Shake the Disease Pt VII: Someone To Really Love (standard:fantasy, 1144 words) [7/11] show all parts
Author: Jenkis	Added: Dec 05 2000	Views/Reads: 3041/0	Part vote: 0.00 (0 votes)
Best if you've read the first six parts. Picking up a short time after part VI. Sioux is once again given away and Drakon begins to fall deeper into despair. FEEDBACK HIGHLY APPRECIATED.

Sioux sat in front of her mirror and stared at her reflection blankly.
Her goddess-like black hair fell down to her waist and framed her pale 
face. Her sapphire eyes looked vacant and slightly cold. One year had 
passed since the tragedy and now she was to marry another. Gwendal 
Mayhem was his name and she supposed she would have to tolerate him. 
Gwendal Mayhem was nineteen years old and had been Promised to Kaitlin 
Rumm before she died the year before. He was a very beautiful young 
man, with lustrous black hair and strange eyes –they seemed a 
silver-white sort of color- that seemed to question everything. He 
reminded Sioux of a lost little boy looking for someone to love and to 
love him. The night of their Archaic Alliance had been spent in slow 
and sometimes even melancholic love-making. There was something aching 
inside that boy’s soul and for the first time she did not want to 
soothe it. She stood up and straightened her black Wedding Dress with 
brief and swift movements of her hands. She covered the beautiful color 
of her eyes with the dark lenses and put on the onyx veil she was 
required to wear. “Sioux,” it was her Mother at the door. “Yes, Mother. 
Come in,” she said, detached. “It’s time, my Daughter,” her Mother 
looked strangely happy. “All right, I’ll go,” Sioux walked to the door. 
“We will sure miss you here, Sioux,” her Mother commented as Sioux 
reached the door. “I suppose,” Sioux mused as she closed the door 
behind her one last time. 

*  *  * 

“How long does she plan to keep him?” Drakon looked at Mychael, who sat
across from him in his room. “I suppose until he dies or she gets bored 
of him, whichever comes first,” Mychael answered, taking the wrist of 
the slave-girl who stood nearby and biting into it then emptying some 
of the blood into a silver goblet. The girl simply stared into space, 
by now used to this sort of abuse. Drakon did the same to another slave 
girl. “I cannot positively stand him any longer. He aggravates me,” 
Drakon said about Elrych. “Why?” Mychael looked at him. “I don’t know. 
Perhaps because he is still so damned rebellious to everyone,” Drakon 
frowned. “That’s what Tai loves about him,” Mychael commented. “Tai 
loves nothing,” Drakon said bitterly. “You are jealous, I take it?” 
Mychael smiled. “Well, wouldn’t you be, were you me?” Drakon looked 
exasperated, “She spends most of her time in the company of that 
wretched boy!” “He is not a boy. In fact, he is older than you are,” 
Mychael reminded him. “Age makes no difference. He acts like a 
five-year-old brat,” Drakon said disgustedly. “Oh, Drakon,” Mychael 
said with a chuckle, “Do you know what your problem is?” “What?” Drakon 
turned to him “Are you willing to listen, I mean, really?” Mychael grew 
slightly serious. “Yes, will you get on with it?” Drakon said. “All 
right. She has become the world to you as only one of her race can to 
one of yours. A creature such as that becomes all things to you and her 
voice becomes the only light within your own darkness. And now she has 
found someone other than you to spend her time with and so you long for 
her and you hurt for her. But you must understand, Drakon, you are not 
to her what she is to you. Not even remotely,” he said gravely. “You 
are wrong. She cares for me,” Drakon glared at him. “She is a True 
Blood, she does not feel. She cannot,” Mychael’s voice had a tone of 
finality to it. Drakon stared at him for a long time, his own sapphire 
eyes growing darker with his growing anger and despair. “I’m going out 
to feed,” he said before walking out of the room. 

*  *  * 

Elrych stood handcuffed to the ceiling, naked to his waist but with his
pants undone and in painful ecstasy as Tai drew blood from his neck. 
Elrych’s green eyes rolled to the back of his head as he mumbled and 
whispered unintelligible things, Tai’s hand rubbing his sex and the 
other arm coming around to embrace him as she drank from his neck. 
Elrych craved putting his arms around her and pulling her even closer 
to him. Then in a colorful and passionate rush, he came all over her 
fingers with a growl. She stood away from him and licked her lips 
before licking her own fingers. Elrych hung exhausted from the 
handcuffs, breathing harshly. She looked up at him and frowned for an 
almost imperceptible second. “Get up,” she said coldly to him. He 
struggled but his arms were weak from semi-hanging all day so he fell 
back to hanging. “I said get up, slave,” she shouted. He was unable to 
so she undid the handcuffs and he fell to the floor. “Dammit, Elrych, 
get up!” she pulled at him and he was able to stumble up. “I think I’m 
going to be sick,” he muttered. “Later. Now I’m hungry,” she was 
leading him to his bed. “Hungry? Tai, you just nearly drained me,” he 
complained so that she slapped him hard across the face. “I did not 
give you permission to speak, slave, and you will refer to me as 
Master” she scowled at him but her eyes looked faintly amused. He laid 
on the bed and turned his head to the side, exposing the side of his 
neck that had not been bruised. “Feed from me, oh Master,” he said 
mockingly, expecting another blow but for his surprise she turned his 
head and kissed him hungrily on his lips, climbing on top of him. He 
heard himself moan as his passion sharply quickened once again. 

After it was over, Tai went out in search for Drakon in the streets of
Shadow Way. She found him in a little boy’s bedroom, weeping silently 
into the child’s ruined neck. “Drakon,” she quietly said and he looked 
up at her, startled. “Tai,” he whispered. “What is the matter, Drakie?” 
she frowned. “I’m not sure,” he whispered again, his tears had a red 
tint to them, he being almost completely of a *Vampyric* nature. “You 
are acting like when I first saw you,” she mused. “I know,” he nodded 
gravely. “Drakon, you frustrate me. What is it?” she knelt in front of 
him “That boy . . .” he began. “Who? This boy?” she motioned to the 
dead child. “No. The boy I brought you,” he finally looked at her. 
“Elrych?” she asked. “Yes,” he frowned. “What about him?” she said. “Do 
you love him?” he timidly whispered. “Drakon,” she smiled and looked at 
him as if he should know her answer by now and she was right, because 
he did know, “I love no one.” 


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