Into the Fire – Ch. 3 – Love Bites
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Warnings: dub-con, hard vore, explicit M/F sex scene
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"Whelp, guess Mikey's not hungry anymore." Paul, the miraculous individual that he is, having already recovered his usual juvenile charm, snickers, grinning at Michael fiendishly. "Aren't ya gonna chase after her, bro?"
"Yeah! He should follow her, shouldn't he, boss?" Marko joins in, slapping David on the shoulder.
David doesn't react to the playful goading, his eyes fixed instead on Michael who is staring, baleful, at the cave entrance, body poised and taut. Dwayne shifts beside him and David feels his own mouth curving to mimic the frown on his brother's face. They can both tell something is amiss in their newest member; something powerful and ugly.
"I don't think that's such a good idea, boys," David says carefully, waiting for the predictable cue that is Paul whining about him, their leader, being no fun.
"Aw, man! Davey, what you gotta be such a buzzkill?"
"Well then, Paul, why don't you go out there and bring her back then?" David snaps.
Paul gasps in mock affront, but wisely shuts his mouth.
Meanwhile, Michael is lost in a spell of blissful ignorance to the voices around him. He licks his lips, tongue gliding over his fangs, collecting the last few pin drops of blood left over from his young kill.
Star was always so protective of the little brat. Why? What was so special about him? Meat and bones, that's all he was; prime rib for a vampire. She could have eaten him any time she pleased, but instead she kept him by her at all times to nurture him like a bear cub. He was her number one priority. Poor little Laddie. Michael rolls his eyes in disgust.
Now the kid's gone, she'll focus on him.
David watches Michael leave to track down Star, scowling. Even though he couldn't care less about the stupid girl, none of this sits right. Dwayne brushes shoulders with him in understanding, while Paul and Marko howl and jaunt at Michael's departure, oblivious to the dangerous truth.
Ascending the stairs, Michael can feel the fresh blood in him heading south, memories of Star's ripe, soft flesh beneath his hands, at his mercy, fogging his brain as a low predator growl rumbles in his throat.
Though she can fly, Star hasn't gone anywhere, held by some invisible anchor to David and the rest. She sits on the edge of the cliff, crying into a scarf, mourning the loss of that barely-a-snack like it was actually more than a portable blood bag.
Michael sneers, eyes flashing gold, then back to blue as he nears her, already on the hunt. Coming up behind her, he crouches low, practically crab-walking toward her, slow and steady so as not to scare her away. He lets her hear the gravel crunch beneath his sneakers, fixing the saddest face he can remember having as he inches near.
"Ssstar?" He makes his voice waver, ending with a high croak. "Wh-What's happening to me, Star?"
Star turns, tears making tracks down her pale cheeks. Seeing him, the turmoil and pain roiling like the wild ocean in his deep blue eyes, her apprehension melts away, and her heart aches to comfort the fear in his voice. She lays her hands on his cheeks, thumbs rubbing gently across his skin.
"Oh, Michael, I'm so sorry. I never should have let you follow me. It's all my fault. If you hadn't met me, if I hadn't liked you… I tried to warn you…" Her face crumbles, and she looks ready to cry again.
Michael moves in, curling his arms around her, holding her close as she wraps supple arms around his neck, sobbing into his shoulder. Rubbing her back, he smiles, hands slipping lower with each pass till they cup her ass, kneading firmly. She startles, his face now nestled against her neck, kissing, flat lower teeth grazing lightly over the tantalising artery that thrums under petal-thin skin.
"Michael… what are you doing?" Star asks meekly, her tone quiet and confused.
"Ssssh, Star… relax…" Michael's voice rumbles through his chest, through hers. Moving forward, he cradles her, his lips tender on her throat, his legs slipping between hers till he's laying atop her, there on the grass and sand of the cliff, the ocean roaring in the distance matching the rush of her still-flowing blood in his ears.
Star shakes her head, trying to move out from under him, weak fists slapping him in the chest. "Michael, stop!" she cries.
"Come on, Star, you know you don't want to fight this," Michael purrs, aiming for seduction as he trails his fingertips over her clothed breasts.
Gasping, Star sinks her hands into his curls, unsure if she's pulling or pushing. His mouth continues to lave her skin, tendrils of heat curling through her, his hands everywhere; to brush her cheek, glide over her thin top, slide down her thighs to gather her skirts and push them up. Before she knows what is happening, he has her writhing at his touch, fingers dancing on her clit, tweaking a nipple, hands sliding around her waist to pull her hips up to meet his.
Michael sinks to the hilt insider her, holding her against his frenzied thrusts with an iron grip. Insatiable want crackles through him, setting his nerves on fire, driven by the feel of her slick warmth. Her soft thighs enfold him, stuttering moans bathing his ears, musk heavy in his nose, and as always, the heady aroma of honey-sweet blood teasing, the pulse mesmerising him, drawing him down until he sinks fangs deep around her bird-frail clavicle and snaps it like a celery stick.
Images of Laddie torn to pieces flash in Star's mind, and she screams, the shrill sound echoing against the cliff.
Down in the cave, four heads perk up. Marko and Paul look at their leader, pensively waiting for direction. David taps out a cigarette with casual indifference, lighting up and taking a slow drag.
"Looks like another problem solved. Boys, clean that up." He waves a dismissive hand toward what's left of the small body of their former charge, then heads to the cave entrance, exiting to check on the situation above.
On the sand of the cliff, Star is fighting for her life, feet and hands turned to claws, leaving gashes everywhere they can reach, desperation bringing the transformation all David's urging never could, but it's no use; the demon that was Michael has her pinned, bodies pressed together, hips snapping with bruising strength, heedless of the damage he inflicts.
Michael chews his way through her ribs, bones crunching like dry leaves under feral jaws, until he finds her beating heart. His face is soaked and dripping with the fruitless pumping of severed arteries and veins, and he is oblivious to the silent observer to his monstrous appetite. He thrusts again with bone-shattering force, lets out a ravening growl that stuns his dying prey, and throws his head upward as a debased climax sends euphoria crashing through him. He rips into the open cavity, the failing vital organ splitting in half, throat filled with dregs of ambrosia.
Star's death rattle wheezes out past grey lips, her body falling limp beneath him.
Michael goes still, transported by sensation. His carnal reverie is broken by a slow clap, blue eyes peeling open reluctantly to find David standing by the stairway.
"Bravo, Michael. Even Marko took a few years to reach that level of bloodthirsty abandon."
A brief caress of wind, and they are face to face. David's tongue darts out, licks a stripe up Michael's cheek, the action riling Michael's hunger up once more, as a wolfish grin dimples the pale and deceptively young face.
"One thing I'll say about Star; she had great taste."