The Nightlife: New York
Page 27

The sun had dropped below the horizon an hour ago, and yet he did not rise. She felt vulnerable out in the city. She was unsure of the final outcome with the police last night. She scooped Aaron to her and carried him home. It took an hour to reach her apartment as she moved steadily and cautiously through the alleyways, taking great care to avoid being seen in their blood-drenched, alarming appearance.
She toweled Aaron off then bathed herself and waited for him to arise. By ten p.m., three hours after sunset, she became panic-stricken. She decided to feed him her blood. She could think of nothing else to help him. She cut her wrist and placed it to his mouth. He didn’t move, didn’t react like he should have. She rubbed it around on his lips and nose, smearing it all over, tempting him to feed.
At the point where she thought for sure something was seriously wrong, he reacted, clamping his hands around her arm as he sunk his fangs in deep. A violent chomp. His jaw locked down with painful force, digging his canines in all the way to the bone. The wonderful side-effects of his venom helped offset the pain of his violent response. As usual, his venom packed a wallop, heating her erogenous zones and bringing her to a toe-curling orgasm. She warmed to it, panting hard and fast as he brought her to a peak and kept on going. When she had climaxed twice and began to feel lightheaded from blood loss, she commanded him to STOP. It took her a moment to catch her breath. Her head spun from the intense experience.
She lay atop his naked body on the bed looking into his eyes, searching for a sign he was in there somewhere. He appeared cognizant. He seemed aware of her as he held her gaze.
“Aaron can you understand me ... Talk to me please.” She desperately needed to hear his voice.
He could barely speak in a hoarse, croaked reply. “Unghh … my throat really hurts. You bit me hard last night. How are you? You were in really bad shape. I wasn’t sure if you’d make it.”
“Mon dieu, I was so worried. You were so still. I was afraid …”
She smiled a huge fang-filled grin and hugged him close, kissing him full on the lips. “I am fine. Really. My dress is completely ruined, and my shoulder still hurts, but the wounds are mostly healed.” She smiled at him with embarrassment, rubbing her shoulder and moving her arm in a circular motion.
“Aaron … what happened to the policemen?” She pulled her blonde curls behind her ear and shifted her legs as she straddled him, sitting up halfway.
“I’m not really sure. It’s kinda fuzzy, like a dream. It might be easier to show you.”
Michelle accepted his invitation, delving into his mind as he opened wide to their psychic bond and recalled all the events of the night before. She relived, with him, the harrowing race through the streets to make his way to the hotel. He was so damn powerful and he moved so fast it was disorienting. She went along for the ride through his attack on the detectives, reveling in their slaughter and the wondrous sensation of draining every last drop of Konowicz’s blood.
She flew through the night with him as he raced across the rooftops, her own body in his arms, seeking refuge. In the basement of the abandoned building she tasted her own blood as he licked her wounds to help cleanse and stop the bleeding. And then she lived through the most vicious fight she’d ever been in. Aaron fought for his life against a crazed, half-dead vampire driven insane with the need for blood.
He was winning the battle. He clawed, scraped and gouged at the lunatic beast in his arms trying to get at his throat. Then she used her power of compulsion to hold him still while she tore out his jugular vein and satiated herself on his blood. She was there with him till the moment he passed into unconsciousness from blood loss and the trauma of her unrestrained assault. She felt how he sensed his own death was near, but was unable to save himself for the power she held over him.
Michelle cried out. She collapsed onto his chest, tears of blood streaming down her face. “Ah, la vache! Oh Aaron, please forgive me. I was not aware. I didn’t know what I was doing!”
She buried her face in his chest, unable to look him in the eyes, and sobbed from the unwanted memories of all the horror and trauma she put him through. He held her, stroked her hair and shushed her, offering comfort for her misery.
“I would never hurt you like that on purpose.” She looked up, pleading with her eyes for understanding.
But she could no longer deny the truth. She had tried to kill him, and it wasn’t the first time. She had done it before when she’d attacked him in the middle of their lovemaking. It was the luck of the draw and his powerful vampire physique that allowed him to survive.
Despite all that she had done, he wasn’t angry, he forgave her. She never had to ask forgiveness. It had already been given. He loved her too much to stay angry.
It poured out without thought. She blurted it out, unable to hold back the powerful well of emotion, “I love you Aaron. I need you. I need you to love me. Say it … tell me how much you love me.” She clung to him in desperation.
“I love you, Michelle, and I would give you my life if you asked for it.” His mind still wide open, she knew the truth of his words. She need not fight for his blood. He’d have given it to her willingly, if she asked.
She kissed him with a need so powerful and all-consuming it was unbearable.
* * * *
Aaron kissed her back, holding her tightly as he rolled her over, pinning her beneath him with an unbreakable grip. He stopped his frantic kissing only long enough to sink his fangs into her neck with love and passion as he entered her slowly, gradually filing her womb with his engorged cock. Being in love was the biggest turn-on he’d ever known. Buried deep inside her, he released his bite and looked her in the eyes, “Say it again!”
He pinned her arms above her head and trapped her beneath him, her robe wide open exposing her breasts. With a shift of his weight he slammed in deep to her core.
She gasped in surprise, a spark of fear in her eyes. He had her trapped. She couldn’t move unless he allowed it. With tears of blood welling in her eyes she cried, “Aaron, I beg you, please forgive me! I’m sorry I hurt you!”
“No, you silly woman, tell me again that you love me! I want to hear you say it over and over!”
He thrust into her moist heat faster and faster frantically making love to her as she cried out repeatedly, “I love you! I love you!”
He pounded her relentlessly, going at it with a vigor that shouldn’t exist in a man who had almost died several hours ago.
“Je t’aime Aaron! Mon amour pour toi est éternel!”
She drove him mad with her guttural cries of eternal love. They tumbled and rolled over and over, off the bed, across the floor, up against the wall, atop the dresser, smashing the vanity mirror. Like animals they grunted and growled their way to an explosive peak. “Ahhh plus! plus! plus!” She cried out for more.
They orgasmed together, biting over and over, and eventually collapsed onto the floor in a heap of twisted limbs.
She stroked him all over his arms and shoulders purring into his ear. “I will always love you Aaron. I want you so much. J'ai envie de toi.”
Her proclamation of eternal love filled him with indescribable joy. Her mind was wide open to their bond, her love pouring over him like a wondrous fountain of light. He had attained nirvana. His universe aligned perfectly with the knowledge that their love was mutual.
A great weight lifted from his shoulders, a burden he hadn’t realized was there. He felt invincible. The whole world was his for the taking, as long as she remained at his side.
* * * *
Michelle meditated upon her new life with its confusion of contradictory feelings. She hadn’t experienced such turmoil of emotion since all those years ago in France. It seemed a lifetime ago. She felt terrified by the uninhibited violence Aaron displayed at the hotel. And more than a little intimidated by the phenomenal physical superiority he demonstrated in those adrenaline-soaked adventures flying through the city at incredible velocity. It had been like entering the mind and body of a wild animal on rampage, but with the added boost of unnatural strength.
Michelle had never imagined how powerful the unchained beast lurking inside Aaron truly was. He could have taken on an army of soldiers. He could definitely take her.
In spite of her shock, she felt a wellspring of love and ecstatic joy. He was alive after all he had been through. His humanity and purity of spirit seemed untainted by those horrid experiences. Michelle felt an indescribable happiness at having the miracle of Aaron in her life. She feared she didn’t deserve such a blessing. His only care upon waking from the massacre of the night before was for her wellbeing. He didn’t even fault her for trying to kill him––and damn near succeeding.
For the first time in many, many years, Michelle felt secure and safe. She was no longer alone in this cold, harsh world. She had a mate, a companion, a protector, a vicious warrior to fight her battles. She truly loved him for all that he was, and more importantly, all that he wasn’t. The aching loneliness of her solitary nightlife had been replaced with a radiant and wonderful existence. He supplied her life with a vital, missing ingredient, that ‘je ne sais quoi’, an indescribable something special. A ‘raison d’ être’, a reason for being.
* * * *
CHAPTER 22
As the nights flowed past without incident following the Ramada Inn massacre, Aaron became aware of a new presence co-existing within his psyche, an aggressive, violent personality he dubbed the Predator. The Predator lurked there just below the surface of his mind, waiting. Aaron knew this was the entity that had possessed his faculties, his mind and body, during the attack on the detectives. He recognized this elusive thing within was simply a much baser, primitive part of his own mind.
The Predator watched people, perusing through their thoughts, intentions, and movements, a semi-conscious surveillance system keeping tabs on every detail of his waking life. The Predator made constant assessments out the corner of Aaron’s eyes, checking the exits, watching his back, keeping vigil for any potential threat.
The Predator seemed to have its own set of emotions apart from Aaron’s. It functioned with a baser, more primitive reaction to people, places, things, involving urges to fight, defend, attack, feed, or to simply enjoy the pleasure of moving at fantastic speeds through the night air, rejoicing in its agility and prowess.