A deep hum vibrates in my chest and into my throat as I nudge her wetted petals open with the tip of my nose. “Do as I say, and I will reward you.”
She doesn’t answer, not right away. It isn’t until I’ve laved my tongue against her tender bud that she finally gives in. It’s a cruel thing to do, to tease a woman, but I had to get my point across.
“I promise,” she breathes
Her conviction settles a war inside of me that was raging from the moment my fangs retreated from her flesh.
I groan, settling my face between her legs, suckling at the sensitive bead of flesh pressed between her heat. With chained hands, I seek the heated swell of her cunt with urgency and sink two fingers inside of her. When she comes around my fingers, soaked and panting my name, I feel my hesitations slip away. She would never risk her life for me, no, but I did not make the same promise. I was willing to risk what was left of my life if it meant I could have her this way for a few more stolen moments.
After that night, everything between us changed.
When she wasn’t reading scriptures aloud, she was painting their letters against my lips and covering every inch of skin with unspoken words. At night, we imbibed the other’s flesh, savoring the taste of blood and sweat. It was reckless, but we knew what precious little time we had. I did my best to dissuade her from doing anything more than feeding me. Father Bane might have been absent, but he was sharp. He would know it if she went looking for something in his personal items, like a key to myconfines. I gave her clear instructions to keep to herself and do as she was told, no matter what happened to me.
Unfortunately, things don’t always work out that way.
“I’ve sent the Sister off to town with the others so that you and I can spend a little time together,” Bane says one day, showing up out of the blue. He looks… renewed. As if I am suddenly interesting again. Somehow, his torture this time is worsened by the fact that Francesca will find me in bitter, ruined pieces when she returns.
That morning, he drains me, burns me with the sun from the one covered window in the room, and breaks my bones again, in the same places as before. Legs, hands, ribs, and fingers. The worst is when he pulls my fangs out, something he hasn’t done in a long time. His fury is palpable. After he’s had his fun, Bane leaves me in tatters in the church tower, yet again weakened by his heavy-handed tactics.
For three days and three nights after, I do not see Francesca.
On the fourth day, another nun brings me blood. She comes and goes too quickly for me to catch a glimpse of her face. No one comes for me until night, but there are two sets of feet instead of one, and the distinct sound of sobbing as one is dragged along by the other. I am horrified when Bane pushes through the door and throws Francesca at my feet.
“This heathen wretch has been feeding you, hasn’t she?” Bane booms.
Neither one of us answers. He can see our guilt plainly on our faces; he has his answer. When he pulls her up from the ground by her hair, he exposes the spot on her shoulder where my last bite marks her still. How foolish of me to forget my own rule. I had bitten her the night before without thinking about her safety. I curse myself now for being so selfish.
“What more have you done?” he snarls against her ear.
“Put her down!” I shout. “Put her down, she’s done nothing wrong! It was me, it was all me. I compelled her to do it.”
In truth, I don’t have the strength to compel anyone convincingly. Despite that, Francesca is a strong-minded woman. Even if her faith is shaken, her convictions make her who she is. I would never be able to compel her to do anything. Bane doesn’t know that, though, and for a split second, he believes me.
“I love him!” she cries out. Her confession, bold and true, rings louder than the church bells ever do.
We are all silent.
“He didn’t compel me. He’s never done anything to hurt me,” Francesca says.
Father Bane is unusually quiet, but his grip on her never falters. Francesca struggles in his arms, but he eventually lowers her to her feet. The relief hits her immediately, and hope ignites her face. She must think that Bane will let her go now that the truth is out. But I know Bane. I have seen his many faces over our time spent together. I know the look in his eyes, the set of his brow, and the turn of his mouth better than I know my own.
Bane is a mirror. The demons he wrestles with are as familiar to me as my own. Perhaps that is why he is always so exceptionally punishing toward me.
“You’ve been seduced,” he says.
“No, Father, no. He is kind!” she argues.
It is a fruitless and wasted effort on her part, but still she tries to make him see reason. I can’t fault her for trying.
“I shouldn’t have brought you here. I should have protected you better, sister,” Bane says.
“Father?”
“I will atone for this grievous sin.” The indifference in his voice worries me. He isn’t even looking at her as he speaks, no ounce of empathy or emotion to be seen or heard.
“Father, please spare him,” she begs.
He nods. “Spare you, my child. I will spare you before you are too far damned to see the light of Heaven.”
