Duet in Blood Read online

  “You have lost much blood,” one of them said, his voice a grating whine. “You will drink this.” While the other supported my head, he held a goblet containing a dark red fluid to my lips. As the thick sweetness flowed over my tongue, I felt an immediate surge of energy course throughout my body.

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  “What is it?” I asked, wanting more.

  “The elixir of life.” The two exchanged cold smiles. “You will receive another cup in a few hours.”

  They left me alone, and it was then that I realised I was in some form of prison. The brick-lined walls had no windows. The only light came from two large candles that hung from iron brackets embedded in the wall over my bed.

  Testing my strength, I sat up slowly and swung my legs over the edge of the bed. The stone floor was cold beneath my feet, but as I stood up, the pain in my side seemed less and no blood stained the linen bindings. I walked a few steps. I felt stronger, much stronger than when they had carried me here—but to where exactly? I looked up at the domed ceiling again. It had the look of witchcraft. Men who experimented in astronomy or worshipped the sun and moon were considered to be dabblers in the black arts—and as such were often executed by drowning or burning.

  Why had they brought me here? Was I to be sacrificed after they made me well? That possibility could not be ignored, for although the men had cared for me, there was nothing about them that inspired hope or comfort. Later, they brought me a platter of bread and cheese, and more of the ‘elixir’ that I again swallowed with zest. For three days I was fed this way, then, on the fourth day, the men bade me to stand and roughly removed the dressing from my side. Sighs of satisfaction escaped their lips as they gazed at my body. I peered down, expecting to see some form of scar where the arrow had pierced me, but there was not one sign there of my ever having been wounded. One of them reached out and ran his hand over my side, teasing the flesh with his fingertips. I felt a quick revulsion at his touch.

  “Enough,” the other snapped. “He is not for you to enjoy, brother Tito.” He took my arm and led me to the door. “A bath has been drawn for you, and fresh clothes put aside for you to wear. The Master will speak with you when you have prepared yourself.”

  A bath—how wonderful to be able wash away the sweat and dirt of the past few days. I began to feel better about my situation. Perhaps they meant me no harm at all. Perhaps after bathing and speaking with the Master, whom I presumed I was to thank for his charity, I would be sent on my way. Perhaps.

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  Happily, I splashed about in the hot soapy water, holding my breath and dunking my head under the surface, rubbing vigorously at my skin, all the while thinking of the ways I could find my way home—hopefully to discover my mother and father alive and well.

  I lay back in the tub, relaxing in the balm the warm water created, and I thought of Marcus Verano, the stranger who had come into my life those months ago and who had brought me sensations that before him, I had never even dreamed of. Lying there in a luxury not often afforded me, I visualised his noble face, the dark hair that curled around his brow, the full sensuous lips that had brought me to the brink of ecstasy with their first touch on mine. I swear I could feel it then, that first feather-light kiss he had bestowed on my eager mouth. A first kiss is something to remember and treasure for all time. That first sensation of moist warmth that envelops the senses, that increases as the kiss grows from tenderness, to a quiet passion, to an all-consuming desire to have it never end. Such was the kiss Marcus Verano had left me to remember and never forget.

  I wallowed in this bliss until the water grew cold, then I dried myself with the thick towel provided. A tunic of white linen hung on the back of a chair, and I slipped it on, before running my fingers through my short black hair.

  The door opened as I peered at myself in the mirror that hung by the bath.

  “Yes, you are beautiful,” a voice behind me said. “But then, I do not think you need my assurance of that.” I swung around and stared at the tall figure in the doorway. Like the others, he was dressed from head to toe in a long black cloak. But no hood covered his head, and green eyes gazed at me from a face I instantly recognised.

  “Marcus…” I gaped at him as a slow smile spread across his strikingly comely face. I ran to him, throwing my arms about him, and he held me, his mouth taking mine in a hungry kiss.

  “Marcus,” I whispered into this mouth.

  “So, young Joseph…that is his name…”

  I jerked my head back and stared at him. His green eyes had lost the lustre I

  remembered. Something was not right.

  There was something sinister about this man.

  My voice trembled. “Marcus?” His laughter chilled my blood. I struggled to free myself, but his arms were like iron bonds. “Who are you?” I gasped.

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  “I am what you wished me to be,” the man said, a wicked chuckle escaping his lips, his breath rancid on my cheek.

  “You are nothing I wished for,” I said, still struggling in his embrace.

  “Better you hold on to that wish, for the reality will freeze your blood.”

  He ripped the tunic from my body, gripping my naked flesh with hands that I

  remembered as sensuously tender but now brought pain. Anger grew within me. I lashed out at him, striking him on the face. I cried out in horror as, like a waxen mask, his features dissolved into a grotesque parody of a human face.

  “Dear God…” I backed away from the monster who stood before me.

  “Hold him!” His command brought two more men into the room. They seized my arms

  in a brutal grip, forcing me to kneel in front of the man who, only a few seconds ago I had been ecstatic to see again. Now, the sight of him froze my blood, just as he had predicted. He opened his robe, and I screamed as I realised what he intended.

  “No, no—”

  My cries of despair were cut off as he plunged his disgusting flesh into my mouth.

  In the days that followed, I thought that the depths of my degradation could sink no lower—but in that, I was wrong. It is too painful for me to relate all that was perpetrated upon me in the ensuing years—years that were long and insufferable. Suffice to say, I wished for, no longed for, death to take me away from this vile existence to which I was subjected.

  But the monsters were not quite finished with me. On the eve of the twenty-fifth year of my life, they gathered about me, these fiends in black, shuffling, shifting, whispering around me as I lay bound and stretched naked upon my bed.

  “Beauty still exists,” one said, running a finger over my torso. “See, how tight and firm is his flesh and how smooth his skin.”

  “But…” The Master, the one I hated beyond all the others regarded me with his pale eyes. “…Now is the time for his beauty to be preserved. Another year and it will begin to fade. Bring in the creature.”

  The door opened, and a young man bound in silver chains was pushed into the room.

  He was tall and comely, with dark auburn hair and dazzling blue eyes. He surveyed us with a defiant air, although his expression was curious as he stared at me, obviously wondering DUET IN BLOOD

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  why I was bound to the bed. He hissed his hatred at my captors, and my eyes widened with fear, as I saw his incisors lengthen into fangs.

  A vampire…

  The Master chuckled. “So, Vampire, have we kept you long enough from your supper?

  Have the days of your confinement whetted your appetite? Do you hunger? See? We have prepared for you a sumptuous feast.”

  The vampire’s eyes of cobalt blue bored into mine, and in them, I saw his hunger for my blood. The wizards released him from his chains, and I struggled against my own bonds as he approached my bed. His handsome face clouded with sadness
as he looked down at me.

  “Poor mortal,” he whispered. “Why are they doing this to you?”

  His compassion surprised and shocked me. “Help me, please,” I pleaded, but he shook his head, looking at the hard, ugly faces of those who stood around him.

  “I am sorry…but I will be gentle,” he murmured, his lips close to my ear. “Close your eyes…” I felt his lips on my throat, his tongue gently licking the skin over my jugular vein.

  His nearness sent a visceral thrill through my body. His scent intoxicated me. His touch caused me to grow hard with desire. When his teeth pierced my skin, and I felt him suck the blood from me, the overwhelming urge to break free of my bonds and crush him to me tore a great guttural cry of ecstasy from deep within my soul.

  “Enough!”

  They pulled him away from me. He snarled at them, then his eyes met mine, and he smiled, I think to give me courage. My bonds were loosened, and I was allowed to sit up.

  Dazed and disoriented as I was, I reached for the young vampire and grasped his hand. He leaned over me, and I saw that a deep cut had been inflicted on his chest over his left nipple.

  He sat astride my thighs, put his hand behind my head and pulled me towards him.

  “Drink,” he said quietly. “Drink and live.”

  I licked the blood that oozed from the cut, surprised by its richness and sweet taste.

  Then my lips closed over the wound, and I sucked as he held my head close to his chest.

  Once more, I was filled with an almost uncontrollable sexual desire. I pressed myself to him, thrilled to feel his erection throb against mine. His body shuddered, and I knew he had ejaculated just as I now did, sending streams of semen pumping up between our torsos.

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  Vaguely, I was aware of the grunts and cackles of satisfaction coming from the black shrouded monsters who stood around us, witnessing this entire scene with the utmost pleasure. The vampire was pulled off me and thrown to the ground. I sensed that my drinking his blood had weakened him, for he did not immediately jump to his feet but lay there, panting, trying to regain his strength. Two guards entered the room and dragged him away. I prayed they were not going to harm him.

  “Now, Joseph…” The Master’s ugliness was increased as he smiled at me, showing

  blackened stumps where teeth should have been. “Your indoctrination has begun. When it is over, you will be blessed by eternal life and beauty. That which you now possess will never fade. You will remain young forever. The vampire we chose to imbue you with his blood is blessed, or cursed, which ever you prefer, with an extremely powerful strain.”

  “Am I then to be a vampire like him?”

  “Not as long as you remain with us. Our magic will control the transition, giving you immortality, but without the unfortunate flaws vampires must endure.”

  Then, not knowing very much about vampires, except that I had thought they were

  beings to be deathly afraid of, I was unaware of what he meant. That knowledge would come later.

  The following night they brought the vampire to me again, this time leaving us alone, with only the guards stationed outside to stop any escape attempt either of us might make.

  He sat by my side and regarded me with some fondness in his eyes. He told me his name was Bernard.

  “How did this happen to you?” he asked with a tenderness I would not have expected from the likes of him. He smiled as he read the thought. “We are not all rabid monsters, Joseph. Some of us follow a different mode of belief—that those who give us life have the right to live. The man who changed me, Marcus Verano, taught me that.”

  I gripped his arm. “You know Marcus? Oh, tell me where he is, please.”

  “Sadly, I do not know. Far from here, I’m afraid. Far beyond my powers to reach him with my thoughts. How do you know him?”

  I told him of our brief meeting, and how Marcus had left me with a desperate need to see him again.

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  “Yes…” Bernard smiled at me. “Marcus has that effect on many people.” He touched my cheek gently. “If our paths cross again, I will be sure to tell him of your plight. These monsters are our enemies, bent on our destruction. What is it they intend to do with you?”

  “They want to give me immortality, so that I will not age. They said your blood would assure that.”

  “Yes, it will, but it will also cause you to become like me. Have they told you that?”

  “They say not. They claim their magic can control the change.”

  “Hmm…that’s interesting. The wizards may have powers we do not yet know of.”

  “They are vile,” I said, with vehemence. “You cannot know what they do to me.”

  “I can guess.” His eyes reflected a sadness that made me ask what pained him so.

  “When I was but a babe,” he said, “I was taken in by monks who raised me to manhood.”

  “But from the sound of your voice it was not a happy time,” I remarked.

  “No, it was not. You say I cannot know what these men do to you, but Joseph, I do know, for that was what I was subjected to until the eighteenth year of my life—until Marcus came and freed me from their abuse.” He smiled sadly. “If there was a window in this cell, I would fly you out of here.”

  “Could you make me stronger than they want you to?” I asked him.

  He nodded. “Yes, I can do that. In my veins runs one of the most powerful strains of vampire blood, gifted to me by Marcus. But remember, because of its potency, it may be beyond their magic to prevent you from becoming a vampire.”

  “That is a risk I am glad to take,” I said, pulling him into my arms. “Take my blood, now…”

  His bite stung my neck, but again, I felt an incredible sexual rush as he sucked from me.

  I tore at his clothing until we were both naked. My hot skin pressed tightly against his cool flesh, our cocks throbbing as our bodies writhed together in our rapturous embrace. He pulled back from my throat, his eyes glazed with a different kind of lust, the kind that I would eventually come to know and experience for myself—the bloodlust. With enormous control, he turned from me, and with his fangs still exposed, bit deeply into his wrist then held it to my lips.

  “Drink now, Joseph. Drink deeply and become stronger than your enemies.”

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  I grabbed his hand and fastened my mouth on the streaming wound. I gulped at the blood, almost choking on its richness, feeling its heat infiltrate every cell of my body, bringing with it the promise of eternal life.

  Thoroughly sated, I fell back on the bed, Bernard’s body covering mine. Our lips met in a kiss born of hunger, of need and of a deep abiding passion for one another. I opened myself to him, and his hard cock pushed its way inside me, filling me completely. Bound together by his pulsing flesh, wrapped in each other’s arms, he raised me to the heights of ecstasy.

  Sensations I had not known since the time I had lain with Marcus now overwhelmed me with their intensity. I cried out and sobbed with joy and wonder as I felt myself transported by the sheer power of our passion.

  No words could adequately express the intense rapture that enveloped me as our

  bodies cleaved together in a union that seemed to me both spiritual as well as physical. The power of the desire he instilled in me was overwhelming. I felt as if I was drowning in his flesh, that he was in possession not only of my body, but also of my soul. Every part of me yearned for his touch even though it was almost too much to bear. Every fibre in my being was aflame with lust and desire.

  A long wrenching cry, stifled by his mouth on mine, was torn from me as I climaxed, my orgasm gushing from me, dizzying me with its power. A moment later, Bernard’s body stiffened, his arms tightened around me and he let out a soft, shuddering moan as he filled me with his semen.

  How I l
onged for him to stay with me there in my cell, to hold him in my arms, to know every part of him and keep him by my side forever. But, it was not to be. As he pulled on his clothes, he gave me a sweet, but sad, smile.

  “They must not know what we have done,” he said, his voice low so as not to be

  overhead. “Else they will not allow me to return to you. In the meantime, I will try to devise some means of escape for us both.”

  He kissed me tenderly just before the door was pushed open, and again, he was taken from my sight.

  But it seemed that the wizards knew we had exchanged more than we should, for the following night Bernard did not come to my cell at the allotted time. Instead, Tito the one they had assigned to my care came with the sad tidings.

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  “Poor, poor vampire boy,” he snickered, handing me a goblet filled to the brim. “That’s the last of his blood you will receive, I’m afraid. You’d best drink it, if you want to survive the next few hours.”

  “What happened to him?” I asked, gazing into the dark, thick liquid.

  “He threatened the Master and demanded that he release you from our bondage. Silly boy. After we bled him, we threw him outside, just as the sun was rising. He ran off, screaming at the top of his lungs. He’s probably a little scorched lump by this time.” He cackled nastily as he looked at me, still holding the goblet in my hands. “Better drink it.

  There’s no more where that came from.”

  Bernard, I thought, forgive me for what I now do. I pray that you survived your ordeal, and that we might meet again one day.

  And then, I drank his blood.

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  J.P. Bowie

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