Chapter 18: Verchiel - Never-Ending Question, Part 3

Verchiel looked uncertainly from the girl to Kateesha and tried to figure out what she expected him to do. The smell of her mortal blood made his stomach rumble. But, if Kateesha had merely planned her as a meal, why was he left naked in a bed? Logic told him one thing, and hunger another, until he backed away from the trembling mortal.

Kateesha mock pouted. "Don't you like her?"

"Y-yes, she'sshe's fineIn what way do you wish me to like her?"

Kateesha laughed and pushed the girl. With a cry of surprise she sprawled across the bed, one hand on his naked thigh, the other in the middle of his chest. The scent of her was too much and he grabbed her, ready to sink his fangs into her throat, when Kateesha pulled her free.

The girl stumbled backwards. Kateesha snapped something at her that he didn't understand, then moved to the edge of the bed and sat next to him. She leaned close and traced his ear with her tongue. "You are an unwieldy pupil. Did I say you could touch her yet?"

His attention was on the mortal as she disrobed to reveal creamy smooth skin, narrow hips and small breasts. His stomach twisted, but not from lust: from hunger. He started to climb off the bed, when Kateesha slapped him hard enough to knock him back to the pillows.

Hand to his cheek, he turned angry eyes on her. "What was that for?"

"You weren't paying attention," she snapped. "Apologize."

There was a moment where different personalities warred against each other. Should he slap her back? Should he knock her aside and take the girl? Should he follow her commands? He didn't know who he was, or what he was, or whether he would be the sort to allow her dominance. But, the smell of the girl's blood was driving him crazy, so he chose the path of least resistance. "I'm sorry."

"Sorry, what?"

He was speechless for a moment, then guessed what she was after. "I'm sorry, Master."

"Very good. Last night I allowed you to take the priest with reckless abandon, but tonight we are playing a game called self-control." She ran a long nailed finger from his thigh to his collar bone. "You are very hungry, aren't you? You need to learn that sometimes you have to wait." She punctuated each word by smacking his hand, then she turned to the girl and motioned her to join them.

The girl obeyed, but there was something wrong with her. Her eyes were vacant and her movements stiff, like a lifeless puppet.

"You noticed." Kateesha smiled. "Yes. I am controlling her. If you are good, I'll teach you to do it one day."

The girl climbed onto the bed and over the length of him, holding herself above him, her face close enough to kiss. He could feel the heat of her legs against his, the warmth that radiated from every inch of her naked body. His heart hammered in his chest and his eyes strayed from her lips to the subtly pulsing vein in her neck. It was only Kateesha's dark gaze that stopped him from tackling the mortal and drinking her dry.

Verchiel barely noticed when his mistress moved back from the bed to peel off her own clothes. Every ounce of concentration was on not attacking the girl. Then, the human leaned closer, mouth open, as if to kiss him.

Kateesha's furious shriek was what brought him back. He straddled the girl in bed, her blood hot in his mouth and running down his chin to stain the bedclothes. The ragged bite above her left breast bled freely, the smell intoxicating. He moved to drink again, even as Kateesha shouted and hit his naked back and shoulders with her fist.

Before he could sink his teeth into the mortal, Kateesha ripped her from his arms and flung her across the room, leaving a streak of blood on the floor boards. "I told you to wait!"

He wanted to feel sorry, he even tried to feel sorry, but the emotion wasn't there. All he felt was hunger.

He moved toward the girl and Kateesha slapped him hard enough to knock him off the other side of the bed. He sat up, shaking his head, in time to see Kateesha scoop up the girl's body and storm out of the room. He made to follow her, but the lock clicked from the outside before he reached the door.

As his blood lust cooled, he cleaned himself and the room, leaving the pile of soiled linens in a heap at the foot of the bed. With nothing else to do, he turned to Kateesha's leather bound book. The pages were thick with brittle edges, and the ink faded. He didn't understand the alphabet, and the fantastic pictures only confused him more. There were images of monsters, half-animal half-human concoctions, and winged people. He'd have called the former angels except they looked wrong; not beautiful but terrifying.

It was late when Kateesha returned, and his stomach rumbled hopefully. He'd hardly had his fill before she'd taken his meal away.

"And being hungry will do you good," Kateesha snapped, her hands on her hips. "Perhaps you'll remember the lesson better. The people of this town are already in a panic after they discovered the priest. I admit, that was my fault. I underestimated his importance; what is one missionary after all? And I should have made you clean up after yourself, but I was caught up in the excitement of my first fledgling."

"Fledgling?"

"It's what you are," she said impatiently. "I made you into this into an immortal god. But from now on we need to practice the caution my brother so often preaches. If you want to stay here, you must learn self-control, or else the villagers will riot and we will have to either leave or die."

"You said they are weaker than us."

"Of course they are." She started to pace, as she had the night before. "Individually they are weaker, or in small bunches, but when they unify when they band together in an army and come after you with fire and swords, when they tie you to a stake and burn you, or leave you for the sun to destroy. We are stronger than they are, but we are not so strong that we do not burn. My father could lay low this village with a thought, but you and I could not. Not yet. We could kill them all, of course, one by one, but together...together they would overtake us. Do you understand?"

He wanted to. He really wanted to. But, he didn't. They were either weaker, or they weren't. If the humans could band together and annihilate their superiors, then how inferior were they, really?

"Inferior enough," Kateesha snapped, then relented. "Fear of them is not the only reason you need restraint. How can one enjoy their meal if they rush through it? Think of the pleasure we could have both derived from that child had you not selfishly taken her?"

He stared blankly and she made an aggravated sound. "Never mind, my innocent angel. Tomorrow I will show you. For the sun will be upon us soon."

He followed her out of the room and down to the crude wine cellar. Like the night before they settled between the casks and she lay her head on him.

He stared at nothing and asked, "You were gone so long. Where did you go?"

"I had to dispose of her body first, then I was hungry and lonely."

The suggestion in her tone left him with mental images of her dark body twined around someone else's. A dart of jealousy lanced through him. He drew a tight breath, then forced words out. "Kateesha. What are we? What is our connection?"

"Do you need a label so badly? I told you. I am your master and you are my fledgling. There is no such thing as monogamy in this world, sweetling. It is only a pretty lie men press upon women to make sure the child they bear has the blood of their husbands, meanwhile their husbands bed whom they please and call their partners whores."

"That is an unromantic view."

"The world is unromantic. You have forgotten that, perhaps, or perhaps you have been lucky enough not to notice yet. In time you will learn the truth of man's ugliness, an ugliness that follows even into immortality. Now, sleep. Tomorrow you will begin to understand."

Despite the order, he lay awake, after she drifted off, and stared at the dirt wall. Her words played through his head and he wondered which it was. Had he never discovered the darkness in the world, or had he simply forgotten it with everything else? Her tone was bitter when she spoke of men of husbands and her inclusive words hinted that she found them all to be something domineering and distasteful. Had he been like that? Had he lorded over his wife and done what he pleased behind her back? Was that the kind of man he was?

He didn't know, but he hoped not.