body over the girls, still deep within her. Grabbing a handful of her hair, he pulled her head back and looked into her eyes. The Seneschal approached, holding a gold-handled knife. Nick took it from him without breaking eye contact with the girl. Slowly he turned the blade in front of her eyes, hearing her voice cry silently in his mind.
Just as he could hold back no longer, he stabbed the knife into her throat, just below the left ear, severing the artery. Blood fountained out and he lowered his mouth to her neck, sucking at the warm liquid like a baby at its mother’s breast. Her blood was sweet, but it was not the blood he craved. It was not the blood that sustained him. That, too, was part of the show for his followers, to blind them with what they wanted to see and thereby hide the truth from their ignorant eyes.
He felt the weakening of her heart, savoring her terror and the essence of her life force as it poured from her into him. This was the elixir of life. All that was her spirit was becoming his.
As her heart stopped, he drove brutally inside her, shuddering in ecstasy as his climax matched in perfect timing with her death. Her life force merged with his. For a moment, he allowed the bliss to take him, floating in a sea of perfect contentment. Then he rose and stood before his followers, his body awash with the still-warm blood.
“She is yours.”
Like a pack of wolves, the assembly surged forward, tearing at the body with knives and fingernails, ripping clunks of flesh and filling their mouths with the sweet taste of her flesh. Within moments, her body was mutilated. After that, the orgy began.
Like rutting animals in heat, they pawed at one another, giving no care to what partner they chose. There was no discrimination in color or sex. Nick watched in amusement, and then saw one lone figure standing apart from the others. He raised his hand and the figure moved toward him. The robe dropped to the ground and the luscious body was displayed. She was not the woman he lusted for, but she was certainly seductive and willing.
For the moment, that would do.
The Next Morning—Sea Island
Lyra returned from her morning run feeling the happiest she could remember being in a long time. Her date with Nick had not turned out anything like she had expected. Instead of ending up a disaster like so many others, it had been fun. They had stayed at the photography studio, trying on clothes and taking one picture after another.
He let her help in the dark room, developing the negatives. Once the negatives were developed, they left them to dry and he brought her home. She could still feel the touch of his lips against hers as he gently kissed her goodnight. It was the first time she could ever remember wishing a kiss hadn’t ended.
But Nick had not pushed for anything more than a chaste kiss and a brief hug. They made plans to take her catamaran out the next afternoon. She was going to teach him to sail. He was going to go back to the studio before he picked her up and make prints of all the pictures.
There was no sign of Lexi or Leopold. Lexi’s car had been gone when Lyra got in last night and she hadn’t heard them come in. She grabbed a bottle of water from the refrigerator and went upstairs to shower.
After drying off she wrapped a towel around her head, turban-style and walked into her room. She gasped and jerked the towel off her head, trying to cover her body as she saw Leopold sitting on the bed, sipping a Bloody Mary.
“What’re you doing in my room? Get out!”
“Please forgive me.” He averted his eyes as she adjusted the towel. “I didn’t mean to frighten you, my dear. I merely came to inquire about your date.”
“Have you ever heard of the concept of knocking?” Lyra secured her towel and crossed her arms in front of her chest, glaring at him.
“I apologize.” Leopold set his drink on the nightstand.
Lyra backed away as he took a step toward her. “I want you to get out of my room.
Just as he could hold back no longer, he stabbed the knife into her throat, just below the left ear, severing the artery. Blood fountained out and he lowered his mouth to her neck, sucking at the warm liquid like a baby at its mother’s breast. Her blood was sweet, but it was not the blood he craved. It was not the blood that sustained him. That, too, was part of the show for his followers, to blind them with what they wanted to see and thereby hide the truth from their ignorant eyes.
He felt the weakening of her heart, savoring her terror and the essence of her life force as it poured from her into him. This was the elixir of life. All that was her spirit was becoming his.
As her heart stopped, he drove brutally inside her, shuddering in ecstasy as his climax matched in perfect timing with her death. Her life force merged with his. For a moment, he allowed the bliss to take him, floating in a sea of perfect contentment. Then he rose and stood before his followers, his body awash with the still-warm blood.
“She is yours.”
Like a pack of wolves, the assembly surged forward, tearing at the body with knives and fingernails, ripping clunks of flesh and filling their mouths with the sweet taste of her flesh. Within moments, her body was mutilated. After that, the orgy began.
Like rutting animals in heat, they pawed at one another, giving no care to what partner they chose. There was no discrimination in color or sex. Nick watched in amusement, and then saw one lone figure standing apart from the others. He raised his hand and the figure moved toward him. The robe dropped to the ground and the luscious body was displayed. She was not the woman he lusted for, but she was certainly seductive and willing.
For the moment, that would do.
The Next Morning—Sea Island
Lyra returned from her morning run feeling the happiest she could remember being in a long time. Her date with Nick had not turned out anything like she had expected. Instead of ending up a disaster like so many others, it had been fun. They had stayed at the photography studio, trying on clothes and taking one picture after another.
He let her help in the dark room, developing the negatives. Once the negatives were developed, they left them to dry and he brought her home. She could still feel the touch of his lips against hers as he gently kissed her goodnight. It was the first time she could ever remember wishing a kiss hadn’t ended.
But Nick had not pushed for anything more than a chaste kiss and a brief hug. They made plans to take her catamaran out the next afternoon. She was going to teach him to sail. He was going to go back to the studio before he picked her up and make prints of all the pictures.
There was no sign of Lexi or Leopold. Lexi’s car had been gone when Lyra got in last night and she hadn’t heard them come in. She grabbed a bottle of water from the refrigerator and went upstairs to shower.
After drying off she wrapped a towel around her head, turban-style and walked into her room. She gasped and jerked the towel off her head, trying to cover her body as she saw Leopold sitting on the bed, sipping a Bloody Mary.
“What’re you doing in my room? Get out!”
“Please forgive me.” He averted his eyes as she adjusted the towel. “I didn’t mean to frighten you, my dear. I merely came to inquire about your date.”
“Have you ever heard of the concept of knocking?” Lyra secured her towel and crossed her arms in front of her chest, glaring at him.
“I apologize.” Leopold set his drink on the nightstand.
Lyra backed away as he took a step toward her. “I want you to get out of my room.
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