Page 22 of You Only Die Twice

And perhaps I should. But not today. My need is far too great. Not too far from Gloria’s disposed carcass, I slam myself into Jackson, shivering at his shout of pain. Though it hurts him, his cock strains towards me, showing me the battle between his body and his mind.

Sliding my hand between us, I grab the swollen organ, gripping it in a tight fist, drawing another delightful cry from him. I play his body, giving him both pleasure and pain. Soon, he’ll learn to accept both from me, not satisfied with having one without the other. Same for Katrina. We will both brand her in our form of love, converting her to the religion where she worships us.

Just imagining her tight body trickling with blood is enough to tighten my balls, forcing seed deep into Jackson’s ass. I rock back and forth, letting his tight grip wrest the remaining bit of fluid from me as I pump my hand up and down. Soon, his body explodes as he comes, his ejaculation coating his stomach, similar to how mine was mere moments ago.

This time, however, there is no one to lap it up. In that sense, I’m saddened that Gloria is no longer with us. She did make such a good little cum vacuum, but I couldn’t allow her to live. Not after the plot I uncovered. Once she broke my trust, it would only be a matter of time before she did it again. Who knows. Next time, she might have succeeded.

My body tightens, my senses on high alert as that thought pounds through my brain. As much as I love toying with Katrina, teasing her, bending her to my will, I’ll need to turn her soon. That will be the only way to keep her safe. It’s far easier to kill a human than it is a vampire.

Pulling out of Jackson, I walk back over to the screens, studying the terror in her face as she falls deeper into psychosis. She’s going to break any day now, and we will be there to pick up the pieces. In the meantime, I need to make Russia as safe as I can for her. Once she unleashes the monster within, it won’t be a problem, but with her, that may take a while.

“I’ve sent coordinates and instructions to your phone. Clean up and get going. I will watch after Katrina while you’re gone. Remember,” I pause, turning to smile at my new protégé. “You have to kill the family’s head. Once he’s dead, all those under him will also die.”

He nods, picking himself off the floor. His footsteps are nearly silent as he walks past me. For a brief moment, he pauses, his fingertips skimming my lower back in a gentle caress, almost like a lover, as leaves.

Damn him. I shouldn’t feel anything for this man. Hell, I shouldn’t even give a damn about what happens to Katrina, but here I am, centuries-old and feeling fear for the first time since I can remember. This is why you don’t have precious things. Once they break, the shards cut deep.

I need to regain the control that feels like it’s sifting through my fingers like the snow as it melts across the tundra. Once more, I stare at Katrina, my lips pulling back into a grin. I still intend to play with my food; that part hasn’t changed at all.

CHAPTER NINE

Katrina

I stare at the windows, the curtains hauled back so I can see the outside. There is no concept of time. Not anymore. My phone doesn’t work. The clocks don’t work. The only thing to keep me company is the inane chatter on the TV, but even that is just noise. It’s repetitive, nothing like human company.

Rocking on the bed, I slip a hand down in between my legs. The only thing I can seem to manage is getting myself off and sleeping. It’s the only thing that actually passes the time. My skin is hot, feverish almost, and terror creeps back in. I must be sick. Whatever it is, I must have it.

The curtains flutter for a moment, just a hint of movement, enough to make me question if I even saw them. I stand, walking over to confront my tormentor. There’s no real pattern, just a dull brown that seems to swirl before my eyes. Groaning, I grip the fabric in my hand, my brain determined to get to the bottom of what’s really going on.

“I, too, find that shade hideous.”

A shriek flies out of my mouth as I whirl around, my eyes locking onto Luka. Arousal and fear thrum through me as he stalks forward, sending me backward away from him. Does this mean I’m asleep? I reach down, pinching myself. The sensation is dull, but it’s there.

Confusion swirls through my head as Luka fuzzes about the edges, the image of him splitting into two for a moment before coming back together. A glitch. That’s the best way to describe what I’m seeing. Some sort of weird, visual glitch. I bring my fists up to my eyes and rub them vigorously until speckles of lights appear behind my closed eyelids.

Phosphenes.

I remember reading that once, and for some reason, it stuck with me. Phosphenes. I let the word roll around my brain as colors spark behind my eyelids. It’s something real, tangible. I see it as clearly as I saw the shadows flitting about the curtains before I pulled them open.

Maybe it’s not real then.

Maybe none of it is.

Eyes still closed, I slump to the ground and draw my knees into my chest. I’m caught between a world where dreams and nightmares take up the same space. I’m walking around in a fog, unable to determine what’s real and what’s not. I used to think nothing would be an amazing feat to achieve. No worries, no care, nothing. Now that I exist in this world of nothing, I can no longer handle it.

I need touch. I need voices, even if they’re whispering to me to do all the wrong things. Somehow, I know it will feel all so right. Peeling my hands away from my face, I look back up at Luka, half expecting him to be gone, just like all the other phantoms in my mind.

But he’s there. He’s still there. Looking at me with an odd sort of fascination - like a scientist staring at a bug under a microscope. I’ve seen that look before. It was the same one Chet gave to me when I asked for him to spank me, only there’s no recrimination in Luka’s eyes, only curiosity.

I reach out, half expecting my hand to go through the mirage I’ve conjured, but it doesn’t. He’s solid. Real. Or as real as my addled brain can conceive. There’s still no proof this isn’t a dream. Though, dream or not, I’ll enjoy every bit of it while it lasts.

Rising up from the floor, I launch myself at Luka, nearly laughing at the look of shock that slides across his face for a brief second before he catches me. That, more than anything else, tells me that it’s just a dream. There’s no way Luka would ever be surprised. He seems to know everything at any given moment.

Once I’m in his arms, he wastes no time carrying me to the bed and laying me down. His cool breath pebbles my skin as his lips hover over my neck for just a moment. I can feel his hesitancy, though I don’t understand why. It’s a dream. We can do anything we want.

Hysterical laughter bubbles up from my chest as I push against him, determined to exert my own will. What’s the point of dreaming if I don’t push the envelope? He’s like a stone statue, unmoving as I shove up, attempting to push him over so I can straddle him.

He’s a relentless force pressing down on me, smothering me almost. Every breath is filled with his scent. It’s cold, just like him, as it burns my lungs. If I close my eyes, I can almost imagine being outside in the snow instead of on this infernal boat.