Ancient Blood: Deep Red Part 11

"Don't tell me you were lovers?" Trixie's eyes widened.

"f.u.c.k no!" Vincent doubted he'd ever felt so insulted in his life. "After what we just did on the trampoline you're asking if I ever f.u.c.ked a guy up the a.s.s?"

Trixie folded her arms across her chest and shrugged. "I never said that. With a c.o.c.k like he has, you might have been the receiver."

Fury shoved Vincent's incisors into view and he growled, grasping Trixie's upper arms and flinging her on the bed. His body covered hers and he nuzzled her neck while his hand slipped into her pants, caressing her until she gasped.

"No, you're not going to make me forget what I want to hear!" She pushed him away. "I want to know about Seraphim."

"Why the h.e.l.l are you so interested in him?"

"I'm not. I'm interested in you, and he seems to get to you."

"n.o.body gets to me, baby."

Trixie placed a hand to his cheek. "Even me?"

"You're different."

"That's nice to know." She smiled, cuddling closer. "Now tell me."

Vincent sighed. "All right. It goes back to the time when I was young. Real young. I was born in Rome's Golden Age and served under Julius Caesar as a favored guard. I was the son of a Roman Senator and considered special by other vampires because I was Immaculate. The story of the First Father had reached my parents when I was born, and everyone always treated me like I was the chosen one-the one meant to destroy him."

"You were part of his destruction."

"I wasn't the one," he stated. "I knew it was Adam Lindsay the minute I saw him, but I'll get to that later. Anyway, because of my family and being Immaculate, I was a spoiled, arrogant b.a.s.t.a.r.d used to getting everything I wanted."

"Kind of like now?" "This is serious, Trix."

Trixie held up her finger, reminding him they were undercover. d.a.m.n! Thinking about those days still f.u.c.ked him up. There was so much he wished he could change in his life, and it all started as far back as Rome.

"After Caesar was killed, I left Rome to study fighting techniques in the east and didn't return until Nero's rule. My family's name was still affluent, and my parents and I continued disappearing and reappearing as long lost relatives to disguise our vampirism and retain our wealth. It wasn't long before I was in with Nero, not only because of my family's name but because of that wild streak of mine. You know."

"Do I ever." She grinned. "Go on."

"I joined the Praetorian guard, and with my skill, in no time at all, I became a prefect."

"Weren't they like the Roman Emperor's bodyguards or something?" "Yeah. A prefect was like one of their commanders."

"Whoa," Trixie ran her fingertips over Vincent's chest, "I'm impressed, but tell me how Seraphim fits in."

"He was a gladiator. Nero's favorite. He was like a legend in his time, particularly when he fought the lions and won."

"That was a little dangerous, wasn't it? Not the lions, but possibly having them discover what he was."

"He was only interested in training, and what better way than to become a gladiator? We hated each other on sight."

"Why am I not surprised?"

"Well, I guess it wasn't so much hate as rivalry. He was the first Immaculate I'd ever met, and I was used to being the top dog, if you get what I mean?"

"Yeah. I can understand that."

"It wasn't bad enough he was compet.i.tion for the Emperor's favor, but he had women all over him, too. Most of the gladiators did. Then again, we guards weren't hurting for broads either. That was how the problems really started between me and him."

"A woman?"

Vincent drew a deep breath and nodded. How could he tell Trixie about his love for another woman? Since meeting Trixie, no one else seemed to exist for him, but at one time-and for long after-Nenet had been in his mind and heart. Nenet with her long black hair and exotic curves. Little Nenet with her fragile human const.i.tution and her large brown eyes. Nenet who never should have been forced into his bed when she so desperately loved another.

"I'm not sure I like that look on your face," Trixie said. "Who was she?"

"Her name was Nenet. She was a gift from Egypt to the Emperor. A slave dancer."

"You were hot for her?"

"I think I was in love with her."

Trixie's eyes held his. "What happened to her?"

"Seraphim and I were both with Nero when he first called her to dance. She was a little mortal-nothing to her, really, but she had something I liked. Maybe it was her fragility, her dancing, the way she didn't seem as embittered as she should about her slavery. Most of all I think it was because I saw how Seraphim looked at her. I knew he was in love with her on sight, and that made me want her, too, just to spite him..."

"Beautiful, isn't she?" Nero's black eyes glanced at Vincent.

He shrugged as he watched the woman dance, her b.r.e.a.s.t.s bare, her legs and the thatch of dark hair between them scarcely hidden by sheer fabric. The coin belt around her waist made pleasant, tinkling sounds as she swayed her hips to the music created by a group of toga-clad men positioned behind the Emperor. "For a slave."

In truth, Nenet was the most alluring creature he'd seen in years. The way she moved, the intensity of her eyes, the scent of her skin made him want to ram his c.o.c.k into her soft, mortal body until she fainted from pleasure. He listened to her pounding heart as she danced and could almost taste her blood on his tongue. Still, he wouldn't want to appear too attracted to a slave, especially since having her would be simple enough.

"And you, my friend." The Emperor glanced at Seraphimus who appeared transfixed by the dancer. The scent of his l.u.s.t hung on the air, and Vincent felt the sharp edge of anger slice his soul. "Do you find her desirable?"

"Yes." Seraphimus' voice didn't rise from its usual low tone, just above a whisper.

"Would you like to bed her?"

The gladiator's pale eyes turned toward Vincent, then the Emperor. "I would."

"Then she's yours. Once her performance is over, take her. Enjoy her. But don't forget to bring her back. She's a lovely diversion, at least until I tire of her."

"And if I want her?" Vincent's eyes held Seraphimus'. The gladiator's jaw clenched.

Nero grinned. "Let him loosen her up for you first. You and I will have other amus.e.m.e.nt tonight. Trust that you'll enjoy it."

Vincent's teeth ached to slip from their sheaths as he watched the slave girl spin and drop to her knees in front of them, her eyes fixed on Seraphimus. What was it about the b.a.s.t.a.r.d that women fawned over him? He could stare a charging bull into submission with those evil eyes of his. Why did women seem to like them so much?

Seraphimus extended his hand to the dancer, and she slipped hers into it, pressing close to his side as they left the crowd, most likely heading for the privacy of his chamber. After he soiled her, Vincent wasn't sure he'd even want to touch her.

Still, as he and Nero sucked, fondled, and rode a room full of exotically beautiful slaves, Vincent's thought kept returning to the dancer. He would have her, and please her far more than Seraphimus ever could.

"So you slept with her?" Trixie asked.

"Yeah. I didn't bite her, though, and I noticed neither had Seraphim. I was going to scare the h.e.l.l out of her as we f.u.c.ked, but when she looked at me and talked to me, I couldn't."

"Why?"

"I liked her. She was a nice girl. Something in the way she looked got to me-but not as much as she got to Seraphim. He was out of his mind in love with her. He stopped sleeping with other slaves and even refused some of the royals. Nero thought it was all a big joke, but I knew better. This wasn't just a whim on Seraphim's part. This was the real thing. And I couldn't let him have her. I asked Nero to give her to me-as my wife."

"You married her?"

"d.a.m.n straight. I wanted to mark her as mine. She didn't say much on our wedding day-or on that night, but I sensed her sadness. I knew she loved him as much as he loved her, but I didn't care. All I thought about was taunting him. I didn't like seeing her hurt, though, so I gave her everything she wanted-except him. When he found out what I'd done, he was enraged and flew to my house, demanding a fight to the death. I was just about to give it to him when Nenet interfered. She begged us not to fight, and we both couldn't seem to refuse her anything.

It wasn't until months later I learned they were having an affair behind my back. s.h.i.+t, they were even planning to run away together. When I found that out, there was no stopping me and him from fighting. We tore each other to shreds. We killed each other, though it wasn't real death. The humans thought so, though, and had us entombed. When we made our way back to the city, Nenet was dead. She'd been murdered by robbers while Seraphim and I were fighting."

"That's sad," Trixie said, her face serious. "Mortal women always seem to get the s.h.i.+t end of the stick. Was it too late for either of you to try reviving her as a vampire?"

Vincent felt his heartbeat quicken with the memories. He closed his eyes for a moment and shook his head. "We might have been able to, but the authorities burned her remains. They'd discovered teeth marks on her neck and rumors circulated.. .d.a.m.n."

"I'm sorry." Trixie kissed his cheek.

"It was worse for Seraphim. He was never the same after her death. You know, even back then, hating him like I did, I felt sorry for him. He really loved her, Trix. And the thing I learned about Seraphim is when he loves somebody, it's fast and total. He's not a moderate kind of guy. Needless to say, we would have fought again, but we had even more problems. Nero had found himself a new favorite. A white skinned, tusked creature who only appeared by night and whom our young Emperor believed was a G.o.d. It was the First Father. The evil Original. The one I believed I'd been born to kill. Seraphim, it seemed, also had it in for him. Even within a few days, the First Father had managed to turn Nero against us. When we fought the b.a.s.t.a.r.d, it included the Roman army as well as hybrids and Immaculates recruited by the First Father himself. The son-of-a-b.i.t.c.h strung up me and Seraphim by the feet and practically drained us dry. Originals sure can drink-much more than we can. He tortured us for days before he let it be known he intended to kill us. He gave us a choice, though. Join him and know true power or die like the slaves we were."

"And?"

"I don't think I have a drop of blood left." Vincent felt so dizzy and weak he wondered if he'd spoken aloud.

"By the time he's finished, you won't." Seraphimus sounded as awful as Vincent felt.

He strained to look at the gladiator - difficult when suspended by his ankles from a stone ceiling dripping with sludge-infested moisture. Dried blood caked Vincent's naked body, and from what he could see, Seraphimus looked no better. Fresh trickles ran from gaping rips in their throats, compliments of the First Father's sharp, tusk-like teeth. Vincent had never imagined his kind were derived from such hideous creatures. If the First Father was any indication of what the rest of the Originals looked like, he could see why blood drinkers had become attached to legends of horrific monsters used to frighten children.

"It was bad enough when half of the Roman army stood between him and us, but for him to have recruited others like us..." Vincent paused as a wave of nausea nearly overcame him.

"Ws what he does. You should understand him -a man enamored with his own -power." In spite of his apparent agony, Seraphimus' voice still dripped with hatred.

"Power! I saw your power, you b.a.s.t.a.r.d. During the battle out there you chanted some words that cleared a path directly to the First Father."

"And if you hadn't gotten in the way, I might have killed him!"

"Gotten in the way? He almost ripped off your head with his own counter spell! If I hadn't stepped in-"

"Stepped in by getting yourself knocked unconscious!"

"How the h.e.l.l was I supposed to know he's got twice our strength?"

"He's an Original, fool! He's as powerful as the strongest Immaculate, but his mind control is so advanced that he seems twice as strong as he is. Originals are like intelligent bulls in the bodies of goats!"

"You might have shared that information before we attacked him. Oh, I forgot, that might have helped me, and you wouldn't dare risk that, even if it means letting him win!"

"I would give my own life to end his! A creature like you could never understand the hatred I have for him - and now for you just as much!"

"I didn't kill Nenet-"

" Don' t speak her name!"

"She was my wife!"

"That farce? I know why you wanted her, and so did she. So did the rest of Rome!"

The dreaded scent of the First Father drifted into the chamber, and the men fell silent, listening for the creak of the iron door.

"Lovely." The First Father's voice caused the hair on the back of Vincent's neck to stand on end. He craned to look upward at the small, wiry creature draped in a white toga. Long, silver hair hung down his back, and eyes, as wild and dangerous as a coliseum lion, glanced from him to Seraphimus. "My newest soldiers -or perhaps not so new. There's something so familiar about you."

The First Father approached Seraphimus. He extended his claws and dragged them down the length of Seraphimus' abdomen, winning a groan of pain and a fresh flow of blood that dripped to the victim's face.

The First Father inhaled deeply, then sniffed the air like a wolf catching the scent of prey. "I can't quite place it. Let me see."

Leaping, his slim, white hands grasped the chains supporting Seraphimus and jerked them from the ceiling. Seraphimus landed on the dirty stone floor with a thud. When he tried to stand, the First Father grasped his throat and flung him against the wall. His eyes fixed on Seraphimus' unfocused ones, and Vincent felt the waves of power as he pried into his victim's mind. After a moment, he broke contact, his breathing ragged.

Seraphimus collapsed in an unconscious heap, and the First Father snarled, his hands clenched into such tight fists that blood dripped from his palms.

"You!" Those malicious eyes fixed on Vincent. "You thought you would destroy me. Do you think such a task so simple now?"

The First Father slashed Vincent's groin with his claws, then sank his fangs into his inner thigh. Vincent gritted his teeth as he felt his life fade. The fiend was going to drain him to a sh.e.l.l!

The First Father tore his face from Vincent, blood dripping from his tusks onto the white toga. "In five days' time, I will make you an offer."

"What kind of offer?" Vincent murmured, scarcely able to form the words. His enemy merely smiled and left the cell.

Two guards entered and cut Vincent down, then suspended both him and Seraphimus by their wrists, also binding their feet to the wall. Both the manacles and shackles were rimmed with platinum barbs that severed vampire flesh, leaving wounds whose scars would take centuries to fade - if they lived that long. Vincent began to doubt he'd see the next century.

For two days, Vincent and Seraphimus hung in the cell. The First Father fed on them nightly. He watched, laughing, as they were flogged and burned. On the second day, a group of Nero's guards dragged the weakened blood drinkers outside to be shackled to a cliff. They hung for several days and nights, the sunlight adding greater pain to vampires nearly drained of their power. By day, they were beaten and by night the First Father and his Immaculate recruits feasted on what was left of their blood. Salt water sprayed them from the sea, stinging their open wounds like venom.

For the first time in his life, Vincent knew terror as he felt his own true death creeping up on him.

On the fifth night, the First Father stood before them, a b.l.o.o.d.y bag in his hand. He dumped the contents onto the dirt, revealing pieces of Vincent's parents and two of the hybrids who'd trained him to fight the First Father. After the initial shock and rush of tears threatening to spill, Vincent felt oddly calm as he listened the to First Father's words.

"My offer is this. Join me, or share your family's fate. Be very careful before you answer. I give no second offers. Your death will be immediate and excruciating. You have failed. You are not the Immaculate of the prophecy. Neither of you." The First Father glanced at Seraphimus then back to Vincent. "Join me and you will be released from this pain. You will have back all the power you lost and more. You will join the man who will rule the world. What do you say, Vincent, Seraphimus? Live or die?"

"Die!" Seraphimus hissed, his voice hoa.r.s.e with impending death, his eyes gleaming through a face matted with dirt and dried blood.

"I wanted to live." Vincent sighed. He'd given in to the First Father and once he'd managed to bury memories of his family, he had spent almost two thousand years reveling in debauchery alongside him. Vincent had always loved to indulge in his evil side, and with the First Father, he became worse than even he could have imagined. He'd told himself he was merely waiting for the chance to truly destroy him, but it had been more than that. "I'm not proud of what I did-of anything I did back then."

"I can understand why you did it," Trixie said.