Shattered Hope * Book 2, free, on going *

7. Call v

Ricky

Year: 1984, 29th May, Tuesday, 11.35 pm, Spring.

“Now, now, Miss Bernice what be the sudden fussin ‘bout?” Each trembling, backward step Bernice took made me chuckle. Without looking I flicked the door behind me shut with one foot.

Bernice squeaked as her back hit the wall behind her. Humans, so unaware. The air was full of her sweetness; the wet thumping of her heart an applause. The female quivered violently as I ran a finger through the flow of tears spilling from her eyes. Disappointed as I was that they were not reminiscent of Sally-Anne’s, the hue had a hint - just the tiniest tinge of red to it. A new role play was coming to mind. The hair… what colour was her hair?

“Perfect…” I sighed, slipping the hair covering off. Blond. It had all been pinned into tubes, some device to make it curled. They would have to go but I had to wait. If I started to play now I wouldn’t get anything done. “Show me to the kitchen, Bernice.” My words were whispered against her ear. The woman, cringing and clasping the dressing gown over her bulging abdomen, sobbed in terror. “Lead the way.”

I took her hand.

A little tug got her moving. A gentle one, afterall I didn’t want to break her before I got to play.

“See, wasn’t so hard, was it?” Carefully I lifted her onto the counter next to the phone. Wide-eyed, in shock, she sat wordlessly. Such a surprise that so many of these creatures became silent and incredibly compliant in the face of danger. Of course there were plenty that screamed and fought - they were just as enjoyable when I was in the mood for it. Had I wanted, I could have kept the pretence up - soothed the female when that first pulse of fear had spluttered through her veins. What was the point of such a charade when I had the invitation I needed and it wasn’t the game I wanted to play? A superior being such as my glorious self needen’t pander to these unworthy creatures. “Shhhh.”

I placed a finger to her lips before sliding my hand down to rest atop where the babe, blissfully unaware, was growing inside her. With the other hand I took the phone off the hook, holding the receiver and dialling with my pinky. Thankfully it was a button phone as opposed to one of those infernal rotary ones.

“Mr. Brown.” I stated the second he picked up. He began spluttering some superfluous formalities but I spoke over him. “Listen carefully Mr. Brown, it has come to my attention that the Brice property, that is John Brice’s decrepit farm house, changed ownership. A change that I was not informed of.” I could practically hear his slimy, enlarged heart’s rhythm increasing in tempo. “You will get me a name, Mr. Brown. The purchaser is recently deceased. I want to know how, where and why. Leave nothing out.” Mr. Brown had slipped up. He was my ‘boot on the ground’ you might say. A little human who had his fingers in the right pies but he was replaceable. As were they all. “Say hello to Mr. Brown, Bernice.”

Rubbing her bump, I held the phone so she could do as I’d demanded.

“Heh-ello Mr. B-b-b-rown.” She looked at me as she spoke.

“Good girl.” A little pat on the belly made her jump. “I’m going to be very busy now Mr. Brown.”

“Yes Master.” He swallowed.

“Are you useful, Mr. Brown?” The baby was kicking. The feeling almost made me smile.

“Yes Master.”

“I’m glad to hear that Mr. Brown. Do you want to play, Mr. Brown? Like Bernice and I are about to play?”

“No Master.”

“Then do not fail me again Mr. Brown.”

“Yes Master, thank you Master.”

“Very good Mr. Brown. You know how I like to play… ensure that this call and the next are removed.” He choked out another ‘Yes Master’. “Now say goodbye to Bernice.” Again I held the receiver in position. I was undeniably percipient of the way her eyes widened in horror. All the little twitches of emotion on her face, the thrumming of her cardiovascular system, the quickening of her breath - I’d seen it a thousand times before. If I were a mind reader I’d be privy to the singular thought that was being screamed inside that underdeveloped organ humans referred to as a brain.

Hanging up, without any delay I dialled again.

“Hello?”

“Good to hear your voice, Shalla.”

“Yours as well Master, what can I do for you?” Her tone was respectful, welcomingly so.

“I’m heading back to the Coven. Could you please organise for Dante to collect me from…” Conveniently there was a stack of mail organised under the phone in a little stand that separated the different types of correspondence. I gave Shalla the address and instructions that Dante was to give me three hours to play with my toy.

“Have fun Master.” She purred, a smile in her voice. The distinct sound of a wet tongue gliding across lips created a sensual ripple of desire in my gut. My mouth was watering for something other than a taste of Bernice but as ever I saw no reason as to why I couldn’t have both. A couple of hours would see me back amongst my kind, my Coven, my family. To each of them I would deliver the care and attention they needed but first my patient, compliant, delicious hostess.

“See, I told you I wanted to use the phone.” Placing the receiver back I slid between her legs, playfully tapping the tip of her nose. Bernice was torn; ripped between the deep instinctual terror of knowing she was prey and the confusing overlay of my kind tone, careful hands and deceiving visual cues.

“P-pp-pleeeease.” The sound came with the scent of her breath. So ripe, ready to be harvested.

“Shhh, shh, none of that Bernice.” Delicately, I brushed my hand over the softness of her cheek. “It won’t change your fate, it will just make me mad…”

To solidify the fruitlessness of any unwanted behaviours and to demonstrate how hopeless the situation was I took the granite worktop saver in one hand, snapped a piece off and showed it to her. Then I crushed the dark stone, letting it fall to the floor as crumbs.

“Do you understand me, Bernice?” My hands either side of her bump, feeling the baby wiggle inside. She squeaked in response. “Good.” I took a kiss. Bernice was unresponsive as my lips moved against hers. The lips were pure and sweet, untainted by any beauty products. With the utmost care I lifted her off the kitchen counter. In gentlemanly fashion I supported her weight, making sure she had her footing.

As if in a dream, Bernice let me lead her through the house. Following my nose I took her to the bedroom. Perching her on the mattress I began to remove all the bobby pins and tubes from the blond locks. As I worked I hummed M’venah’s favourite song. From the vanity I took a brush, sweeping it slowly through the full length. Just like I would for my loves.

“Much better.” I played with the glossy softness. “Stand up.” With my hands on her elbows I helped her rise. The dressing gown, all frills and lace, pooled at her feet after I slipped it from her shoulders. She didn’t resist when I removed the cotton nightgown or when I unclasped the brasier, freeing those heavy breasts. When my fingers grasped the elastic of her underwear the woman sniffled and went stiff but she didn’t try to stop me.

Other than the breasts with their areola and thick teats, Bernice was reminiscent enough of M’venah. It was soothing. I missed her.

I stripped in front of her. Commanding her to watch. Naked, I took her hand and skimmed it over my flesh. The firm, hairless, nippleless expanse of my chest. The defined, solid abs. The engorged length of my c**k and the swell of my testicals. All the while I pretended it was my darling M’venah.

A few gestures of my hand had her lying on her back atop the covers. With a kiss to the protruding stomach I settled next to her, curving myself to her form so I could press my face against the side of pregnant belly and sling one arm across her pelvis to cradle it.

“I miss you M’venah.” I told the bump, pretending that it was M’venah and not Bernice listening. “I wish I hadn’t left you behind. Uylesa misses you too. Uylesa won’t even leave their room. Too heavy is their heart at being separated from you, at not having been able to hold our child.” Tears ran down my face, tickling and itching as they spilled. “Time here is so strange, it runs by quicker than the Gaelap flows. You could fit several hundred of the Earth realm days into one of our own. So confusing, constantly feels as if time has gotten away from me.” A hand touched my head, a cautious touch that was clearly meant as a comfort. “I’m close though, so close my darling. Just a little longer and the portal will be open again. I will have you arms. Uylesa and I will make sweet love to you.”

For a while I stayed still, listening to the heartbeats echoing, pretending it was M’venah that was with me. Pretending that it was our child growing inside her. The beat was too fast, the skin too hot and the scent clearly a meal opposed to the delicate floral notes of my darling. Uylesa and I both longed for our missing piece but only Uylesa could openly express the sorrow of our aching hearts. As Master of the Coven, bound to all within my nest, it would not do to show weakness.

Lost in thought, I kissed the soft flesh closest to my mouth. The kisses became numerous, my hands roaming.

“M’ve…” My moan full of longing. Slipping between the human’s legs, my mind full of M’venah, the need to bury myself in our love was growing. If only Uylesa were here - the three of us tangled together, as it should be. “M’venah, my eternity.”

Eyes closed, the taught stomach beneath my fingers was alive with the pulse of the mother and the movement of the infant within. Just like M’venah had been. Ignoring the way the pulse came quicker than a Vampires ever would, ignoring the heat pouring into the air around me; hotter than any of my kind ran, I slid my length inside the slickness of the female’s s*x.

With careful movements I worked; weeping for my absent mates in the process. The pleasure was building, growing, almost at the pinnacle…

Bernice sobbed, destroying the beautiful vision I was having of M’venah beneath me. The magic was over. Spoiled by the ridiculous noises coming from the human. My role play was over. The tears dried instantly. I had none for what I considered an animal. The tears were from the pain of being separated from the completeness of my mate bond - not for my prey.

Never for my prey.