OvidLemma

Content Warning: There is a coercive sex scene toward the end of the chapter.

Chapter Thirty: Finally, A Vampire Orgy

Truth be told, Vera would have far rather gone with Xia than Moody. She had little doubt that Xia was cold and calculating in her own way - in fact, she'd seen plenty of evidence of this. But neither did Vera have the impression that she was a glib and callous sociopath in the way Moody was. In fact, if Vera wasn't mistaken, Xia was fond of her. But Moody had dirt on Vera and wouldn't hesitate to use it to upend her life and, if that didn't work, he'd obliquely threaten her family. She'd have to humor the master vampire until she got out from under his thumb.

Vera and Lisa filed out after the others, following Erasmus and Carrie out to a sleek limousine with a driver-familiar waiting at the ready. The master vampire opened the door himself and gestured that the ladies were to enter before him. He slid in behind them, easing down next to Carrie, his arm reaching across her shoulder with a possessive mien. With a little nod, he signaled the driver to leave. They coasted down the rural route for a little ways, the limo handling the twists and gravel patches with surprising aplomb. The whole time, Carrie stared angrily at them - though she probably didn't know that Vera had killed her friends because Lisa was getting just as much glare.

"They were the last two with Matt and Carlos," she stated. "I think they did something to them… I mean, how much do we trust these girls?"

Erasmus chuckled. "Carrie, my dear, you've known me for how long? I don't trust anybody. But let's be honest: if these two teamed up, maybe they could take on all hundred and fifty pounds of Mister Matthew. A big boy like Carlos? Tell me, girls, have you done anything untoward with our missing boys?"

To Vera's horror, Lisa spoke up: "Well…" she said, avoiding Erasmus's penetrating gaze. "We, you know, fooled around. But it seemed like that was pretty much expected."

Erasmus's eyebrows went up. "Oh? I'd have given a pretty pint to be a fly on that wall. But that isn't the untoward I meant, Miss Lisa, so don't play coy with old Erasmus. Did you hurt, maim, mutilate, or kill Carlos and Matthew?"

"Of course not," Vera lied… or half-lied. She hadn't killed Carlos and Matthew. And she hoped Moody didn't have some trick for detecting her semi-untruth. "We left them be around three or four to get back to my place - our place - before sunup."

Erasmus gave Carrie's thigh a gentle squeeze - it was creepily possessive like half the things he did, but not lascivious. Clearly, the master vampire still carried traces of an older time in his mannerisms. "There you have it, Miss Carrie, they didn't harm your boys. Satisfied?"

"No," Carrie said. She lifted his hand from her jeans-clad thigh and returned her glare to Vera.

"No," Moody repeated. His gaze flicked up to meet Vera's. "Neither am I. But we'll get to the bottom of it. And if somebody's harmed our boys, I'll tear him up, bleed him dry, or - if it's one of ours, Abaddon forbid - leave him out in the sun to crisp into ash and bone. Believe you me, we'll get him."

"Or her."

"Or her," he agreed.

After about ten minutes, they reached a tiny intersection along the route, turned right, and were out of the pine swamps and out in proper civilization more suddenly than Vera would have expected. They passed through a tiny town and about five miles of mixed cotton and tobacco, the broad leaves of tobacco stretching higher than Vera was tall and billowing in the moonlight like seagrass. Vera imagined the farmland looked much the same as it had two hundred years ago, save that there was an asphalt road wending through the fields and the slave houses had been replaced with maintenance sheds.

Erasmus Moody looked out wistfully, his blood-red eyes tracking the countryside before fixing on the palatial estate sitting atop the nearby rise - massive and white-pillared with a dozen gables and great bay windows overlooking the fields.

"As a city upon the hill, the eyes of all people are upon us," Erasmus said.

"I hope not," Carrie snorted. "We'd be fucked."

"Not forever," Erasmus said. "But I meant more metaphorically, as an example of strength and leadership, n'est-ce pas? Lisa and Vera, welcome to my home at Chapel House. Carrie, dear, you're always welcome at my humble hearth."

Carrie rolled her eyes. "Very humble, Erasmus."

Indeed, Chapel House was not a humble abode. However large the plantation house had been in days of yore, Erasmus Moody had clearly added to the things over the years. It was huge and airy with a two-level balcony surrounding most of the house's front, with intricate wrought iron, whitewashed brick and masonry, and a dozen soaring columns. And the inside might have been the abode of a gilded age robber baron, but for the various nods to modernity: motion-activated track lighting, touch-panel controls and screens where appropriate and, of course, central air. Still, the entry hall was a huge, vaulted place with three huge fans lazily spinning near the ceiling. And there were servants, too, a dozen of them that Vera could see in the entryway, lined up and ready to meet Moody, with others shuffling back in the other rooms, still going about their duties at the late hour.

"Welcome home, Master Moody," the butler said, a middle-aged black man with a rumbling baritone. He motioned for the footman to take Erasmus's jacket and fit him in his evening attire.

"Thank you, Samuel. I take it Charles sent you the particulars on our guests?"

"He did, sir."

"Good, you'll see to it, then. I'm retiring to my study." He turned back to Vera. "We'll have time to discuss our current crisis soon enough. Make yourselves at home, ladies."

One of the maids accepted Lisa's Prada, Burberry, and Yves St. Laurent bags, showing them back to a small suite of rooms on the second floor. The butler, the footmen, the maids… all twenty or so servants that Vera had seen, all had familiar tattoos, and all were black. Something about it struck Vera as very wrong, as if Erasmus Moody was still running his very own slave plantation approaching the third decade of the Twenty-First Century. It was all very genteel, very sterilized - there was no whipping post, there were no cotton pickers working their fingers bloody in the fields - but it was still deeply, deeply fucked up.

"Is it just me, or is this fucked up?" Vera whispered.

"Very fucked up," Lisa agreed. She emptied her bags and started arranging the contents into workable ensembles. "Like, do those people ever get to go home? Or does he have them working in shifts? Be honest, does this go with my hair color?"

"Lisa, Jesus… this is serious. I'm scared about what's happening with the missing youngbloods, it's midnight, and we're in the middle of Erasmus Moody's creepy-ass slave plantation. I do not want to discuss attire, okay?"

Lisa sighed and sat next to Vera on the bed, a huge poster bed that could have slept five people with a weird old-timey mattress with about two feet of give. She put her arm around Vera, leaned into her, and sighed.

"You're just moody because you need blood," she said.

Vera was pretty sure that wasn't it at all. But she did need blood. She popped her head out into the hallway and flagged down one of the servants. He shuffled over to her, his expression utterly unreadable beneath his practiced smile.

"Would it be too much of an imposition to ask for… um… a bite to eat?"

+++++

Getting blood at Erasmus Moody's estate was no problem at all. No wonder the master vampire was in an eternally chipper (if simultaneously evil) mood - he could sate himself however much and however often he liked. With the prospect of guests on the horizon, Charles had activated all of Erasmus's household familiars who hadn't recently been fed upon. Within five minutes of Vera's request, they had four familiar-servants filing into the room, full of blood, standing at attention, and awaiting instruction.

After some awkward negotiation, Vera gleaned that she was to request whether the familiar preferred a wrist or neck bite and then tend to exposing the area and seeing to the mechanics of the bite, herself. She took the first man by the wrist, just as she had with Pastor Mooney, a little bite along the length of the limb, an inch-long wund that she slowly took her meal out of… and she could hear and smell the man get aroused by it, which was frankly a bit off-putting. But she was deep enough into the bloodlust that she had to concentrate on not sucking too quickly, lest she cause pain or collapse a vein, so she could ignore the deeply disconcerting nature of Moody’s familiars. After the first few gulps, the edge of bloodlust dissipated and Vera had to bear with the man and his arousal for two and a half more minutes. She got her pint of blood, but it wasn't fast - there was only so much you could gently coax out of an inch-long incision, however precise. Necks were a lot more efficient. Eventually, the man shifted his stance, and Vera figured that meant she was about to commit the faux-pas of going over her pint. She released her bite with a smack of her lips and savored the remainder of the glorious blood making its way to her belly. The man kept in place and cleared his throat with the aplomb of an inveterate servant.

"It's customary, though not required, to give some crimson venom after you've fed," the man said.

Of course - that was pretty much the only benefit of being a familiar, so of course they'd expect that. Her vampire saliva had already thoroughly clotted the wound. "Oh! Sorry! I'm, um… I'm new at this. I'm going to have to bite you again."

"Whatever you deem necessary, madam."

Vera gave him the same amount of crimson she usually gave Pastor Mooney, which the man clearly considered adequate. With a little sway in his gait, he wandered out of the room, leaving two more familiars - Lisa had just finished hers, too. She sighed and eased back into the too-soft bed.

"You can have them both if you like," Lisa said with a vague gesture. "I already had plenty today."

Vera didn't bother to ask where and whom. She probably didn't want to know. She helped herself to blood from the other two familiars, a pint from the next man and three quarters or so from the woman who came after. At that point, Vera was veritably brimming with blood, considerably more than she'd ever had in a sitting before. She collapsed next to Lisa, gurgling happily.

She turned to face Lisa. She still smelled of orange blossom, and now both of them smelled of fresh blood, rich and nurturing. Lisa stared at the ceiling fan and hummed happily, the dim, diffuse light of the room catching the blue of her eye like a crystal pool immersed in shadow, her lips and slightly-upturned nose perfect in profile. Vera sighed and curled up to her, about to suggest that they do something naughty when a servant shuffled up to the door. She didn't knock, but perhaps that's not how things were done at Chapel House - a vampire could hear you mulling about outside, could hear the shuffle of your feet, the puff of you breath, the click of your teeth as you tapped them together.

"Come in," Vera called. She wasn't in the mood to extract herself from the soft tangle of the bed.

"Miss… miss," the servant said, nodding to each of them, an edge of uncertainty in her voice. "Master Moody requests your presence in the upper parlor."

Vera's glance flicked back toward Lisa, whose beatific face had become an annoyed frown. "I think we'll stay here, thanks," Vera said.

"Um… pardon, miss… but I don't think this is that kind of request."

Ah. The not-a-request sort of request. That sounded a lot like Erasmus Moody. Well… they were in his creepy vampire estate under 'protection' for a crime that Vera had to take the bulk of responsibility for. If she'd just let Carlos kill Eva, then… well, the rest of the coven would be out for witch blood. Maxie and Gloria and Hector would probably be dead by now, too. She'd done the right thing. But it didn't put her and Lisa in a very good spot right now.

"I'll need a few minutes to get ready," she said. "Where's the upper parlor?"

"I'll show you the way when you're ready."

Vera threw on one of Lisa's ensembles to make herself at least marginally presentable. As it happened, Lisa had taken outfits for a wide variety of occasions, but only with one person in mind. So there was one evening gown, which she quickly claimed, and the next presentable thing was a YSL skirt suit that, while certainly chic, gave off 'sexy junior executive' vibes rather than 'elegant seductress of the night' like the flowing navy and purple of Lisa's dress. Not to mention, Vera still wasn't entirely comfortable with skirts and dresses. After a last-minute bit of hair maintenance, they followed the servant to the upper parlor.

The upper parlor - implying that there was more than one. Vera considered having one parlor to be pretty fancy. Two was just rubbing it in. She clunked along on three-inch wedge heels, which were the only shoes Lisa had that weren't sandals or the sleek blue stilettos that she'd already claimed. She clunked along and Lisa clicked, the tap of her stilettos an exclamation of her presence that echoed through the gallery - any vampire within a mile couldn't help but hear their approach. As they approached the parlor, Vera smelled weed, incense, and blood in that order. She'd already had more than she ought to have drunk… though, Vera realized, she could still drink more. She no longer felt full to bursting - vampire metabolism seemingly churned through blood at a good clip. The servant opened the big double doors to the parlor and all three scents quickly ramped up to eleven.

"Ladies! So pleased you decided to come," Erasmus Moody said.

+++++

To call the room a parlor would be like calling their bedchamber a 'cot closet'. Yes, the room had various chairs, tables, and even a few bookcases, but it was sprawling, ornate, and clearly meant to be Vampire Orgy Central. Erasmus was already naked, blood glistening in his mustache and two fulsome familiars tending to his needs. There were perhaps fifteen people in there already - five vampires and ten familiars, all of them in states of advanced foreplay or beyond.

"Nope," Vera said. She spun on her clunky heels and made to leave.

Erasmus Moody zoomed over to her in an instant, the scent of musk and blood wafting along with him. He held her back, his hand firm on her shoulder, his breath hot in her ear.

"Oh, but I insist, Miss Vera," he said. "I can't promise that I won't bite… but I'll be gentle."

"Master Moody, I'm not in the mood for an orgy," Vera stated. She could feel him, hot and naked behind her, his hands reaching up to unbutton the herringbone jacket of her ensemble. One button… two buttons… her hand went up to his wrist, but she didn't stop him.

"Oh, but I think you are. I can smell the blood on you - you cannot deny your nature. We feed, Vera. And, high on the spark of that borrowed vitality, our every passion is inflamed. But, if you want to go back to your bedchamber and leave Miss Lisa unattended… well… she's a big girl, isn't she? I'm sure she'll do just fine."

Vera was about to ask what the hell he was talking about but, sure enough, Lisa had already wandered over to a cluster - three familiars and the pleasant, young-looking vampire of some Middle-Eastern extraction they'd seen at the temple earlier. And, as he undressed Lisa with a rapt reverence, she leaned forward and nipped at one of his familiars. The upper parlor's double doors clicked shut, and Vera was only vaguely aware of Erasmus Moody guiding her to a chaise longue, her jacket and blouse completely open, the little strip of her seafoam-green bra visible amid the fluttering fabric.

"I… I don't like men," she said weakly. The blazing scent of incense filled her sinuses.

"And I am no man, Vera. I am a master vampire, and I do as I please. But if you want to put up a fight, go on."

With a start, Vera realized she was reclined lewdly on the chaise, her blouse clinging on to her torso out of sheer stubbornness, her skirt hiked up past indecency, Erasmus's steady hand hot on her thigh. Then his hand slid up… up… caressing over the lace of her bra and then up to her wrist, which he brought above her head. His grip was powerful - inhumanly powerful. Certainly stronger than Carlos. And yet, tugging against it, Vera thought she might be able to pull away and put up a decent fight. But then Erasmus would know that she was uncommonly strong, even for a young vampire, strong enough to overpower a much-larger Carlos. No, she couldn't do that. And part of her didn't want to.

His blood-red eyes bored into her, intense and possessive. "Anything. I. Want," Erasmus said, and he descended to kiss her.

Part of Vera wanted to scream. She wanted to struggle free ad run away. But another part of her was afire with the myriad sensations of life, an erotic thrill that threatened to stampede out of control. A shiver ran down her back, and she bit into Erasmus's lip hard enough to draw a tiny dark streak of vampire blood, rarefied and amazing, but less vital than mortal blood. Erasmus growled, his gaze intensifying. He ripped her clothes away, the blouse and jacket unharmed, but her bra snapping in half, breasts surging free. She moaned as his hands ran along them. And she returned his gaze, her brow furrowed in confusion.

"You are a creature of passion now," Erasmus said. "A vampire doesn't concern herself with silly human mores. They aren't for you anymore - we do what we want because it feels right, because the life we burn through desires it. And right now, I desire you."

With that, he extruded his fangs and sank to Vera's chest, eliciting a pinprick of pain as he bit, right below her collarbone at the beginning of her generous swell of breast… and she felt something warm, something like spice emanating through her, as if all of the incense in the room had been concentrated and passed into her body. And Vera realized that Erasmus had just dosed her with crimson venom.

She struggled in her confusion, pulled away from him, and that triggered some predatory instinct within the master vampire. He growled and thrust into her. And Vera's mind was so overwhelmed by the sensation that it took a full five or six seconds to realize that she was being fucked by Erasmus Moody… whom she hated… and she really liked it. She hated that she liked it, but her body knew what it wanted, and what it wanted was for that glorious, burning pleasure to continue. She gripped onto him, pleasure pulsing through her pussy like a living, growing creature, bliss radiating through her body with each expert thrust - a thrust and then something else - Erasmus had clearly learned a bit about sex during his centuries of life. And then Moody leaned down, pressing himself against Vera to whisper some sweet nothing into her ear.

"Did you kill Carlos and Matthew?" he asked.

What? Vera was taken aback… and, worse, she found herself answering, her mouth moving of its own accord, only vaguely connected to a brain that was overwhelmed by coitus and now dripping traitorous information onto her tongue, one word at a time. It took a monumental effort of will to rein it in, even a bit.

"N… no," she said. "I didn't kill them…" It was technically true - replace the and in 'Carlos and Matthew' with or, and she'd have helplessly answered in the affirmative. Struggling against the effect of the venom was like trying to wrestle a well-oiled python. And Vera was already attempting to deal with a python of another sort.

Moody seemed surprised by the answer. "Do you know where they are?"

"Nnn…" she tried to say 'no', but just couldn't bring herself to do it. The crimson venom buzzed at her perception, washing pleasure over her body, ecstasy slowly ratcheting up as Erasmus slid in and out. "Llllast I saw them, they were at a place Carlos got… was keeping it secret. A cooonverted Presbyterian ch-church in the Heights."

"Well isn't that interesting?" Moody said. And, just like that, Vera had told Erasmus Moody exactly where to find two vampire bodies.

OvidLemma

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