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Rated: 18+ · Chapter · Gothic · #1440464
The dance between Vampire and VanHelsing continue.
Blood Feud ~ Chapter Four

The space was neat to the point of austerity. It was nearly deserted, though most business offices were at this hour of night. It was dimly enough lit that little work would get done here.  These were Gabi’s first thoughts as she crossed the threshold into Lucian’s domain.
It wasn’t easy to shock Lucian Valenko, yet this mere slip of a mortal woman had done just that. She’d walked in and shaken him more than he wanted to admit. Over the years he’d had more than his fair share of women. In all shapes and sizes. Why should this one make such a ripple in his otherwise smooth life?
“I didn’t mean to intrude, but you aren’t exactly an easy man to find.” Gabrielle apologized at last.  They all knew she didn’t truly mean it.  Her anxiety was clear in the racing of her pulse and the rigidity of her body language.
“Not usually.” He admitted. Little did she know that he’d been as close as her next breath. Though he had been following her for the past three days he was still stunned by her ivory skin and the deep blue eyes.
“You certainly keep odd hours.”
“Ivan and I tend to like night life.” He admitted, knowing she wouldn’t really understand the meaning. He could almost have laughed.
“It’s nice to meet you Ivan.” She greeted.
“Not much work being done in this light.” She noted out loud.
“We were brainstorming.” Lucian answered. He reached over to adjust the dial controlling the overhead light. It wasn’t as if the UV bulbs had any power over the vampires. They simply hadn’t needed it with their keen eyesight.
“Could I speak to you in private?”
“Anything can be said in front of Ivan.”
“Good. Lets cut the bull. I want to know why you’ve been following me.”
“Following you? You must be joking.” Lucian answered, his voice light and betraying none of the anxiety he felt. It was hard to betray ones self with a racing pulse when that same person didn’t have any heart to speak of. The odd thought caught him off guard.
“I know you were outside my house the other day. I sensed it. Then, the next night I saw you. You were outside the house when I took the dog out.” She accused. There was none of the fear Lucian would have expected from such a small female. There was no drama either. It was just the flat statement of fact.
“I was refused entry into your home, that does nothing in regards to your yard.” He answered dryly.
“Are you talking about that stupid piece of work before you left? I’d like to know what that’s all about too.”
“You know what it’s about. You’re a VanHelsing aren’t you?”
“Guilty as charged.”
“Well then?”
“What … I’m supposed to believe your some sort of spook?”
“Something like that.” He agreed. Ivan managed to keep silent from his perch nearby, though his mirth was barely concealed.
“Great. I finally think I’ve found the last nice guy in New York City and all you want to do is pull some kind of prank? You seem a bit too put together for this garbage.”
“Well I’m flattered by the nice guy part.” Lucian admitted. He had to admit to a bit of irony to the fact that the last nice guy in the city was one of the walking dead.
“So, you wanted to meet the granddaughter of Gabriel VanHelsing, is that it? Was it some sort of a kick?”
“A kick? That’s putting it mildly.”
“Well I guess you had your fun. Keep away from my house, my work, and my mother. I’ll file stalking charges on you next time.”
That, Lucian suspected, would make taking care of her a bit more difficult. He’d have to be more careful from now on. He would end up frightening her more than Illia and the others could. Something had to be done. There was more than just her well being at stake, even if she didn’t realize it. 
Eyes bright with anger, Gabi turned on her boot heel and retreated from the room. The lightweight trench coat billowed softly like a gray cape around her. Full of righteousness, she was as beautiful as the Amazons of old. Though she wasn’t nearly as large, she held the strength and grace of those long gone goddesses.

“What would you like to do, Sir?” Renfield asked.
“I don’t know that we have a choice. We must keep our eyes on her.”
“Illia isn’t going to like it.”
“That’s understating the obvious, but there’s no help for it. We all know the clash is coming … it might as well be sooner rather than later.”
The man moved much more quickly than one should for his size. Boris Alinov moved as if a shadow, though at 180 pounds he was far from svelte. He slipped in through the dangerously off square doorway and into the condemned building. Though there was no light here, he needed none. He made his way through the broken furniture and debris with ease of long practice.
The stench would have knocked a human back out the door, but Boris took no notice. He hadn’t been human for a very long time. In one corner two corpses rotted together. They were bag ladies that had happened to wonder too close. No one would miss the street people so they were safe prey. They laid in a tangle of torn and tattered blankets, free from the pain and filth of life.
Moving from one room to another, it was much the same, little light and the rotting leftovers of meals past. Most were homeless, so little danger. They were all careful here of alerting anyone to their presence.
To that end there were also the ravaged bodies of rodents, dogs, and other animals from when they were able to calm their more dangerous appetites. Even empty bags from blood banks were in evidence, when they suffered lean times. Lean times were only due to their careful planning, not from lack of choice or ability.
He found the others sitting around on dilapidated couches and chairs. There were lit candles to throw eerie shapes on to the walls. They morphed into hellish figures that seemed to please those present. It was all in a night’s work. It didn’t matter at all to Boris.
“She showed up Master.” Boris reported. Illia’s blue eyes glowed with an unholy light. He was obviously pleased by the report. His pearly fangs gleamed in the fire light, accenting their deadly sharpness.
“Good. It’s what we were waiting for.”
“She wasn’t there long.”
“It wouldn’t take long. It’s obvious who she is. It’s also certain that our dear Lucian has some connection to her.”
”Like what connection?” Sofia asked, obsidian eyes narrowing dangerously. She was just one of several ladies in waiting who had gathered around Illia Koresh and the power he exuded. Granted, she was the most beautiful.
“He actually cares for the human twit.” Illia laughed. The sound was as evil as any heard on earth. The cold sound would have been similar to the hounds of hell rumbling for food.
“That is truly pathetic.” Sofia agreed. She rose and crossed to Illia and slipped into his lap.
Few would have approached him without his beckoning. She was given this high praise due solely to her beauty. Dressed only in a lacy robe, Sofia’s soft curves were as lush and lovely as they had been on her twentieth birthday more than a hundred years previous. Her mocha skin shimmered in good health in spite of her death.
She purred in a sickening, hollow facsimile of joy. They began following the motions most held as outward signs of affection. He suckled a pouting nipple through the sheer lace. She arched in a farce of true emotion, though for sure the physical reactions where there. No signs of their rotting core were visible as the mating ritual ensued.
“We will finish her off, My Pet. You have no worries. Then we finish off Lucian. There will be no one left to keep us in check.”
“Then we will all have what we want.” She gasped as one skilled finger pushed inside of her. Her claw like nails dug into Illia’s neck, though no blood erupted the surface.
It was the power at work far more than their shared, cold flesh.  They had no emotions left after the decades and centuries of lifelessness.  It was neither pain nor pleasure that had them crying out as their bodies joined … it was the sharing of power, and their plans to acquire more.

© Copyright 2008 S. L. Britton (jovidiva at Writing.Com). All rights reserved.
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