CHAPTER 35

CHAPTER 3 5

JULIANUS

End of the line

THERE WERE FEW hookers out at this early hour, but I made my choice quickly and approached the woman. My first thought upon awakening was Myra, how I wanted to bring her back to my house for another session like our last one. Just thinking about her sweet lips wrapped around my length got my cock painfully hard.

The trouble with that scenario was, I was ravenous when I awoke and I knew I wouldn't be able to control myself around her unless I fed first, which is how I ended up in the alley with a hooker.

"Anything in particular you want?" she asked.

"Just fuck," I growled, opening my pants and shoving my cock up under her short skirt. Her cunt was loose and wet, and while it wasn't my preference, it did the job. I pumped into her a dozen times until I could feel my orgasm building, then let go with a grunt before bending over to sink my teeth into her throat.

"Oh baby, that's so hot," she moaned.

I wanted to silence her, but instead I brought my mouth to her ear after I had drunk my fill and hissed a compulsion.

"Forget me."

I left her staggering against the wall and headed off in the direction of the college.

There were still students milling around in the quad, but I didn't see Myra among them. I'd half expected her to be out waiting for me, and while that would have made things easier, I was glad she had heeded my warning and stayed indoors. It just meant I would have to go up to her room to collect her.

I stopped outside the door of her room and listened. No heartbeat, no breathing inside. She wasn't in there, so where could she be? Had she gone to the cafeteria to eat dinner with her roommate? I was loathe to make an appearance there, but I would do so to keep her from wandering around outside alone.

I left the dormitory and descended the stairs, turning in the direction of the cafeteria. I didn't see the fist headed for me until it was inches from my jaw. I reached up on instinct and grabbed the hand, twisting it back to pull the body around to face me. To say the least, I was surprised at his identity.

"Fucker," he growled and bunched up his fist for a second try. "Stay away from her!"

So my suspicions last night were confirmed; he did remember me. I don't know how that was possible; I had never had a victim break a compulsion before.

I decided to play dumb to see how far this went. "Do I know you? "

He got right up in my face, his lips curled back in a snarl, his eyes maniacal. "You bet your ass you do, and I know you. You're the fucker who assaulted me. I'm going to have your ass thrown in jail."

I quirked a brow. "Can you prove that?"

He tunneled his hand through his hair and uttered a groan of frustration. "Stay. The. Fuck. Away. From. Her."

A couple of students walking past looked in our direction, though no one had made our encounter their business yet. I wanted to keep it that way, so instead of doing something that would escalate the situation, I backed up a step and regarded him before replying, "She's a grown woman who can make her own choices."

"Oh yeah? Well I don't think that choice will be what you thought."

"No? And what gives you that idea?"

He stepped back into my space. "Because I told her. That's right, fucker, she knows all about you now."

I grabbed the front of his shirt and pulled his face to mine. "Where is she?" When he didn't answer right away, I tightened my grip on him, my fingers itching to move to his throat. "Where. Is. She?"

He tried to shrug away from me. "She went up to her room."

"She isn't there now."

He looked confused. "I saw her go in. I didn't…I mean I wasn't watching the whole time. I figured she would stay in for the night, but she could have–"

I let go of him and shoved him away. "Useless."

I turned and stomped off toward the gate. Ron ran after me, grabbing my arm.

"I'm coming with you. "

I spun on him, my expression, I knew, murderous. "No. You're not. You've already fucked things up enough."

I left him standing there, knowing he would probably follow me and not caring. I wasn't sure where Myra had gone, but I had a pretty good idea. The fact that she was running to me rather than away told me I at least had a chance to reach her.

? ? ?

There was a motorcycle in the driveway when I got to my house. I took a moment to assess the situation, reaching out with my senses to scan the house. Two heartbeats, one slow and weak, the other strong and steady. The heartbeat of an immortal.

So much the better. I was tired of playing games.

I opened the front door and stepped inside, sniffing deeply. Her scent, and something else.

Blood.

I crossed the foyer and walked through the sitting room to the fireplace. I'd been planning for this moment since I left Genoa. It had taken years of searching, but I'd finally found a witch with the power to do what I needed.

"I was told you were the man to see. I know you have it. I can pay your price."

"It's not about the money."

"Then what?"

"Call it curiosity. Why would you need it?"

"Because as much of a scourge as I am on this earth, there are those who are far worse."

The old man nodded as though satisfied with my answer and moved behind the counter, pulling down a dusty green bottle. "I've had this for over sixty years. It was passed down from my mother, and her mother before her."

He pulled the stopper from the bottle and poured some of the contents into a slender vial, taking care to close both containers tightly.

"You've never used it?"

"Never had cause to. You're the first of your kind I've ever encountered."

"Why would you have something that could kill us if you don't believe we exist?"

"Didn't say I don't believe. I said I'd never encountered one." He handed me the vial, his eyes meeting mine without fear. "A vampire killed my aunt. That's when my grandmother created this."

"So you've never used it?"

"My grandmother did. She tracked and killed the vampire that ate my aunt."

I quirked a brow. "By herself?"

He grinned. "She was a resourceful witch."

I nodded. "How does it work?"

"Like any poison. One touch in a wound is fatal. And I have just the thing to deliver it."

I tapped the wooden panel next to the fireplace and opened the secret compartment, pulling out the bundle I'd been carrying around for close to 300 years. Waiting for just this opportunity. Inside were the final pieces of my revenge. I unwrapped the cloth and set both items on the table.

The dagger was slim and razor sharp, created as a single-strike weapon. I uncorked the vial and dipped the tip inside, coating the blade in the thick, noxious liquid before pushing the stopper back into the vial. Tucking the dagger behind my back, I started up the stairs, following the trail of rose petals that led to my bedroom .

He was standing over Myra on my bed, looking like some divine Hell's Angel with his blond curls and black biker leathers. Only the cold void of his ice-blue eyes gave away his true nature.

"Christopher."

"Julianus."

I took in the scene, clamping down on my rage. This was not the time to let emotions cloud my judgment.

Despite all my precautions, I guess I shouldn't have been surprised that he had found her. And once he did, he would have noticed the same thing I did about her. Being the sadistic shit that he was, he would have wasted no opportunity to exploit it.

Her wrists and ankles were bound with my own neckties, another one stretched across her mouth. Her clothes had been ripped off, exposing her milky flesh, which was covered in fresh bite marks. I felt my cock respond to the sight. Try as I might, there was no escaping my nature, the desire to plunder her body surging through my veins. Focus, I reminded myself.

I sniffed; thankfully there was no scent of cum, meaning Christopher hadn't yet violated her sexually. The blood on her forehead indicated a head wound. Her heartbeat was thready, probably from blood loss. She would require medical attention, but at least she was still conscious.

She stared at me wide-eyed, her sobs muted by the gag, and for a moment it was another face I saw. Another set of eyes that entreated me to help. I pushed that failure from my mind.

"Why are you here?" I demanded of Christopher, my voice surprisingly calm.

His lips curled up in a condescending grin. "Isn't it obvious? I brought you a present. Consider it a peace offering." He leaned over the bed, his fingers trailing through a lock of Myra's hair, and I had to swallow a possessive growl.

"Amazing, isn't it? She looks just like your former lover. Did you tell her?"

He let go of the hair and stalked around the end of the bed, his movements slow and languorous like the predator he was, his eyes never leaving mine. "Do you still think about what you did to her? Sweet, innocent Rosetta? How you ravaged her body and swallowed her life like a mindless beast?" He chuckled. "I have to say, sometimes I miss Anastacia's sense of humor."

"You must have a death wish. Remember what I told you the last time I saw you?"

He threw back his head and laughed. "Still holding a grudge, I see." He plucked a handful of petals from the bed and let them sift through his fingers. "The roses were a nice touch, don't you think? Be honest, for a minute you wondered if it was her, didn't you?"

"No. She's dead." Just like you're going to be, I thought as I tightened my grip on the dagger behind my back.

"Are you sure? Because people have been known to escape that prison."

It was my turn to smile. "I questioned the bishop himself afterward. She died in the flames screaming like the coward she was."

He gave a nonchalant shrug. "Ah well. It was worth a shot."

I had to keep him talking until he was close enough to strike, figuring I only had one shot to get this right. "So you're borrowing her tricks now? "

"You're the one still keeping captives, pretty boy. Did you think I wouldn't find them?"

"I didn't think you would be foolish enough to come here after what happened to Anastacia. If you ask me, the roses were a touch unoriginal. Can't come up with your own ideas?"

"Who do you think gave her the idea for that bloody garden?" he hissed, stepping closer, his eyes imperious, his sudden anger palpable. "I taught her everything she knew." He pointed at me as though to emphasize his next words. "I made that bitch."

I couldn't hide my surprise. "You? But she treated you like…"

"An inferior?" he spat, his voice dripping with disdain. "Yes, sweet little Anastacia. She was a common whore when I found her. I used her and left her for dead. Imagine my surprise when she survived." He began to pace away from me. "I turned her in a dirty alley without her knowledge then watched her grow into her cruelty. It was me who helped her kill the real Conte and Contessa of that manor. And then she set up her little harem of captives. Thinking she was better than everyone else. Thinking she was better than me!"

It was the most emotion I had ever seen from him. He grew quiet for a moment, as though lost in the memory, before emitting a chilling laugh. "Did you think I mourned her passing? I wanted to kill her myself a dozen times over the years."

Interesting. "Why didn't you?"

He shrugged. "Eternity can be lonely, as I'm sure you've learned by now. There are so few of us in the world, and Anastacia was…convenient."

Part of me sympathized with him. In all the years I had wandered this earth after my conversion, I had met only two other vampires, neither of whom were interested in establishing a friendship. In fact, one threatened to destroy me if I didn't leave his territory. After making my home here, I understood his point of view. Christopher's reckless invasion of my city was reason enough to kill him, but there was our history and the vow I had made to him, not to mention his violation of Myra.

"Make your move, pretty boy," he sneered, stepping closer to the foot of the bed. "I'll even make it easy for you."

He reached down and grabbed Myra's ankle, yanking her toward him. She whimpered and tried to squirm away, but his grip was like iron.

My first instinct was to rush him, but I quelled that impulse. That would play right into his hands. Instead, I took a deep breath and analyzed the situation.

Christopher was older and more powerful than me. Apparently, after what I'd just learned, he was more powerful than even Anastacia, but I had the weapon that could destroy him. I just needed the right opportunity.

My eyes flicked to Myra, as if to reassure her. I knew she was scared, but she wasn't in any immediate danger. He was just trying to provoke me.

"Having second thoughts?" he asked. "You have to know I'll kill her. Leave her in the street just like the others." He released Myra and sauntered toward me. "You, however, I'll keep. I wasn't lying when I told Anastacia I liked you. Why do you think I looked for you? And then when you slaughtered her household, I was sure of it. We're a lot alike, you and I. We could be…companions."

Did I detect a note of hope in his tone? Not enough to make me care. "I'm nothing like you."

His expression grew colder. "Are you so sure, pretty boy?" He was almost within striking distance now. "You're a monster, just like me. Why fight your nature? "

When he reached out a hand to touch my cheek, I whipped the dagger around and held it up under his chin.

"Don't."

His eyes widened as a slow smile crept over his lips. "Ooh. Should I be scared?"

He started to bat my hand away but I pushed, sinking the tip of the blade into his flesh until a bright bead of blood appeared. I didn't know if it was enough or how long the poison would take to affect him. Apparently it wasn't instantaneous, because he closed his hand around mine and tried to force the dagger away. I pushed harder, sinking it in deeper, and he leaned closer, his eyes glittering with that same salacious glee I'd seen when I threatened his life all those years ago.

"You're my kind of crazy. Lucky for you, I like a little blood play." His tongue flicked out and licked my lips. "Is this how you thought to kill me?"

I knew the smile I showed him was as cold and empty as his own. "It's only the start."

I hated him with every fiber of my being, but I couldn't deny the sexual attraction I felt for him. It was my particular curse, and becoming a vampire had only made it worse. We craved sex as much as we did blood. His hand dropped to my chest, sliding lower across my abdomen to close around my stiffening cock, and I didn't fight him.

"Remember how much I liked to suck this?" he whispered against my lips. "That and your sweet ass."

Without thinking, I crashed my lips into his, shoving my tongue into his mouth, pulling him closer while I pressed the dagger deeper into his flesh, his blood now spilling over my hand. He met my thrusts with his own tongue while pressing his body closer, grinding his cock against mine. When he reached up and grabbed the hilt of the dagger, I released it, letting it drop to the floor, figuring it had either done its job or the old man's poison was useless.

"Save that for later," he panted. "We can use it on the girl."

I gave myself over to the kiss, allowing him to believe he had won. He turned me around and inched me toward the bed while peeling out of his jacket. Blood flowed down his neck, soaking the fabric and wetting his hands. He smeared it across my lips and shoved his fingers into my mouth.

"Taste me."

Blood from humans was a necessity, life-giving and meaty, but blood from another vampire was transforming. I hadn't had it since my last tryst with Anastacia, but the taste remained in my consciousness. Christopher's blood sent fire sizzling through my veins, and I couldn't stop myself from lowering my head to lap at the wound on his neck.

He chuckled deep in his throat. "Now, now, pretty boy, it's only fair that you let me do the same to you."

He shoved me back on the bed and was on me in an instant, his teeth tearing at the flesh of my neck. I turned my head and met Myra's frightened gaze, imagining how this must look to her. Regardless of what happened here tonight, there was no going back to the way things were between us.

Christopher tore at my clothes, pulling off my hoodie and shoving my jeans out of the way to release my cock while his mouth continued its assault on my neck. I could have fought him, held him off until the poison did its deadly work, but the truth was, I hadn't had this kind of raw, abandoned interaction with another person since those long ago days in Anastacia's bedroom.

As much as I may want to deny it, Christopher was right about one thing. In this way, I was just like him. It was in my nature, even before my conversion. I had always been a sensual creature, always looking for my next fuck, just like Anastacia had once told me. It's why she picked me. Whether she saw it in me on the street that night all those centuries ago, or she discovered it in her bed, she knew I was ruled by my cock.

Even now, with the threat of death imminent and Myra's life on the line, all I could think about was getting myself off. It ruled my nights every bit as much as the bloodlust.

Christopher had apparently drunk his fill of my blood and was looking to satisfy his other appetites. He wriggled out of his pants and pushed me over onto my stomach, his hands squeezing my cheeks and teasing my entrance.

"This isn't going to be gentle," he murmured against my ear. "I've been waiting a long time to reclaim this ass."

I gasped when he rammed his dry cock inside me. He growled and leaned against my back, his breath now coming in slow gulps, and I realized he was slowing. That he was running out of steam.

That he was dying.

"What…did you…do to me?"

I smiled to myself and shoved back against him, working his cock in deeper, still chasing my own satisfaction. He pulled out and tried to stand, but he was clumsy and fell over his own feet, tumbling to the floor. I waited a moment to ensure he was down before sliding off the bed and standing over him, watching him fight for breath like a fish out of water, his pale face drawn, his ice blue eyes wide with shock.

I took my time pulling up my pants, observing his suffering with cold detachment. He grabbed for his throat, as though he could push the blood back inside, then extended the bloody hand up to me. Like I would help him. I squatted down next to him and smiled.

"I told you what would happen the next time I saw you."

"H-how?"

"A little something I picked up." I leaned closer, my mouth against his ear. "When you get to Hell, tell Anastacia hello for me."

The poison, once it started, worked fast. In a matter of minutes, Christopher was truly dead and my revenge was at long last complete. I said a little prayer for Rosetta over his body, then straightened up and looked at her likeness on my bed.

Myra needed medical attention, but I was at a loss as to how I would get her to the hospital. I didn't own a car, and the last thing I needed was to have an ambulance show up here with Christopher's bloodied body on the floor. Even if I could claim self-defense, there would be more questions once he was taken to the morgue. Questions I couldn't answer without implicating myself, and my self-preservation wouldn't allow for that. Spending eternity in a prison cell or a government lab didn't sound all that pleasant.

In the end, I decided to take her someplace where she could be found and call someone to pick her up. I had just the person in mind, which was fine, since I was sure she no longer wanted anything to do with me.

I untied Myra and got her dressed. She didn't fight me, didn't say anything. At that point she was barely conscious. Maybe the stress of her ordeal with Christopher had finally caught up to her.

I picked her up and slung her over my shoulder, carrying her out of the house and down the street, taking care to stay in the shadows so as not to arouse suspicion. The campus was a fifteen-minute stroll on most nights, though I'd never made the trek while carrying a body. The biggest problem was getting there without being spotted. Between the city cops and campus security, I knew everyone was on high alert due to Christopher's recent escapades and my close call at the house the other night.

I managed to get onto the campus and across the quad without incident, setting Myra down on the floor just inside her dormitory building. I then fished her phone out of her back pocket and scrolled through the contacts until I found the one I was looking for. Luckily, it was answered on the first ring.

"Myra? Where have you–"

"Dorm. Help her."

I disconnected, cutting off the response, and tucked the phone into her hand before leaving. It wasn't right, it wasn't what she deserved, and part of me felt guilty about doing it that way, but the truth was, Christopher was correct when he said it.

I was a monster.