Midnight Thirsts: Erotic Tales Of The Vampire. Michael Thomas Ford
into a song, as it would sound recorded and mixed with the best production values money could buy; and the sheer beauty of it took her breath away.
And then it was gone as quickly as it had come.
Her heart was thumping.
What the fuck?
She tried to catch her breath as her mind tried to recapture the ghost of the sounds, seeking them through the recesses and dark corners of her mind. It had sounded so beautiful, her poetry and the notes mixing together as though it had always been meant to be a song, meant to be sung and felt and experienced.
“It’s a beautiful song,” Nigel said pleasantly, his voice echoing distantly.
“How—how—” She stared at him. This didn’t make any sense—none—and her brain was rebelling against it; he couldn’t be telling her the truth; he couldn’t be.
He tapped his right temple. “The brain, Rachel, the brain. Its potential is limitless.”
Trembling, she sat back down, her hand on the railing for balance.
“To be able to use the true power of your mind you have to cut off what makes you human.” He went on. “Rage, anger, jealousy, the darker emotions—those are what tether you to your primitive nature. It is those you have to divorce yourself from, train yourself not to feel, in order for your mind to be free. You don’t have to be an immortal to be able to use your power—although it helps…. Immortality gives you the freedom to understand how little these things matter. But it also exacts a price—one that Gunther was unwilling to pay.”
“What…?” She struggled to form words. Her skin was tingling.
“We don’t have much time.” Nigel took her hand. “Gunther has blocked me—I cannot see into his mind. But he won’t be guarded against you, Rachel.”
“But—” She stared at him. “Why me?”
“Because you are connected to Philip. You can find Philip.” Nigel sighed. “It is through you that I was able to find him. I know Gunther is here in New Orleans—that much I can sense. I sensed his exultation at finding Philip—the same exultation he felt when he first found him so long ago. I cast my mind out over the city, and it was through you that I found Philip…which is why I came to your little coffee shop.”
“I can’t—” She shook her head. “I—”
“But you can.” He took a deep breath. “There is a way.”
Somehow, she knew she wasn’t going to like this.
“I have to drink from you.” He gave her a sad look. “And while I drink, you draw on my power with your mind.”
“No!”
“You have to trust me, Rachel. It’s the only way to save Philip.”
She stared at him, her mind racing, random thoughts coming and going.
This is crazy, this is crazy, this is crazy; the words went through her mind over and over again as another cab drove by, but the sound of its engine didn’t break the spell or whatever it was she was feeling; none of this made sense, but somehow, in spite of herself, she found herself believing the old man; it all made a weird kind of sense somehow, something she couldn’t define; it was almost too much for her mind to process, and yet she could sense the truth in his words.
If Philip is in danger…
Vampires? Nightwatchers?
No, none of this was real. It had to be a dream.
She closed her eyes and made her decision.
Trembling, she held out her wrist to him.
Chapter Five
Something wasn’t quite right.
Philip struggled to get up to his elbows.
What—what the hell is going on here? He shook his head. Everything looked wrong—blurry, out of focus, like he’d been drinking too much. His head was aching—a dull pounding that felt like someone was stabbing an ice pick into his left temple. The pleasure was gone, as if it had never been there. I need to get out of here; I’m in danger; something’s wrong; something’s very wrong here…
Gunther dropped down to his knees and grabbed Philip’s legs firmly, lifting them up and apart. Philip slipped off his elbows, lying flat on his back. His erection was fading away.
“No,” Philip whispered, “no.”
Gunther either didn’t hear him or didn’t care. He was smiling as the head of his cock found the passage to Philip, probing, pushing, forcing.
Philip forced himself to go rigid, to tighten, to close himself off to the intrusion.
Gunther smiled at him as he stopped. “So you want to play it that way, mein Liebchen? You want it to be rape?”
“No, I want this to stop.” Philip shook his head. “Something’s not right, something…” his voice trailed away as he looked up into Gunther’s eyes, and he was drowning in the blue pools of light. “I…”
His voice broke off into a scream as Gunther forced his cock inside. Philip resisted, squeezing, trying to keep him out.
Gunther smiled. “Rape it is then, mein Liebe.” He reached down and slapped Philip hard across the face.
His ears rang, eyes filling with involuntary tears. “Please…”
“You cannot stop me,” Gunther whispered, then forced himself deeper inside.
Philip’s mouth opened and closed. It felt like he was being ripped apart, torn in two.
The pain, oh, God, the pain…
He felt himself losing consciousness; everything was swimming out of focus; all he was aware of was the pain—dear God, the pain, it hurt so fucking bad; it had never hurt like this before, not even the first time, with his high school English teacher, when all they’d had for lube was spit; this pain was unbearable; everything was out of focus and red, spinning out of control; everything was out of control…
And through the red haze of pain, he could hear Gunther laughing.
Nigel bit into her wrist.
She gasped.
The pain was excruciating at first, exploding into her consciousness like a firecracker. It was piercing, like the time she’d had her nose pierced, and her entire body shuddered at this invasion. For a brief moment she flashed back to when she was fourteen and she was with her then boyfriend—what was his name? You aren’t supposed to forget the name of the one who takes your virginity—what was his name? She was naked and flat on her back, her legs spread, and he was entering her, and it hurt—oh, God, Mary, Jesus, and Joseph, it hurts…
And then the pain faded away and it began to feel better, her entire body relaxing, going with it, and ripples began going out, washing out over her body, ripples of tingling excitement; oh, my God, this is better than ecstasy…
Her wrist burned as though on fire.
She could feel the power surging through her.
Focus, Rachel; you have to focus, Nigel’s voice echoed in her brain.
She let go of the pleasure.
Open your mind, Rachel; open your mind and reach out for Philip.
She wasn’t at first sure what he meant, but then she began to relax, and she felt it—she felt her brain awakening, like it had never truly been awake before.
She felt like she was falling.
Falling.
Images crowded her mind, flashing past her consciousness like a crazed kaleidoscope, one scene blurring into another so quickly that all she could see were vague shapes and