 he pain lasted only an instant; then my heart was pounding and my head was spinning and the bed was only a dim softness beneath my back. Every sensation whirlpooled toward the point where my throat met Aedros' lips. Gladly I let him drink, stilling my body's natural instinct to heal itself. I would give him as much as he could hold, and more, if I could just go on feeling like this....
Aedros shuddered as he took in the power of my blood; he'd never drunk from a Fury before. And I held him tight, fearful he'd break our contact without meaning to. But then he groaned and seized me by the back of the head, pulling me even closer. My head spun, my nerve endings sang, and the only thing that kept me grounded at all was the knowledge that if I let go any further, my body would heal itself and Aedros would have to withdraw. It was a small sacrifice to make in return for the pleasure he gave me. It was also my saving grace when, perhaps an hour later, his teeth withdrew and his jaws creaked, spreading wide for a different kind of bite. It happened too fast for my drugged consciousness to react, but my body knew what to do. I twisted as hard as I could against the pillow, and the bite that should have severed my spine only took out a portion of my jugular and the muscles beneath. At the same moment, the Fury burst out of me entirely of its own accord, and the sudden doubling of my body mass threw Aedros off the bed. I sat up snarling, but for the moment I was too weak to do anything but hold my wounded neck together while it healed. Aedros could very well have taken me then, if he'd noticed how badly I was hurt. Fortunately, he was too busy posturing. Wiping a sheet of my blood off his face, he licked his fingers and smiled. "I was right," he said, climbing to his feet. "The taste of your blood does change when you change forms. It's fascinating, really. But I must say, I liked you better when you looked like a human being." My neck had healed now and I rose, black flames snapping around me like visible anger. "You won't have to worry about that very long, asshole," I growled. The iron dagger materialized in my left hand, eager to pierce his cold chest and punch his soul straight into hell. If he hadn't leapt away just in time, I would have pinned him to the floor with it. The pain of betrayal, coupled with he shame I felt at allowing myself to be duped, more than counteracted any hesitation I felt about killing him. But now Aedros was out of my reach, and shaking a finger at me like a mother with a wayward child. "Ah ah, Fury," he smirked. "You're just a little too slow, and now you've lost the advantage." A fireball blossomed in his right hand. "Come close enough to use that again--" he gestured toward my blade--" and we'll see how much protection black fire is against red." He had a point; my flames were more decorative than functional. But what he didn't understand was that I had no choice about whether or not I attacked him--only about when. And now, when he was expecting hesitation, might be my best chance. If I could catch him off balance, I might be able to strike before he had a chance to react. Without a word, I launched myself at him, using wings and strength together for maximum effect. My dagger was arcing toward his chest when the fireball slammed into my face. Through the fire and blindness, I felt the blade cut through his shirt and tear his skin; then I was thrown halfway across the room by the force of the blast. But even then, my scream was more rage than pain; and as I let it loose I felt my own dark flames burn away his pale ones. I struggled to my feet, and when I could see again, I found Aedros on his knees, panting and holding one hand to his blood-soaked chest as if my scratch were a mortal wound. I'd have thought he was bluffing if my instincts hadn't confirmed the truth. "It's like poison, isn't it?" I said, moving towards him again. "Even if it doesn't cut deep enough to kill you, you'll wish it had. What does it feel like, Aedros? Acid? Is your heart seizing up on you, struggling to keep beating against the pain?" Then his eyes met mine and I paused. Even now, with his face pinched with pain and covered in my blood, he was still as beautiful as a fallen angel. My stomach wrenched at the thought of killing him. My gaze dropped to his lips, tracing their elegant curves and remembering how they felt against my neck, and I lowered my dagger. The second fireball was larger than the first, and threw me clear to the far wall. Even the snakes on my head writhed in agony, and the air around me was thick with the smell of burning flesh. But I wasn't too far gone to sense Aedros creeping toward the stairwell. He wasn't trying to kill me any longer, just escape, and if I let him get down into those dark passages, I'd lose him for sure. Rage hurled me across the room and I met him in the doorway, stabbing deep through the meat of his shoulder before he could stagger away. Again I bore down on him, staggering still myself, and this time I refused to let myself be distracted. I knew what his third gift was now, even if I couldn't put a name to it. In his desperation a moment ago, he'd laid on the attraction just a little too thickly, and I knew now that what I felt for him was as much his doing as mine. I might be a sucker for good looking men, but I wasn't that much of a sucker. Aedros, too, seemed to realized he'd lost that advantage--or perhaps he was too weak to use it any longer. In either case, I saw him as he was now, a handsome man, but vain and manipulative and deeply evil. Disgust rose up within me, bathing my wounds in righteous fury; and my black flames roared almost to the ceiling. The vampire retreated to the far corner of the alcove, then set the bed on fire and shoved it toward me with superhuman strength. I leapt aside and came on, screaming my way through one fireball after another. Soon the whole room was ablaze, all that beautiful artwork melting like tinsel. Through the smoke I saw Aedros glance toward the nearest window, and I knew he was still thinking of escape. A bat's body was a much smaller target than a man's, and he could fly as fast as I could. I got to the window while he was still changing and nearly severed one of his wings, but as the tiny body dropped to the floor, it became a man again--a man with both arms fully attached! This was something I should expected, being a sort of shapeshifter myself, but it was still a wrench. I shoved the disappointment aside as another fireball blasted me halfway out the window. The battle raged on through the night, with neither of us gaining a clear advantage. As often as I thought I had Aedros on the run, he eluded me; as often as he tried to escape, I cut him off. The tower must have looked like hell's lighthouse to anyone watching from below. The furniture had all burned to cinders and only the jewels were left when the vampire cast a final, desperate glance toward the window. It was still black outside, but we both sensed that morning was on its way, and I knew now that I had been right about the bed. It wasn't any need for a coffin that kept Aedros from sleeping in the bedroom, but rather a need for protection -- from the daylight. Any minute now, he must be thinking, that horizon was going to start to lighten and he would be the one to burn. I could almost see the calculations going on in his head, and was ready for him when he acted. I ducked the final fireball and watched as he leaped through the window, changing in midair. And this I paused half a beat before following. The bat shrieked as he finally discovered my third gift, the wall of tangible darkness I'd wrapped around the parapets. His momentum had carried him beyond it before he could to brake, and now he hung exposed to the rising sun. The rays lanced his body like golden spears. As the tiny body toppled out of the sky I dived after it, dagger outstretched, and I pierced its heart just before it crumbled to dust. For a moment I thought I heard a faint whine, like a fly's buzz on the edge of hearing. Then the vampire's ashes scattered and I was alone in the sky.
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he chapel was on the edge of town, a tiny, gray stone building with large windows and an open door. I was able to maintain my self-control until I stood right on the doorstep. But when the ancient priest turned from his prayers and saw me there, grim-faced, pale, and smoke-smudged, I burst into tears. "The vampire is dead," I told him, and collapsed against the door jamb.
Something in my eyes must have convinced him of my sincerity. "Chresta be praised," he breathed, and ran to embrace me, patting my back as the shudders began. "I've been praying for this for years, although I must admit, I didn't expect the solution to come in so small a package." He laughed softly, then took my face in his hands and kissed my forehead. "But who am I to question the divine will? You are our deliverer, child. You're a heroine." Am I? I wondered. And all through the days of celebration afterward, through the praise and the songs and the feasts and the dancing, my mind kept replaying the moment when my dagger pierced Aedros' heart. What reason was there to praise myself when killing had felt so good? When I left the town, I was still shuddering. |
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