This boy was her own age! But he had flesh harder than stone, mana like a nuclear power plan, and eyes filled with a promise of pain. The blood, well that was a treat she'd only read about. She'd read of the waxing moaning experiences of Alexandria and her courting with the god Apollo. The tales of golden blood paled in comparison to what she'd tasted. Power, pride, and hate flavored his blood with a tantalizing taste that drove her feral. A pure going feral was unheard of.
She wanted to get away from him. In her mind she told herself it wouldn't work, it couldn't. They were from two different worlds. She was the moon and he the sun. Yet every pulse of his heart drove her to him. It called to her with the most provocative music like a twisted drumline. She couldn't stay away.
Normally, that wouldn't be a problem. No matter how sweet the blood it had a mortal container. All blood eventually ran dry. With his blood drained he'd lose his appeal. Normally, that made her infatuation an easy fix. Nope, his flesh was immune to her fangs.
Why, was she cursed. It was like the tale of the vampire and the wooden maiden. In that tale the vampire fell in love with a maiden made of wood but when he tried to drain her no blood emerged. He refused to leave her side and eventually starved to death. A tragedy, and to rub garlic salt in the wound the wooden lady stood up and danced upon his corpse. That wasn't how she wanted to go.
Her beloved wooden man sat with his eyes closed holding a spark of demonic flame contained by a Taoist spell. Just when she thought she'd go another night without tasting his blood, the sweet elixir began to drip from his eyes.
She would deny what came next until she met her final end. Annette drove herself to Nero's side and licked his face. The blood was different than before. This time it was fresh. Upon her tongue she tasted a delicious cocktail of pain, rage, and will. It was blinding, powerful, and hot. With a full stomach she wasn't going feral, but it was close.
Fireworks shot off in her head as she tasted the cried sparks of life. She brushed his cheek with her fangs and growled into his ears. Nothing shook him from his concentration. This was feeding without feeding. There was no stalking, chase, or triumph. Annette could still pretend. She'd wounded her prey and now she followed his blood trail. When she tracked him to his den the chase would begin.
"You know, it's dangerous this close to me while I practice." Nero said. She ground her fangs in embarrassment.
"I was merely protecting your new suit. Though it is below my standards you can't afford to ruin your clothes." She sneered down at his clothes with practiced ease. It was important to let him know that she stood above him.
"Thank you that's very kind." His words were drier than a desert. He was truly a wooden man. But she'd learned where to find her syrupy sap. If she couldn't encourage bleeding through her actions then, she'd induce him to do it for her.
With a bit of concentration, she prepared to bare the might of her glamour upon Nero's mortal mind.
"Did you need something? Is there another summoning tonight?" Nero asked.
"Cut your finger and let me suck on it." The wooden man froze, and she knew she had him. No matter how powerful magically. Nero was only as old as she was. He couldn't have had time to learn occlumency or any other mind arts.
"That was random." Nero muttered.
Annette froze in shock. Was he not paying attention when she used her glamour? That must have been it. She wouldn't believe that a mortal no matter how much mana could be immune to her glamour. A pure blood's glamour was a powerful thing. She could order mortals to do whatever she wanted. If she said jump, then their entire lives would be devoted to the act of hopping.
She looked into his eyes now confident he couldn't look away. This was it. All his concentration was on her, she couldn't fail. "Cut your finger and let me suck on it now." She ordered.
"No," Nero replied. Annette froze.
"Then forget what I said before." Their eyes met and she felt her glamour shatter against a wall. There was a slight yellow glow deep within his eyes. The Taoist art, he'd only begun working on it a week ago it couldn't be able to protect against mental attacks.
"Why should I give you my blood? What do I get out of it?" Her wooden man asked it like it wasn't a privilege to please her. His eyes were the worst part. She could see an air of humor in them. He thought her attempts were laughable.
"I've drained lesser nobles and wizards dry for lesser infractions than humor Nero." A smile lit his face and he laughed. If she could blush, she would have. The indignity, he was just a mortal and he dared to laugh at her.
She leapt at him and found his throat quickly. When her fangs sank into his neck all she tasted was salty skin. No matter how hard she clenched her jaw his skin remained impenetrable. He was the wooden man in his refusal to give her blood.
His hands roamed to her behind and suddenly her her panties were turned to the side. Her eyes widened at the implications. She felt the drum of his heart reach a strange tempo.
Powerful fingers spread her open and she felt herself moisten from the indignity. A mortal dared to strip her. This wooden man who never showed her any interest had suddenly made his move. His pants were down and gone and he shoved her against a wall.
She never expected the power of his thrusts to send shivers from the tips of her toes to the top of her head. Every thrust was capped with rage. He'd given himself to then animal and now she was left as its chew toy. It was a rollercoaster; with every thrust he increased the force on her body. When he built up to his release, she felt the slow incremental rise. Eventually, she reached the top of the hill where the rest of the track was revealed to her. He hit the good spots and then the great spots and they went down that hill. She felt every loop de loop, twist of his cock, and the sudden interest in her butt hole. He wasn't her first mortal lover, but he was the first the live through the process. When they reached the exit ramp, she found that she liked something about him other than his blood.
That made her wonder were there other qualities he had that she liked.
Jefferson had raped his mind, his morals, and his pride. He picked at each of his 108 prayer beads imagining them as a head he could pluck off. Three years at Jefferson had taught him more about magic than he ever knew existed. This was the school that taught all the things he never knew he wanted to know.
After going through all 216 beads, he found his anger simmered. It never cooled or went away.
He'd gone home several times and planned how he'd enter the town surrounded by the mist. For now, a few murdered bounty hunters and debt collectors by their hellhound kept them from being homeless. His car was still at the mythology mercenary agency.
For now, his income came from his knife skills. His steady hands and supernatural physiology allowed him to denerve a corpse eventually. It was made easier by the occasional black sparks that shot off the nerves revealing their hiding places. A demon had fully possessed the corpse's nervous system, but a potion killed the body and trapped the dark spirit. It was more like wrangling an octopus with millions of tiny legs.
He knew more about demons than he ever wanted to know. Three rituals a week had been an eye opener. Humans were bought and sold as ingredients. Once made into a brain box the item was sold again at a much higher price. That's where he came in. Nero could preserve almost every nerve without tainting the product with magic. In exchange for his work, he gained a higher stipend from the club.
Nero pulled the brain from its casing along with every black wiggling nerve attached to it. After tossing the mass of darkness into a box, he filled the box with a solution and topped it. A few nails later and the brain box was ready for transport. He tossed the rest down a chute.
"The zombies are going to eat well tonight." Annette said. Nero grunted and washed his knife off with some disinfectant.
"When will we summon something different?" Nero asked. He looked up to see a familiar expression. Why did all women seem to have the same look? One of three things were about to happen, she was pregnant, there was another guy, or they were breaking up.
"Nero, we need to talk." She wrapped her arms around his bloody form. He looked down into her fluttering eyes. Annette always wanted something from him.
"I haven't been honest with you." He narrowed his eyes.
"Are you pregnant?" Nero asked. Bang!
Her hand slapped against his face hard enough to kill ten men. Nero's barely felt it. A fang filled smile of embarrassment flashed before she smoothed it over.
"No, you are a caring, sturdy, and fascinating mortal. Despite my pleas and letters to my father, there is another after my heart." He caught on immediately.
"A vampire hunter right, rather brave of him to come to Jefferson. Even if he could get in the school, he'd probably vanish into the laboratory of some flesh puppeteer." Nero muttered.
"Most are too trusting of the false weaknesses we spread to ever pose a threat. No, I'll show you the dance of my predation another time." She let out a sad sigh. "My father has arranged my marriage to a warrior of a distant tribe."
"Ok," so their occasional screwing was coming to an end.
"Wood boy, you are far too sure of yourself to be intimidated. Even the scrap yard is nothing to you." Nero crossed his arms to his chest and sat back in his chair.
She took hold of his collar and shook him. "If you hold that belief you will die. He is a pure and a noble don't put him in the same place as the rabble of the scrap yard. Those known as warriors by my kind are fierce fighters and survivors of the war against the werewolves. Do you know what that means?" She released him and straddled his lap.
"He will not stand to be a cuckhold." Annette said.
"What if I kill him?" Nero asked. He leaned back against the chair while Annette freed his member from his pants. She hopped upon it with practiced ease. A fierce look of concentration took over her while she pushed his member through her opening. Velvet wetness swallowed him up before tightening like steel. The vampiress moved with the grace of an acrobat and the power of a machine press.
"You'd duel a noble warrior of a foreign tribe who was promised my hand, for me. He's a veteran and always ready for a fight. When he arrives, he'll be armed and armored? Every enchantment of war will be upon him. None of his techniques will have rusted."
Nero let her pound atop him. The metal chair screeched under them while she smashed against him. He grabbed her ass and pushed her down while the chair crumbled beneath them.
"He will be proud like a stallion and a disciplined soldier. My father will have told him about you and your exploits. He'll be ready for subterfuge. Undoubtedly, my betrothed will demand a martial trial by combat. Even with your strength he may be beyond you." Annette said.
Nero rose from his sitting position and smashed into her. He growled and smashed her against a wall. Her muscles spasmed at the move and shit eating grin spread across her face.
"Who does this warrior think he is? In Jefferson there are no rules, taboos, or morals. Only profit, progression, and prestige matter in that order." Nero sneered.
"Indeed, he will come with ghouls, the turned, and other nobles. The only way to fight him alone is to challenge him to a duel!" Annette cried out when he hit the spot she liked. Her grip increased to bone crushing levels until even he felt a little uncomfortable.
"It doesn't matter to me if I kill him with my fists, magic, or a knife. I'll kill him and take you over his body." Nero shouted. Annette giggled at his words like he'd promised her the world.
"Yes, fuck me over his corpse and let all the nobles watch. This is Jefferson, no king, no chains, and no taboos." He slammed into her and growled as he let himself cum inside of her.
"Just like that over his body. Is that what you want?" She looked up at him. Her fangs poked from her red lips.
"I want to lick his blood off of you while we mate." This place was making him stronger. He was free to follow any path in the school.
Behind him stood a tall figure made of golden light. It was all bone and wiggling nerves. Even so he could feel the power in the creature beginning to form. It was nearly time to perform the ritual. Nero would increase his guardian's power beyond its normal limits.
Nero poured acid over the black madra crystal and watched it dissolve in its glass beaker. Once dissolved into a black solution he began to heat it with black flare. He had a plan but it would take time.
Any sane man would sell a greater Black Madra crystal. There was little that could be done with it other than summoning demons and the blackest of necromantic rituals. It wasn't safe on mortal flesh. There was darker tactics he could turn to. The creation of a philosopher's stone was one tactic. Not the wimpy stone that produces a little gold and the elixir of life. Nero had in mind the true philosopher's stone. A hunk of red gem that contained the energy of thousands of souls.
One of those was nearly as contraband as the Black Madra itself. Killing a couple thousand people to make a red rock just to boost his healing ability so he could use the black rock wasn't viable. The value of the black madra is in its unrefined nature. It is the crystallization of desires.
Nero found what he wanted to hear; he found some texts that claimed anything could be refined through alchemy. How could he purify something for human use without losing what made the object valuable? It could be refined to become an even greater spiritual aid but that would make it even worse on the body.
Then how should he refine it? His answer was both better and worse. Time was the answer to his problem. The damage could be mitigated if slowed down the process. Instead of integrating it in a matter of days, months, or years, he'd absorb the energy in decades.
"How are the runic arrays holding up?" Nero asked.
A middle-aged man glared at the black liquid swirling in the beaker. Gilbert Pace was man of few words but excellent carving skills. There were many who called the college home.
"As well as can be expected." Nero posted a notice for anyone willing to show up. Most thought this would fail spectacularly.
Slowly, the liquid went from Nigredo to its Albedo phase. The runes covering the floor flared to life keeping the liquid from evaporating and poisoning them all.
"No signs of radiation or vapor poisoning yet." The solution was connected to a series of glass tubes to pass the moisture through a filter. Runic patterns covered the filters. Mystical herbs were ground into powder before mixed in with the filter. Nero turned up the heat and black vapor passed up the tubing and through the filter. Small drops of white solution dripped through the filter. More of his team members scanned for any signs of leaks.
"This is amazing. The black madra is in a white form but it hasn't lost any potency. No, it's more potent than before. A milliliter could kill a hundred men." Shadi Rudra their potions adept said.
Nero watched the solution drip into its container and prepared for the final step. He'd need to slowly heat the solution until it reached a plasma state. Two battle mages waited to cool down the solution. Once the solution was cooled it should be in Rubedo the final form of their alchemic process.
He'd never done this before. Increasing black flare to that level of head might kill everyone around him if the runes didn't hold.
They poured the solution into a vacuum sealed stone oven. It resembled an oven with hundreds of runic formulae to keep heat contained. Once the hatch was closed Nero placed his hand on the oven and began heating it. The runes lit up and burned into the stone oven. Several Norse runes took over and the white-hot stone cooled down. Knowing the stone oven wouldn't explode gave him the resolve to up the heat.
"Alright that's enough its time to cool down the solution." Nero pulled his hand away and watched the runes slowly die down. The scribes behind them wrote every step down while the black madra cooled.
With a turn of a crank and a rush of cold air his prize was revealed. A black marble no larger than a human's eye met his gaze. He reached in and plucked the object out.
Titanic was a word he rarely used for something so small. That was the only way he could describe the item. He hadn't integrated it yet, but he knew it was powerful. If the greater black madra had been a 1 then this object was a 100. The process of refining it had brought out its power.
He activated a portion of his monster side and opened the slit on his forehead. His vertical slit closed over the eye and he felt himself become more. When he returned to human form a black diamond appeared on his forehead.
That was when a painful headache set in.
Author's Note: Ok, three things next. The fight with the vampire noble, yes both Nero and Annette are 15 now, and the mist village is next. In the mist village the black mud mystery will be solved. Then the lightning thief.