Page 8 of Blood Lovers

I nearly guffaw. “Not nice enough to be spared. She was going to let me fuck her, Hutch. Right in front of you. I might still take her up on that, but I don’t have time at the moment. Get her pregnant, give me a boy, and find another one to settle down with. Is that so hard?”

She’s not a nice girl, she’s a slut. We both know that. But I have mistaken his infatuation for lust. They were already asleep and it’s barely seven PM on New Year’s Eve. And they had obviously already had sex. So. He’s falling for her.

“She’s not worth it. She’s not good enough for you.”

“I don’t want her to be the breeder, Paul. I just—”

“Too bad. I like her. I want her babies. You will not marry this one. She is mine. Now heat up that blood while I shower.”

“Yes, my lord.”

I leave him there and get in the shower, thinking about that girl and what sort of boy child she might produce.

Hutch is one of my favorites. I am particular about the slaves I keep. I like them to be beautiful. He was an adorable child.

He’s been attending to me since he was seventeen, so only a few short years. But I’ve been around since his birth. He’s not my child, but I treat him like one and I’m looking forward to a new baby in my life. I don’t take care of them, of course. And this new one won’t come live at the mansion until he’s old enough to follow directions and take care of himself.

But that’s a good ten years. A lovely decade of me and that slut playing house together.

She will be a reason for me to stay above ground. She will give me a place to go and rest. I will fuck her relentlessly, and I will watch her tend the baby, and she will cook for the boy and have bags of blood in the freezer for me.

A vampire can dream, can’t he?

It’s more likely that she will be a complete bitch, I will grow tired of her within a week, and she will die a dramatic death after I take the child and leave her behind.

Hutch should not be complaining. The sooner he produces the child, the sooner he can move on with his life.

I finish showering and choose clothes from the wardrobe Hutch keeps for me. Even though my body heat is enough to warm a whole house, I dress in layers like the locals. Montana in January might as well be the Arctic.

But I cannot put the shirt on until the wings are gone, and the wings won’t go away until I drink the blood that Hutch left for me on the dresser. This blood is old. But old blood is best if it comes from a young feeder. And this batch does. I took this blood from the old dying witch when she was but seven or eight years old. It’s been on ice since then. Many decades.

It is body temperature when I drink it down. And I fantasize a little about what it would be like to drink it from the source again.

Naturally my thoughts wander to the lavender dreamwalker. Soon. It’s happening, finally. The protection spell will wear off in, what, hours? Days? Hell, it could be minutes for all I know.

This motivates me. I dress in a pair of black canvas work pants, a t-shirt, a long-sleeved thermal, a pair of wool socks, boots, and a black canvas work coat. Then I pause to look at myself in the full-length mirror near the door.

Another fail in the lore.

Of course we can see ourselves in the mirror. We are not phantoms. We are flesh and blood.

And with the new old blood, the wings are gone and the demonic attributes have all but disappeared. I look human. If humans were ever this striking. Very tall, with dark blond hair, piercing blue eyes, broad shoulders, and a muscular body.

I am beautiful, and formidable, and cunning.

So cunning.

Hutch looks sad as he stands next to me. I meet his eyes in the mirror as I adjust my coat. “There will be other women, Hutch. There will be other babies. I provide you with so much. A life, all the money you need, food, shelter. All I want in return is a little boy. You know I will love him. I love you, don’t I?”

He nods. But he’s not convinced.

But that’s OK. I don’t need him to be convinced.

He will not disobey me.

He is a slave and I am his master.

I pat his shoulder sympathetically, and then I walk through the door and leave him behind.