalling her words. She was seventeen, and she had never kissed a boy, let alone slept with one. Of course, at that point, she was pretty sure that D had no plans on holding her up on the deal. He most definitely seemed too noble to take advantage of her like that. However, as she thought about it, a twinge of disappointment passed through her. She wasn’t far off in her thoughts about marriage. People wanted as little to do with the aristocracy as possible, and an attack survivor was indeed a little too close to the real thing, but, besides that, she did feel love for D, even though a part of her realized that it wasn’t real love, and was more likely to be infatuation with a kind, noble man who just happened to save her life at no benefit to himself.
She swallowed and, imagining that D was there standing behind her, ran one hand down her chest, cupping one breast. She inhaled slowly, thinking of what his touch would be like, and continued to move her hand down across her stomach. She whispered his name as her fingers brushed the curls between her thighs.
Doris nearly jumped out of her skin as Dan knocked on the door.
“Onesan, the soup is done, are you coming out?”
“Ha—Hai!” she called, flustered at being forced so quickly out of the fantasy.
“Okay,” Dan answered, walking back to the kitchen.
Doris quickly turned the water off, a fierce blush crossing her cheeks. She leapt out of the shower and dried herself off, leaving her hair dangling about her shoulders to dry. She pulled on her clothes as fast as she could, hating the feeling of the cloth sticking to her damp skin, and went out to meet her brother.
“Hey, Onesan, what kept you so long?”
“Just lost in thought,” she replied, failing to fight off the blush on her cheeks. “Where is D?”
“He’s still in there,” Dan said, handing her a bowl of soup with a spoon already set inside it. “You don’t think he’s sick, do you, or hurt bad and not saying anything, right?”
“No, he’s probably just exhausted. You know, like how we get after we harvest the grapes?” She said this with confidence to Dan, although, inside, she was indeed worried. She didn’t know what kind of injuries D may have withstood, especially since she couldn’t remember any of it.
“Yeah,” he said, “I guess you’re right.” Dan sat down at the table across from her and started slurping his soup.
“How did you do with the chores on your own?” Doris asked to make small talk.
“You’d be proud, Onesan, I got everything done from the past two days, well, everything except some of the repairs, but all the normal daily stuff that we’ve gotten behind on is all caught up!”
“That is good,” she replied, sipping her soup. “Did you see if any of the cows have dropped their calves?”
“Yeah,” Dan said, his sentence cut off by a deep yawn, “I saw one out there, and there’s two more that will be popping any day now. If they get any bigger, their stomachs are going to be dragging on the ground!”
“We’ll have to watch them pretty close the next couple of days, then,” Doris said, watching Dan yawn again. “Are you pretty tired?” she asked, “It must have been pretty hard getting all of those chores done by yourself.”
“Yeah,” he said mid-yawn, “I wanted to wait up for when D got up, but I don’t think he’s moving.”
Doris nodded, saying, “Well, I think you’d be better off to go to bed now and see him tomorrow.”
“But Onesan . . .”
“Dan, you need your rest just as much as me. We were both through a lot. You’ll be able to see D tomorrow.”
“OK, fine,” he grumbled, which proved that he really was exhausted, because any other time they argued about his bedtime, he kept at it right up until she forced his p.j.’s over his head.
“The soup’s really good, Dan,” she said.
“Thanks,” he said, finishing his own bowl and taking it to the sink, rinsing it out. “Okay, I guess I’ll go to bed, since you insist.”
“’Night, Onesan,” he said, leaving the kitchen and walking up the stairs to the second story.
Doris finished her soup and took the bowl to the sink. She saw by the clock on the wall that it was now 10 PM. She had slept for around eight hours and felt very rested. She thought about D. According to Dan, he had been in the spare room—supposedly asleep—for nearly 10 hours. This worried her, since he had never really slept before, at least, not to her knowledge. Whenever she had been awake, he had also been awake and alert. Of course, that probably came with the job of protecting her from attack, but, still, even though it was over it still unnerved her.
She walked into the living room, instantly noticing that the curtains on the picture window were wide open. The hairs on the back of her neck rose as she looked over the dark terrain. She rushed to the window and pulled the drapes quickly. She pulled back, feeling her heart pound inside her chest. This is stupid, she thought, what, am I planning on being afraid of the dark now? Even as she chided herself about the silly reaction, she walked to the opposite side of the room to check that the barricade was properly turned on. She sighed, seeing that everything was properly in order, and flopped down on the couch next to the barricade wall panel.
She slouched forward, leaning on her elbows and clasping her hands together. She had never been jumpy like that. She had always been sure of herself and confident that she could defend herself and Dan with no problem. However, since the attack by Count Lee, her confidence was nearly gone. As stupid as it was, she even felt uneasy about hunting down lesser dragons, something she had been doing alone since she was Dan’s age. She sighed again. That was another reason she hated the fact that D would be leaving soon. She felt safe with him there. His presence had literally spoiled her. She looked up toward the spare room, where she assumed D still slept. She felt so many different emotions toward the hunter that she could barely register them separately. She indeed felt love toward him, and extreme gratitude. There was also sorrow and even a little pity, but, primarily she was feeling guilt for her inability to pay him properly.
Her father had been stone cold when it came to his hunting fees. There was simply too much danger to hunt werewolves without sufficient pay, especially if he were to be killed in the process. The final fee would need to care for Doris, her brother and their mother while they transitioned to surviving solely by the farm. She remembered when that had finally happened five years earlier. They had barely made it. Of course, she understood that D had no family, that he was a pure wanderer. But that didn’t change much in her mind. She looked up at the portraits of her parents that hung high on the wall, her father’s old equipment and armor displayed below the portraits.
Otousan’s sword . . .
She stood and walked to the display. It held her father’s sword, as well as two hand guns and several knives. She attentively ran her hand over the sheath of the sword before lifting it from the pegs. Remaining where she stood, she held the sword vertically and unsheathed a few inches of it. It had been her father’s pride while he was alive, as well as her grandfather’s. It was given to her father when her grandfather retired from hunting. She also knew that neither she nor Dan had plans of ever using it. She sheathed the blade and tightened her grip on the sword. Perhaps D would accept this sword as a replacement for the one he lost? It was the least that she could do, and, besides, it warmed her to think that he would use this gift from her to protect his life the same as he had protected hers.
Before she realized it, she had made up her mind.
Taking the sword with her, she searched the downstairs for a sheet of paper. She wrote a brief note explaining why she wanted D to have the sword, wrapped the note around the sheath, and secured it there with a long piece of twine. She returned to the living room and sat back down, holding the sword close to her. She watched the door of the spare room, and wondered when D might come out. She imagined it couldn’t be much longer, considering the time, and, besides, she was nowhere near ready to go back to bed. She sat there thinking about all the things that were running through her mind, about where her life was going. She didn’t make any headways on any of it, simply let each problem chase itself around in her head.
She waited for at least an hour, and, when she glanced back into the kitchen to see that the hour was now a few minutes past eleven o’clock, she became worried. Why hadn’t D come out of that room yet? What if Dan was wrong? What if D had already left, even though he had promised that he wouldn’t leave while she was asleep? Then again, what if she was right about him being hurt? What if he was actually back there, unconscious and dying? That’s ridiculous, she told herself. If D was injured that bad he would have said something, asked for help when we first returned. He is definitely not stupid when it comes to these matters. Even so, she was still worried. She remained in her seat, fidgeting back and forth, continuing to argue inside her head about what might be wrong, as well as the likelihood of it really happening.
When the hour neared midnight, she finally couldn’t take it any more. She stood from her seat, keeping the sword in hand, and walked to the door of the spare room. She raised her hand and gave two clear knocks.
“D?” she asked in a moderate voice, “D, are you in there?” When she received no answer, she hesitantly turned the knob of the door and opened it a crack. Peering in, she waited for her eyes to focus. She could make out his feet at the end of the bed. Pressing her lips together with determination, she opened the door and walked in.
D had the curtains drawn and, without the light from the moon, the room would have been completely black. Because of that, she left the door open about a foot, giving her enough light to keep from tripping over anything. “D?” she said, her voice much quieter than the first time, having the slight feeling of entering a lion’s den without an invitation. She could clearly see D on the bed, and realized that his chest was bare. She blushed furiously as she realized that and, clutching the sword closer to her chest, carefully stepped forward. “D? D, are you all right?”
She stood directly over him, and was completely unnerved by his still, pale form. She could see his chest rising and falling with his breath, although just barely. “D?” she whispered, reaching out slowly to touch his shoulder. She was shocked to feel how cool his skin was. He didn’t wake at her touch, which made her more wary. Something had to be wrong for him to be that vulnerable. At first glance, she couldn’t see anything wrong with him, but, then again, she couldn’t see much with the light she had. The only light on in the house was in the living room, and the light she was receiving was not direct, but being reflected off a wall and into the room.
She sat her father’s sword down, propping it against the bed stand at her left. She leaned over him a little to examine him better. A chill ran up her spine when she saw his chest more clearly. Above his heart, there was extremely dark bruising, although she couldn’t see anything else besides the discoloration. Very carefully, and as gently as she could, she reached to his opposite shoulder, steadying herself with her hand on the edge of the bed. She ran her fingers down toward the bruising, searching for any lesions. So far, there was nothing. As her fingers crossed the darkest part of the bruising she felt a sliver of slightly raised skin. She leaned over more to get a closer look. That spot was apparently what was causing the bruising, but as far as she could tell, that wound didn’t appear any worse than a cat scratch. She laid her fingers flat across the area and pressed lightly to feel for swelling.
Suddenly every muscle of D’s body tensed, and, before Doris even knew what had happened, she was pinned on her back at the end of the bed, D’s large form holding her down. A snarl had escaped D’s lips, and she stared in abstract horror at his bared fangs and glowing eyes. She realized that the phrase “I’m sorry!” had been spilling from her lips for several seconds. Quickly, D seemed to come out of his own shock, realizing what he was doing.
“Doris,” he whispered, pulling away from her slightly, “what are you doing in here? Didn’t you realize how dangerous—” his words trailed off, as if he couldn’t quite finish what he was saying.
“I’m sorry,” she whispered again, “I—I thought, I thought there was something the matter.” She was extremely flustered by their position. “It’s . . . it’s nearly midnight, I was afraid—”
“You did not need to worry about me,” D said, standing up to his full height, gazing down at her.
She stared up at him, still laying on her back with her legs dangling off of the side of the bed, partially unable to move, partially unwilling. She thought that the flush on her face would take weeks to recede, and, worse, she figured that D could probably see it, even in the low light.
“I’m sorry,” she whispered, turning her face away from him, embarrassed to look him in the eye. “I didn’t mean to make you angry.”
“The only person I’m angry at is myself,” D answered, “I should have warned you.”
She looked back to him, slowly getting up as she whispered his name. “Don’t do that,” she pleaded, “Stop blaming yourself for everything!” Before he could move away, she pressed herself against him, inwardly savoring the feel of his bare skin under her fingers.
“Doris . . .” he began.
“No,” she said, “don’t push me away again . . . please.”
D tensed under the young woman’s touch. His control was very weak, in some ways even weaker than before he slept because some of his physical strength was returned and his base desires were stronger. He tightly closed his eyes. How could she not know the danger she was putting on herself? How could she not realize how she was tempting the demonic side of him?
“D,” she said, “I have been thinking about your payment—”
Remembering what her original offer was caused a tremor of lust to sweep through him.
“Since I can’t pay you any money, and I know that your sword was destroyed, I want you to take my father’s sword as payment.” She moved back from him and lifted the sword from its spot against the bed stand.
“I can’t accept it,” he said simply. “I assume it holds much sentimental value—”
“Then, if you can’t accept it as payment, then accept it as a gift,” she interrupted him. “I want you to have the sword, D,” she looked up at him, “it’s the least I can offer for saving my life.”
“Very well,” D replied, taking the sword with both hands from Doris. “Thank you. I shall use it well.”
Doris beamed, and bowed her head slightly, “I’m glad.” She stepped back from him, “Well, then,” she said, stepping around him, “I suppose I should go.”
She started toward the door, but as she reached the door, she looked back. He was propping the sword against the foot of the bed. Seeing the muscles sliding under his skin sent electricity through her body. She thought about her chances for marriage after all that had happened, about feelings she had for him. Remaining where she stood, she closed the door.
D heard the door close, but he could still hear Doris breathing inside of the room. What was she doing? “Doris.” He heard her footsteps come back to him, and her soft hands slide against his back. “What are you doing?”
“D,” she whispered, “I know—I know that you had no plan of taking me from the moment I hired you.” He closed his eyes tightly, his body betraying him as she spoke. She laid her head against his back, pressing her breasts into him, “I know you are too noble of a man to lower yourself to taking that sort of payment.”
“Doris, you don’t understand what you’re saying,” he said, his control hanging on by a thread. As if she didn’t hear him, she went on.
“I want you to make love to me, D. I know you will leave tomorrow. I know that I will never see you again, but, please, should I never know a man’s touch after tonight—as I fear will be the case since everyone in Ransylva knows about Lee—if I will never marry because of his interference with my life—” She felt tears standing in her eyes. “If I know no other man for the rest of my life, I will be happy if I know you tonight.”
“Doris,” D strained, “Doris, you don’t know what you’re asking. You don’t know the danger you are putting yourself in—”
“What danger?” Doris said, indignantly.
D closed his fists tightly. “From me. I won’t be able to control myself. I barely have control now,” he bit out.
“I don’t care,” she whispered, moving her arms to encircle his waist. “I don’t care. I’ve already told you that you could take my blood. Please, D. I need you.”
His control finally snapped. He whirled around, taking her up under her arms, a fierce look of possessiveness in his eyes. She gasped in a combination of fear and desire as he dropped her onto the bed and leaned over her. Doris was mystified, seeing the irises of his eyes glow with their own light. He placed his bare right hand along her jaw, drawing closer to her. She closed her eyes, expecting him to kiss her. However, she felt his lips against her neck instead.
Her hands drew up to his shoulders, clasping them tightly as his lips caressed her neck. She gasped when she first felt his teeth brush her skin. He nipped her skin lightly with his incisors, the lethal canines simply brushing her. She inhaled at each nibble, a strange electricity rushing through her body at the slight pain. He moved up and down her neck. She turned her head to the side to give him better access. He took the lobe of her ear into his mouth and sucked gently. She whispered his name, and he returned to the nape of her neck. She felt the tips of his fangs for a brief moment before his tongue gently laved the offended area. He continued to lavish her neck while his right hand moved down, touching her breast through her blouse and bra. She sighed at the sensation.
Finally, D bit down into the nape of her neck. Hot, sweet blood ran into his mouth. At the same moment, Doris stiffened at the pain and arched into him. D’s head swam with sensation. The second the blood hit the roof of his mouth, a tingling spread through his body, concentrated in the injuries that still remained there. As the second draught flooded his mouth, he felt the wounds finish healing, and he was left with the euphoric sensation of pulling on live blood. Doris moaned underneath him in a mixture of pain and pleasure. D pulled back slightly, licking the seeping wounds before biting lightly into his own tongue. He again licked over the punctures, his blood allowing the wounds to instantly begin healing.
Doris sighed as D drew back, the strange overwhelming dizziness that had come over her after he began drinking her blood wearing away. She gazed heavy-lidded at him, dropping her hands from his shoulders to let her arms fall above her head amidst her splayed hair. D looked hungrily at her, his lips slightly parted, no trace of blood showing there. He leaned down again, capturing her lips. His hand snaked under her shirt to caress her breast through the padding of her bra. She lifted her hands and entangled her fingers in his curtain of dark hair as he kissed her deeply. She heard a low, possessive growl coming from him that caused desire to pool between her legs.
D pulled back again, his heated gaze never leaving her face, both of his hands, one bare and one gloved, coming to the buttons of her blouse. One by one he moved down the line, exposing more and more of her flesh. When her blouse was lying completely open he leaned over her, kissing the swell of her exposed breasts, a small smirk on his lips at the blush on her cheeks. With a hand at the back of her neck he pulled her up to a sitting position. He kissed her on the lips a second time, his hands easing the blouse off of her shoulders. He moved to the nape of her neck as he unhooked the back closure of her bra, sliding the straps down her arms. He dropped both articles of clothing onto the floor, easing her back onto the mattress.
He leaned back and observed her beauty as he had not allowed himself to earlier. She was stunning, a small goddess in human form. It was no wonder Count Lee had wanted her. She writhed slightly on the bed as she looked up to him, her nervousness evident in the doe-eyed, although lusty, expression on her face. He leaned down again, capturing her breasts in his hands, kneading them as he placed gentle kisses on each swell. She moaned lightly as her breathing quickened. He captured her left nipple in his mouth, sucking lightly while rolling its twin between his right thumb and forefinger. He nipped around her breasts the same way he had done at her neck, although he had no plans of drawing blood in the tender area.
He pulled back a second time, pulling her to the edge of the bed and making her stand. Bending forward, he reached to the waistline of her jeans, quickly unbuttoning them. He kissed her cheek before catching her earlobe a second time as he unzipped her fly and worked both the jeans and her panties over the curve of her hips. As he pushed them down to the floor she stepped out of them, her hand on D’s shoulder to keep her balance.
He gently pushed her back onto the bed, but before he could continue, her hands were on his stomach, apparently searching for the waistline of his own pants. Remembering that she was blind in the dark, D reached to the bed stand where an unused candle and set of matches lay. Easily, with one hand, he struck one of the loose matches and lit the lonely candle. His sensitive eyes protested the sudden invasion of light, no matter how subtle it was, but he knew instantly that Doris preferred it that way. Her tiny, inexperienced hands lingered at his waist, nervously fumbling with the top button.
He reached forward and tenderly caressed her cheek, her blush returning tenfold through the motion. As she fumbled with the second button he reached down to help her, making swift work of the buttoned fly. His erection strained against the now-loose fabric, and her nervousness became apparent again. Her hands hovered in midair, apparently afraid to touch him, even through the material. He gently took her hand, drawing it near him and pressed her palm against the bulge. This motion seemed to break through her shyness, and she pressed her hand firmly against him, causing him to emit another low growl.
She gently hooked her fingers into his pants and undergarments, working them down his legs. She blushed all the way down to her collarbone, seeing his erection for the first time. She tentatively reached out, biting her lip, and encircled his shaft with her small hand. He growled again as she touched him. He reached forward, tangling his spidery fingers in her hair, massaging the base of her skull. After a few seconds he leaned down, capturing her lips again. He knelt down onto the floor, tall enough that Doris only needed to incline her head a little to maintain contact with him. As he pulled back, he nipped her bottom lip with his teeth. With his hands on her shoulders, he gently pushed her to lie back on the mattress.
Doris wasn’t sure what to expect. She lay back as he had motioned her to do, awkwardly staring down at him over her own body. The realization that she was totally exposed to him hit her. She brought her hands together just under her breast, fidgeting with her fingers slightly as he glided his hands over her legs. She moaned lightly as he kissed the insides of her knees, occasionally nipping her as he had everywhere else. She gasped in surprise as he firmly gripped her hips and pulled her toward the edge of the bed so that her pelvis was just barely balanced on the edge. She looked down at him in shock, catching his gaze. His eyes were dark and possessive as he moved her right leg over his shoulder, turning his head to trace a line from her lower thigh to her mid-calf, all the while not breaking eye contact with her. Doris forgot all about her nervousness and embarrassment as she watched him, nearly hypnotized by the grace in his movements and the sensations his actions were creating for her.
D was overwhelmed by the heady scent of her sex. He bit the inside of her thigh again, his cock twitching as the action produced both a moan and a more concentrated scent to come from her. He traced the nails of his bare right hand up the inside of Doris’ free leg, cupping her mound once he reached the juncture of her thighs. She arched her back with a strangled moan at the contact. He pressed against her with the heel of his hand, stimulating the entire area before running his whole hand down over her vulva. He brought his fingers back up, delicately stroking her nether lips one by one. She was gasping quietly above him, her legs quivering from the new sensations. He smirked, kissing her thigh again. He positioned his forefinger at her slippery entrance, his thumb lightly pressing the hard bundle of nerves at the apex of her folds. She moaned again as he gently pressed the digit forward into her waiting sex.
Her virginal canal was extremely tight, though dripping from arousal. Her thighs quivered as he made slow circles over her clitoris while probing the digit to his second knuckle. His fingers were so long that he could already feel her maidenhead blocking his passage. He withdrew slightly to add a second finger. She arched into his hand as he did so. D swooned as her scent thickened, combined with the thought of the blood from her hymen. He knew that, despite popular belief, the tearing of the hymen did not cause a virgin the pain of first intercourse. The tear itself may feel like a small pinch. The primary pain was from having her muscles stretched for the first time. Knowing that, D bit Doris’s thigh as he pressed this fingers passed her barrier. She gasped, apparently not noticing the pain of the tear, confusing it with a wave of desire.
He smelled her blood instantaneously, a blue surge of light emitting from his eyes as he lowered his head to take the place of his thumb. Doris cried out as D began the ministrations with his tongue, his name escaping her lips somewhere between a sigh and a hiss. He added a third finger, the smell on her virgin blood on his hand now, driving him mad. He wanted to draw more, his fangs seeming to strain from his jaw in eagerness. Not here, he groaned to himself. Not here at this holy place . . .
Doris bucked her hips unintentionally with a strangled cry. D extracted his fingers, her blood glistening on them. He moved his gloved hand to continue her stimulation as he brought his bloody fingers to his mouth, licking them clean as he watched her writhe on the mattress. When every speck was gone from each digit he returned to her hot core with his mouth, his tongue desperately searching for more of the sweet droplets. The lingering metallic taste was short-lived, the tear already closing, allowing the natural musk to come through. In frustration, D probed deeper to find the source of the blood, but it was dry. Abandoning the search, he concentrated on bringing the quivering girl to climax, returning his fingers to work and skillfully licking and nipping the entire sensitive area.
Doris, lost in sensation, pushed against him, her hair spread alluringly about her as she tossed back and forth, her fingers gripping the bed cover tightly. D caught both of her legs under the knee, forcing her to spread her thighs as far as she could. The action caused everything his was doing to feel more intense. She gasped and made a sound somewhere between a moan and a whine, again arching against him. She could feel the sensation building in her, pooling low in her stomach.
D could tell she was close. Every signal her body sent out told him so. He pressed against her taught legs, causing her to whine again. He could actually feel her muscles tensing before her release. He turned his head quickly, biting into her inner thigh, as close as he dared to her sex. Almost instantaneously she came, her entire body shuddering as she gasped and moaned. Her blood rushed into his mouth again, super heated and spiked with a distinct spice from her arousal. He swooned with the taste, his eyes rolling back into his head, loosing himself in her taste, in her soul.
He stopped the ministrations of his fingers, placing his palm over the entire sensitive area while Doris recovered. D felt her shaking fingers tangle into his hair, his name on her lips. It was all he could do to pull away from the newly inflicted wounds on her thigh. As he looked up at her she gripped his shoulders with weak hands and pulled him up. Tears glistened on her eyelashes as she captured his lips, tasting her blood on them. She clung to him, feeling as though she could never let him go.
“D,” she murmured, “D.” She said his name over and over again as she kissed him, several tears escaping her eyes. “Make love to me,” she whispered.
D’s heated gaze locked with hers, and he hooked one arm around her and guided her back to the head of the bed. He laid her back and settled between her legs. Balancing on one elbow he kissed her lips again, his naked hand gently squeezing her breast before gliding down her stomach.
Doris’s breath was caught in her chest as he kissed her. She felt his erection resting against her inner thigh, giving off an amazing heat compared to his relatively cool body. As his hand passed over her curls, he repositioned himself, taking his member and brushing the head against her slick folds, spreading the lubrication to ease her first penetration. He kissed her neck just below her ear as he began to push at her entrance. Her breath quickened as she felt him entering her most private area. Instinctively, her muscles tensed in both excitement and apprehension. D stroked her thigh with his free hand, pausing for a second to whisper into her ear, a distinct gruffness in his voice, “You need to relax, koi, or I will hurt you.”
“D,” she moaned, hearing the familiar term he called her. The gruffness of his voice sent a shiver down her spine, and she melted into his embrace. He pressed further into her, the head of his penis passing through the tight opening of her vagina. She tensed again at the foreign feeling of being stretched. He paused again, kissing her neck and kneading her breast until she relaxed again. He continued again, this time until he was almost completely sheathed inside her. He hissed into her ear at the feeling of completeness. Likewise, Doris trembled underneath him, the feeling of fullness completely alien to her. She was surprised that there wasn’t more pain. Primarily, she just felt slight discomfort in the new sensation. Considering that she’d heard enough “girl-talk” to know D was fairly large in that category, that fact surprised her even more.
D touched her cheek with his fingertips, descending on her lips again. She kissed him hungrily and moaned loudly into his mouth as he slowly began to move inside her. Her arms shot up to his shoulders and back, clawing at his skin as the new sensations quickly overwhelmed her. Every time he thrust against her, it felt as though a low current of electricity shot from her lower stomach up her torso, slowly spreading further each time as he continued.
D was mesmerized by the beauty of her body, the sweet taste of her blood, and by the smell of it that still hung in the air with her arousal. He abruptly altered his position, propping himself up by the full length of his arms. Doris let out a gasping moan from the change of angle, her nails scraping down his upper arms. He took her wrists one by one and held them above her head so that he could admire her body without hindrance. He brought his knees up so that he could balance without his arms. He released her wrists and she tangled her fingers into both the pillow fabric and her wild hair. He gripped her hip with one hand, massaging her breast with the other. He closed his eyes and allowed his other senses to take over. He drank in the soft moans and gasps she made, as surely as he had her blood.
Dropping his hand to her clitoris again, he gently stimulated the area, hearing her mewl his name again. Instantly, she tightened around him, which seemed almost impossible considering how tight she already was. He thrust harder, quickening his pace. Her moans grew slightly. He placed more pressure on her clitoris with his thumb, pushing against her stomach with his fingers. Her inside muscles gripped him sporadically. A growl of pleasure escaped from his own throat. It was simply delicious. He had denied himself that simple carnal pleasure for much too long.
Doris was squirming under him, her heels trying to find enough leverage to push against him, the sensations building like a tightening coil in her stomach. He continued the pressure on her clitoris, and suddenly the coil sprung loose. She moaned through clenched teeth as she came for a second time, her entire body shaking uncontrollably with the waves of electricity flowing through her.
As she came, her inner muscles clasped him like a vice. D fell down on her, his fingers tangling in her hair, and his fangs ripping into her neck again. The second her blood touched his tongue he fell over the edge, all of the stimulants around him overwhelming him. He pounded into her, deeper than he had the entire time.
His eyes snapped open in a moment of clarity. Releasing her neck, he pulled from her warmth barely in time, spilling his seed safely onto her inner thigh. No. The world does not need another dhampir. He let out gasping sigh of relief, dropping his forehead onto her shoulder, his weight propped up on his elbow.
The scent of her blood from the fresh wound flooded his nostrils. Instantaneously, the guilt took over. Biting into his own tongue again, he let his blood heal the punctures on her neck. He set his lips next to her ear. “Forgive me,” he whispered, placing a chaste kiss on the side of her head, “please forgive me.” He shifted away from her, reaching for a spare linen that set near the bed, wiping away his contaminated semen.
Doris pulled herself up on the bed, her body still shaky from their activities. D saw the bite marks that he’d left on her inner thigh.
“I’m so sorry,” he muttered. He reached out with his right hand, the nail of his forefinger cutting into the pad of his thumb. He moved to heal the marks.
Doris watched his hand move, suddenly realizing what he was doing. She grabbed his hand before the blood could make contact. “Wait!” she gasped.
D touched her face with his gloved hand, saying, “My blood can’t hurt you, Doris. You won’t be contaminated by it, merely healed.”
“No, no,” she said, her face flushed, “that isn’t it.” She swallowed, moving into a kneeling position before him so that they looked each other in the eye. She placed her hands on either side of his face and kissed him. She rested her forehead against his. “I want the scars,” she said. “I know. I know I’ll never see you again. I want something to remember you—to remember this. Leave them.” She kissed him again, tears slipping down her cheeks.
D bowed his head. “As you wish.”
“Lie with me, please?”
She turned, pulling the covers down on the bed, crawling underneath them. He followed, lying on his back. She curled into him, laying her head on his chest. He reached over, snuffing the candle on the bedside table before closing his arm around her. He kissed the top of her head before simply staring at the ceiling.
“I love you.”
Her whisper was barely audible, but he heard.
He closed his eyes, feeling the guilt and shame build up in him for succumbing to his vampire instincts. He was too close to this girl, much too close, and, if he stayed any longer he would most likely lose control again.
He would be leaving early in the morning, before either Doris or Dan awoke. It would be better than causing a scene, and would keep his resolve from breaking.
He stroked Doris’s hair. She had already fallen asleep.
It was for the best.
A/N: Thank you for reading! If you'd like to contact me about this story, feel free to email me at email@example.com. I look forward to hearing from you.