Chapter Twenty-Eight
I screamed as their elongated teeth sank into me, both from pain and from anger at being powerless to stop them. Ferocious rage coursed through me and fire shot out from my hands, even though they had placed themselves strategically out of my reach.
Two male demons fed from my arms, biting me over and over again in different places as they drank with relish. Pulling my hair and cranking my neck to the side, my mom was gulping the blood that sprayed from my neck into her mouth. Shelly moved around me as well, carefully cutting into my skin with an athame and letting my blood run into a jar. Struggling against them was immediately pointless. They were draining me so quickly that I could already feel heaviness seeping into my limbs.
Silently, I gritted my teeth, refusing to give them the pleasure of another outburst as they tortured me. Every muscle was taught with strain as I attempted to mentally steel myself against the excruciating onslaught. I didn't beg them to stop, though. I hoped they'd become so incredibly enraptured that they'd kill me. Death needed to happen. It was the only way I could protect Portia.
Dark circles began to crowd in at the edge of my vision and I could feel my life force slipping away. Soundlessly, I begged death to take me, praying in the same breath that it would happen quickly.
"Enough!" my mom ordered, and immediately everyone broke away from me. "Stop the bleeding," she said, and one of the men began touching my wounds, causing them to knit together.
My chin slumped against my chest, as I was too weak to hold it up. I managed to stay awake long enough to see them leave the room, and then I succumbed to the waiting darkness.
---
Oblivion became my friend. I had no way of knowing how much time had passed now, nor did I want to. The feeding frenzies had continued, and I was being force fed their demon blood along with it, vomiting severely each time they made me swallow. Poison seeped heavily through my veins—I could feel it changing me from the inside out—but I could still feel the resistance inside as my system fought the change. Occasionally regaining consciousness, my vision was blurry, but I could see the gray lines, twisting across my body where my blood was beginning to become tainted.
Weakly, I railed against the restraints that held me, a growl escaping me in frustration.
"Don't fight it, son," her voice came from behind me. "It'll be easier if you simply let it take hold."
"No," I whispered, unable to put up much of an argument. "I'll fight it to my last breath."
She sighed heavily. "I felt the same way when your father found me, but now I see that he was right. You'll be surprised how much stronger your powers will become. I think you'll enjoy it."
"Having your free will taken away didn't bother you?" I asked, trying to get under her skin. "If you're so powerful then why are you working for him? Why isn't he here instead?"
"You'll be reunited with him soon enough," she replied from her hidden spot. "As soon as you've completed the change, I'll take you to meet him. He's very excited to see you again."
"The feeling is not mutual." I groaned, another wave of nausea flooding over me. I wanted to die—anything to escape this. I thought of Portia, wishing I could slip into her mind to tell her I loved her, but I knew our connection was strong. If she were close enough to hear me, she'd feel the pain through the connection too. There was no way I could do that to her—especially if she was trying to recover from her own injuries.
I kept my mental walls firmly in place. There would be no getting in and definitely no going out. I knew if she had any sense of the fact that I was nearby or alive, she'd try to find me. Better for her to think I was dead, than to draw her here to me. It would be like signing her death warrant.
In spite of all the physical agony I was in, it was my heart that was breaking the most. Knowing my life with Portia was done hurt beyond belief. Gone was the chance of marriage, making love to her, having children of our own, our entire future had been robbed. I'd been a fool to dream of such things to begin with.
The door opened and Shelly entered holding her knife and another jar, the demon men right behind her, and I knew it was time to be tortured, yet again. Eyes rolling back into my head, I gritted my teeth against the pain and this time I succumbed to my weakness quickly, welcoming the blessed relief of darkness.
---
Thirsty. I was so thirsty. The sensation of my teeth elongating was incredible and I used them to tear into the flesh of the offered wrist in front of me. The warm blood filled my mouth, temporarily satiating me, before the hollow sensation followed behind it. It was what I wanted, but it wasn't.
"That's enough, Vance," my mom said, but I didn't release her wrist, sucking harder. "I said that's enough!" she shouted, magically sending a sharp pain through me that caused me to release her.
"I need more," I muttered, the craving almost beyond what I could bear. Tremors, like those of a junkie, uncontrollably shook my body.
"You'll get it soon enough," she replied, patting me on the shoulder. "My demon blood isn't going to be enough for you. You'll need the blood of an uncontaminated witch soon."
Portia. Her lovely countenance filled my mind. I could easily imagine her standing in front of me and my eyes zeroed in on the pulse at her neck. Desire flooded through me—desire for a taste of her rich blood.
Yes! No! My internal voice immediately countered. I wanted to weep as my thoughts wrestled with each other. It was as if my personality had completely split in two—the side that loved everything good about Portia and wanted to protect her—and the side that wanted to tear through her flesh and kill her. Terror ripped through me. I was losing this battle.
"What is going to happen to him now?" Shelly asked from her place in the corner. She sounded worried.
"Don't you worry your pretty little head about him," my mom replied. "His transition will be complete very soon and then he will be all yours, just like I promised. We'll take you with us when we leave. But I should warn you, he may be rough on you for a while. The bloodlust will rage in him, which will cause his lust to rage too. I doubt he'll let you out of the bedroom much."
Shelly smiled and gave a small half shrug. "That's fine with me," she replied, looking pleased as punch. At this point, I could hardly bring myself to care about anything but drinking blood. I could smell the difference in Shelly though, there wasn't any magic running through her veins. That fact alone made her completely undesirable to me.
"Go pack our things at the hotel," Mom ordered the other two demons. "Hopefully we can be out of here before too long." They nodded and left the room, leaving me to wonder if I'd ever even heard them speak a word while they were in my presence.
"Start cleaning him up, Shelly. We're going to need to move him shortly and he needs to look presentable in case anyone sees us. She left the room, leaving the door open and Shelly followed her out.
My strength still depleted, I let my head lag against my chest. Dozing off, I snapped awake when I felt Shelly start washing me with a cool rag.
"Why are you doing this?" I asked, struggling against the warring powers inside me as I attempted to hang on to my sanity. "Help me escape."
"I can't do that," she replied, continuing to mechanically wash my face and body. "I don't want to do that, either. You're mine now. I've wanted that for a while."
Rage boiled through me, activating my thirst even more. "I need a drink," I growled, my voice sounding gravelly. She left the room, bringing me back a glass of water. It wasn't what I needed, but I was desperate to feel something wet in my mouth. Holding it for me, she helped me guzzle it down. It didn't help at all. It only made me thirstier.
My skin felt like it was crawling with the need for blood, but slowly the sensation began to ebb. Shelly suddenly tilted, swimming in my vision.
"What was in the water?" I asked.
"Just a bit of something to help you rest. Don't worry. Your mom is trying to get some fresh blood for you."
Blood. It was the last thought on my mind as I fell asleep again.
---
"Vance?" Portia's trembling voice filled the air and I lifted my head to find her standing in front of me, a look of horror on her stricken face.
The hallucinations were getting more vivid. I didn't know what was real and what was fake anymore. I only knew I could smell her this time.
Fear shot through me. "Run!" I ordered her, not wanting her anywhere near me, or the people here. The drug Shelly had given me was still working and my head slumped to my chest. I felt myself drifting back toward unconsciousness.
Cool hands brushed my fevered skin.
"Hang in there, Vance," Portia's voice came again and I felt her fingers sliding around the manacles that held me, but I couldn't seem to wake myself.
"He's mine now!" Shelly's voice rang viciously through the air, causing me to jerk.
"I don't think so!" Portia countered.
There was a loud noise, followed by a grunt. Then the room fell silent once more. I fought to rouse myself past the drug, the scent of Portia's blood calling heavily to me.
Her cool hands rested on my arms. "Think, Portia, think!" I heard her say out loud. After a few moments, a terrible freezing cold began swirling around one of my wrists. The sound of metal hitting the concrete floor filled the room. The cold sensation moved to my other wrist, followed by both my ankles. I'd been released from the manacles, but I couldn't seem to make myself move.
Clapping filled the air, followed by the voice of my mother. "Bravo, Portia! I didn't think you had it in you."
"Who are you?" Portia asked warily.
Silence filled the air, and I found myself sinking away into oblivion once more until suddenly someone slapped me hard on the face, causing me to flinch.
"Wake up, son! We have company!" my mom ordered. I tried desperately to claw my way to the surface. "Surprise!" she continued with a laugh. "You weren't expecting to see me, were you?"
"It's been you all this time?" Portia sounded completely baffled. "Why? How?"
"I'm guessing you got the whole sob story from Vance about how I ran away with him. Well, his daddy found me and showed me what I was really missing. All that power—who could resist it? Damien and I have been looking for him ever since."
"But why?" Portia was obviously floored by this revelation, but I couldn't concentrate on what she was saying, allowing myself to drift as her words continued to seep into my mind. "You worked so hard to get him away!"
"I didn't understand the truth back then. Power is everything. And my son has plenty to spare!"
What? I had plenty of what? Nothing made sense.
"I can't imagine Damien will be too happy with you. After all, you've been feasting on his prize. Where is he?"
"Don't you worry your pretty head about that!" My mom laughed. "Damien sent me for Vance, and I've bottled plenty of blood for him. I'm taking Vance to him later, after his conversion is finished. It will be much easier to travel with him that way."
My dad. I was going to see my dad.
"How'd you get Shelly involved in all this?" Portia asked, but I was having a hard time following for an entirely different reason. All I could focus on was the scent of her blood. It smelled so incredible. I needed to have a taste, and my own pulse rose in anticipation.
"Who? That twit in the corner?" my mom asked. "She's not even a witch—just my little puppet on a string. It was easy to place a spell on her and then channel my magic through her. She had no control over her own mind."
I shifted, dragging myself to the surface, my mouth watering.
"Son! It's time to wake up! There's work to be done," Mom called again, loudly.
Slowly, I opened my eyes, my gaze narrowing in on Portia. This wasn't a dream. This was real. And I wanted to bite her hard—more than I'd ever wanted anything in my life.
"Isn't it fitting that you'll be his first kill, the one that'll help him complete his change?" Mom laughed, clearly enjoying the fear on Portia's face. "Time for dinner, son. Trust me; you don't want to pass on a fresh-blooded witch. It will taste better than anything you've ever had."
My gaze focused in on the spot where Portia's pulse fluttered rapidly at her neck. I could hear it racing, filling the room with its echo. Days strapped to this chair made me feel stiff and weak. Now was my chance to replenish all that. Slowly, I stood, briefly stretching out my muscles and began advancing toward her.
Portia swallowed nervously, highlighting her delicious looking throat even more. With every step I took toward her, she backed away, until she was plastered against the wall.
Moving closer, I pressed my body against hers, effectively pinning her there. Running a hand down one of her arms, I grasped her hand, lifting it above her head, before doing the same with the other. Both of her wrists were soon securely captured under my hand.
The full contact of her body with mine brought other intense reactions to the surface for me. Every quick breath she took made her chest heave, and loved the way it rubbed against me. Slipping a hand behind her head, I grabbed a fistful of her hair, pushing her face closer.
My mouth descended to hers and she stiffened, but didn't fight me. Instead, she opened it, giving me full access and I dipped my tongue inside to taste her there. She kissed me back, but I could feel the wetness of her tears.
"Finish her!" my mom yelled, and I pulled away, focusing on the pulsating point in her neck. My teeth naturally lengthened into fangs.
"I love you," Portia said hastily, right before I bit into her neck and a pang shot through my heart, her words slicing right through to the center of my soul. Love radiated from her, pushing past her terror, riding through our mental link and it threatened to drown me.
God help me! I thought, sanity breaking through the bloodlust at the sound of her words. Don't let me kill her!
She screamed at the pain of my bite, and her blood bubbled to the surface, rushing into my mouth. It was mind-blowing! Truly, the most wonderful thing I'd ever experienced. I could actually taste the sweetness of the magic that ran through it, and it began to add to my own strength, filling me with power. Suddenly I understood what it was to be demonic. I loved it and I wanted more. I drank heavily, gathering her power to strengthen my own as I desperately tried to maintain my focus on what needed to happen. I could not fail.
Now! The voice in my mind screamed at me. It took everything I had to wrench myself away. Turning around I propelled a large arc of flame across the room.
Screams filled the air as my mom ignited, quickly bursting into flame as her skin burned away. She stumbled and fell to her knees, crawling, and eventually stopping as her life ebbed from her. I didn't stop the flame until her bones were nothing but a pile of ash.
I slumped heavily against Portia's trembling body, so depleted I couldn't even stand. She stood completely frozen and I felt myself falling toward the floor, my vision going black as I passed out.