Kiss Me, Kill Me Read online

  On the other hand, he had saved us. And he hadn’t attacked us, which would be so easy for him in this deserted alley.

  He seemed trustworthy.

  Although, I was not the type to immediately trust a stranger. Especially a male stranger. A male stranger who was also a vampire? Nope.

  But what was the alternative? I mean, we couldn’t go to a hospital. Well, Greg couldn’t anyway. Would we—

  ‘Thank you, Lorenzo,’ said Greg, interrupting my decision-making process. ‘We’d be exceedingly grateful for your help.’

  ‘Come, come,’ said Lorenzo as he carefully scooped me up in his arms. He stood up smoothly and carried me as if I were as light as a feather.

  Claudio was brushing the pile of ash (vampires sure burned quickly) into a metal bucket.

  Lorenzo walked to the end of the street where a rather large black car was waiting. I was pretty sure it was a Rolls Royce. I was in no condition to be having a discussion about cars, my attention divided between not screaming from the pain in my hand and knee, and not passing out as my brain seemed to slop from one side of my skull to the other.

  I was laid on the back seat. Greg got in bedside me, gently lifting my head and manoeuvring under me so that I lay on his lap. There was wetness running down my neck. I wondered if it was blood from my throat that had trickled back there, or if I was actually losing grey matter out the back of my skull.

  From my supine position, I saw Claudio lifting the now-lidded bucket into the boot. He closed the boot, briskly walked to the front of the car, slid into the driver’s seat and, with Lorenzo beside him, drove off towards wherever it was we were going.

  Circumstances being what they were—that is, my fight responses had pissed off, and the adrenaline had done its thing—the pain began to take over. I attempted not to make too much noise. There was whimpering and crying, though.

  Greg endeavoured to calm me. He stroked my hair and kept assuring me everything would be all right soon.

  The farther we travelled, the worse I got. The neck wounds still felt as if there were red-hot pokers stuck deep in them. My hand was throbbing and felt fifteen times bigger than it should be, nerves screaming. My knee felt like it was on fire. My head was pounding, brain swimming and my vision went out of focus. I gnashed my teeth and yelled through them. I began shaking. Greg’s voice became increasingly frantic.

  ‘What are you doing, my friend?’ asked Lorenzo.

  ‘I’m going to give her some of my blood to heal her,’ answered Greg.

  ‘No, no,’ said Lorenzo. ‘Do not be too hasty. We must attend to her broken bones before she begins healing. Do not fret, we shall arrive at my home within minutes.’

  Things got blurry and confusing to me at that point. The voices were still talking. I couldn’t seem to focus on the words. My eyelids became weighted down and I lost the struggle to keep them open. I tried to stay conscious because I wasn’t insensible to certain facts.

  Although Greg was gradually healing, I was still bleeding. I was in a car, in a state where I was unable to defend myself, with two or possibly three vampires. Of the two definite vamps, one was a stranger—which in itself was quite frightening. The other was quite drained of blood and therefore would be ravenously hungry. In addition, I happened to be this particular vampire’s favourite fare.

  There was also the bucket in the back, containing Thighbone and Douche-something, who I was convinced would rise like phoenixes from the ashes and tear away at the good parts of me and drink my blood until I was totally finished.

  These were my last thoughts before I passed out.

  Chapter Sixteen

  I was aware of being carried from the car, but by whom, I could not say. I was laid down, and there was a flurry of activity around me. I heard Greg promising they would fix me and clean my wounds. He warned that it would hurt and asked me to be brave.

  I was held down. Someone started manipulating my hand. I screamed, and my eyes flew open. It felt as if every single muscle in my entire body contracted at once; I went rigid.

  After the initial shock, I began fighting to get away from Lorenzo, who was pinning me down, and Greg, who was my torturer of the moment.

  ‘Please, Ana,’ Greg begged, his voice desperate. ‘Please stay still; it’ll be over soon.’

  I was in no state of mind to listen to reason. I needed to escape this pain. I pushed against Lorenzo to no avail. My body went hot, and I became drenched with sweat. The nauseous feeling that was becoming too familiar hit me again.

  When Greg finally finished messing with my hand, I breathed raggedly, overwhelmed with relief. I still hurt like hell but at least things weren’t going to get worse.

  I held on to that belief for a few seconds. Until Greg began working on my knee.

  Utter agony—the cumulative effect making me wonder if I would expire from the pain. Making me wonder if it wouldn’t be better to just damn well die already. I cried and cried while people uttered what were supposed to be comforting words. Platitudes that meant nothing to me.

  It seemed the torture went on for hours.

  By the time Greg had finished reorganising the bits and pieces that made up my knee, I was heaving breaths like a post-race racehorse. My eyes were streaming, my nose running. I wouldn’t have been surprised if I was frothing at the mouth.

  I hauled in deep breaths, attempting to calm myself. It’s over, it’s over, it’s over.

  ‘Take a deep breath and brace yourself, my dear,’ said Lorenzo. ‘This will sting.’

  Oh, shit. He’s warning me now. So, what’s coming will be worse than what happened before? What the hell could be worse?

  ‘Aaaaarrrgh!’ I shrieked as I experienced something like acid being poured into my open wounds. I screamed more and thrashed more and begged and begged them to stop.

  ‘Lorenzo,’ pleaded Greg. ‘Is that necessary? Won’t the wounds clean themselves once we give her some blood?’

  ‘No. I’m afraid that since she is human, there is a risk of her blood being infected with the filth those villains had on them. We do not want these wounds healing with any infectious material inside.’ With that, my throat was doused with more acid or iodine or Napalm or whatever it was.

  Shuddering violently from the pain, I thrashed, trying to free myself. If it were physically possible for my brain to leave my body behind and scurry away, it would have.

  A wrist was pressed to my mouth. I tasted the coppery tang of blood. I grabbed hold of the wrist and sucked down my medicine, knowing it would make me better. Lessen the pain. My lids lifted slowly, and I was shocked to see that the wrist belonged to Lorenzo. I gasped and let go of my hold on him.

  ‘It is all right, my child. Your friend has lost too much blood this night and therefore I have offered mine.’ He gave me a nod and a benevolent smile as he extended his arm to me.

  Greg said, ‘It’s okay, Ana. Drink so you can heal.’ He stroked my hair and kissed the top of my head.

  I gingerly took Lorenzo’s wrist again and swallowed his blood until he informed me that I’d consumed enough.

  When Lorenzo moved away, Greg—who was kneeling beside the sofa where I was lying—grasped my face between both his hands and covered me with frantic kisses.

  ‘You’re going to be all right, my love. You will be,’ he assured me, or maybe himself, fervently. ‘Christ, Ana, I don’t know what I’d do if… If I lost you…I’d fucking die.’ I watched tears fall from his eyes and then felt their wetness on my face.

  ‘Come now, young man,’ said Lorenzo soothingly. ‘All will be well. She has been through much and needs sleep to recover. We will let her rest awhile.’

  Greg put his head on my chest and held on to me a little longer—until I was drifting towards sleep. He kissed me once more and then moved away. I wanted to ask him to stay with me but didn’t seem to have the energy to operate my vocal cords.

  Due to my lack of response and stillness, the men must have assumed I was already asleep. They began a conv
ersation in hushed voices.

  ‘Greg, you must drink this so that you may also heal. Tch, that savage has torn your skin to ribbons, no? Here, drink. You will recover presently.’

  There was a pause, then, ‘Human?’

  ‘Yes. But do not fear, no innocents are harmed. When my council are hunting for rogue vampires, we also discover despicable humans involved in activities that cannot be brought to the attention of human law enforcement. We cannot risk their punishment causing the discovery of the existence of our kind. Therefore, the human criminals are dispatched by the council. They are also exsanguinated.’ There was another pause and then Lorenzo continued. ‘And you, my friend—on what do you survive?’

  ‘Animal blood, mostly, and Ana brings me discarded samples from her work. She’s a scientist at a blood bank.’

  ‘Ah,’ said Lorenzo. ‘A prudent arrangement. Pray, do not think ill of me for my next enquiry, as you and I have much to speak of, and I believe we must be frank with one another. Did you meet your scientist friend before or after you became a vampire?’

  ‘Before,’ Greg answered evenly, not sounding the slightest bit offended.

  ‘Perfetto,’ exclaimed Lorenzo happily.

  I was having great difficulty concentrating on the conversation. Greg asked Lorenzo about ways of permanently disposing of a vampire. Lorenzo said beheading was one way. Another was burning by the sun or by fire. He mentioned that the two-pronged method of decapitation and burning was his usual MO for vampire elimination.

  I heard Greg asking about staking a vampire in the heart. Lorenzo replied that it would incapacitate a vampire for a while but eventually they would rise.

  Greg kept asking questions in a concerned voice. I discerned there was something important about those questions. My brain, however, could not focus. Thoughts flitted about in no sensible order, comprehension dancing just beyond my grasp. And as much as I struggled to keep listening, sleep claimed me.

  I was walking alone down a dark alleyway when I heard a familiar raspy laugh from behind me. I turned but couldn’t see a thing. I sensed, rather than saw, someone approaching. I spun around and broke into a run.

  I was almost at the end of the alley when he stepped in front of me, staring with those immovable black eyes. The male vampire, who now had gleaming razors in place of nails.

  He lashed out, slashing across my face and chest. I fell backwards into the bony arms of the female who struck viciously, sinking her teeth into the side of my neck.

  I yelled for Greg. ‘Help me. Please, Greg. Help me!’ It was useless. No sound came from my throat. My pleas would go unanswered.

  The vampires began shaking me. ‘Ana,’ they called. ‘Ana.’

  I woke on a scream. Greg was shaking me and calling my name. I was trembling. My hair was plastered to my head with sweat.

  ‘Thank God,’ I cried as I realised it was a dream.

  Greg held me close and spoke in a soothing voice, caressing my hair and telling me I was safe now.

  Safe. Safe was very good.

  When I had calmed down, Lorenzo offered me a sip of wine. I accepted it and then settled back down on the sofa. Greg continued stroking my hair and murmuring to me. My eyelids drooped and closed, weighed down with exhaustion. I wanted to fall asleep but was afraid of what might be waiting for me when I did.

  When Greg and Lorenzo eventually moved away, I opened my eyes again out of fear and kept them open as long as I could.

  The men were sitting in lounge chairs, their backs to me, but due to the angle on which the chairs were arranged, I could see both men partly in side profile. The room was dimly lit with only a floor lamp in the far corner and candles scattered here and there.

  Lorenzo had changed out of his black suit into a pair of elegant pyjamas in burgundy with gold pinstripes. He was a short and slightly rotund man with black hair. I’d noted previously that he had kind dark eyes, and now I noticed the strong Roman lines of his nose. His posture was straight. He had a benevolent older-guy vibe, his manner one of grace and authority. He was also not the kind of man to be trifled with. I attempted to block out the image of him holding a severed head.

  Greg got comfortable, lounging back in his armchair with his feet up on an ottoman. It seemed he was healing well. He’d showered and changed. I must have been asleep for a little while. Greg was currently wearing a borrowed white under-shirt and dark pyjama pants that came nowhere near approaching his ankles.

  Claudio wasn’t in the room. I perceived he was close by. Perhaps lurking just out of sight in the corridor. How did I know this? My sense of smell had been given a healthy boost from ingesting both Greg’s and Lorenzo’s blood. I’d experienced this phenomenon before when Greg had given me his blood following the car accident. It would wear off eventually, and in the meantime, I’d have to hope I didn’t come across anything particularly stinky.

  ‘Those savages,’ hissed Lorenzo. ‘They have tortured and tormented that poor girl. I will not rest until we have purged our city of every last one of them!’

  I learned from the subsequent conversation that the council Lorenzo had mentioned earlier, was a group of vampires who lived without killing innocent humans, and had been working for centuries to convert the evil vampires. They were vampire missionaries, I supposed. All vampires who would not conform and learn to live in a ‘civilised manner,’ as Lorenzo put it, were executed.

  I was amazed to find out that Lorenzo was getting close to two thousand years old. If I wasn’t so exhausted, I would have jumped up right then and started asking a whole bunch of questions about his history: where he’d been and what he’d seen.

  Lorenzo touched on his beginnings a little with Greg, thankfully obviating the need for me to jump up and do anything.

  He was born in Rome and came from a family of wealthy merchants. He’d continued his family’s business for many years and, during those years, had fallen in love with a young man named Quintus.

  Lorenzo had been turned into a vampire by an ‘evil, uneducated fiend.’ Not dissimilar to those we had encountered that evening, as Lorenzo pointed out to Greg. His maker, tired of a solitary existence, had chosen Lorenzo to be his companion.

  Shortly after this event occurred, Quintus’ father had fallen ill. Quintus had begged Lorenzo to accompany him to his home village to visit his dying father. Lorenzo’s lover had still been in the dark about Lorenzo’s misfortune. The new vampire, overcome with the craving for blood, turned down the plea. Lorenzo had feared he could not be in the close company of the family and assure their safety.

  Unfortunately, Lorenzo’s partner never returned from the village, succumbing to the same illness that had claimed his father.

  Lorenzo agonised that if he had been with Quintus, he would have been able to save him. Could have turned him. Lorenzo only learned what had happened after Quintus’ demise.

  He told Greg that he had wallowed in guilt, sorrow and self-pity for centuries, and only terribly slowly had he come to terms with his loss. He hinted to Greg that he had not completely gotten over it, and even after all this time, still lapsed into periods of despondency and sadness. On the bright side, his mission of ridding the city of the savages/fiends/villains/demons (he had a multitude of names for them) had revived his vigour and given him new purpose.

  ‘So, my friend, what of you and your Ana? It is obvious that you are very much in love. What thoughts have you about your future together?’

  ‘I don’t know. What happened today, and the story you just told me, scares me out of my mind. The only thing I’m afraid of—the one thing that frightens me—is losing her. Now that I know what it’s like to be with her…I don’t want to live without her.’

  ‘If she remains mortal, it is inevitable. Whether it happens now or sixty years from now.’ I could tell Lorenzo was trying to use a gentle voice to soften his words.

  ‘I’ve brought up the subject of turning her a number of times. She seems to shy away from it. Tells me she’ll think about it. But deep
down, I have doubts that she wants to become a being who survives on and craves human blood. And after tonight…’ There was a pause. A harsh sigh. ‘How could I even do it? Can you imagine, after what they did to her, what would happen if I sank my fangs into her throat and tried to drain the life from her? Can you imagine what it would do to her mind?’ Another pause. ‘Ana will have to decide, and I will have to abide by her wishes.’

  ‘I can’t tell you what to do, of course. But from my own experience, let me just tell you this. The love of your life comes along once in an eternity, and when they are gone, there is…nothing. You will suffer greatly from their loss. And eternity is a long time to endure.’ Lorenzo’s voice had turned husky.

  I wondered if he was shedding tears. I wasn’t sure what Greg was doing. Meanwhile, I was dampening the cushions of Lorenzo’s sofa as though my bawlers had made it their primary objective in life.

  I felt so sad for Lorenzo that I wanted to get up and hug him, but I was quite sure their conversation wasn’t intended for my ears. I felt terribly sad for Greg and needed to hug him, too. So badly. And goddammit, I was sad for me as well.

  After a period of silence, Greg spoke. ‘Lorenzo, I want to ask you a favour.’

  ‘Yes, of course, my friend. What can I do for you?’

  ‘If Ana decides to stay as she is—when the time comes—I want to ask if you could…put me out of my misery. Like you did with those two in the alley tonight.’

  I pressed my hand over my mouth to stop my internal anguish from making its presence known in a loud and messy way.

  ‘Come now, do not speak of such things. You are not a fiend to be beheaded.’

  ‘Be that as it may, I will need help if I don’t want to go on. Unless, of course, I let the sun do the job.’

  ‘That, I would not recommend. It is a most unpleasant and torturous way to exit this world.’ Lorenzo paused briefly. ‘I suppose the most humane way is a single sword strike to the neck.’

  ‘So, will you help me?’