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“Is it the sex itself, or lust?”
“Is there a difference?”
“I’ll leave that for you and Marco to discuss. Tell me why this was necessary.”
“I needed to understand how it feels to be on the other end of what I can do.”
“That’s part of it.”
“An object lesson of what will happen should I fuck up and hurt someone bad.”
“Another part of it.”
“What other emotions can be fed from?” she asked. “Is lust an emotion?”
I shook my head. “Stay on target. Why else might it have been necessary for me to give you this object lesson.” Not the wording I’d have used, but I’d use her own vocabulary in the hopes the lesson would reach her psyche better.
She closed her eyes a few seconds, and looked as if she was in pain when she opened them. We’d need to work on her poker face, for sure.
“You’re going to make me hurt someone.”
“Excellent. It’s nice teaching someone with a brain.”
I telepathed Ryan and Marco. I’m bringing her out. We’ll be ready for the duck shifter after she feeds from one of her men.
I wasn’t aware of the final dollar amount Ryan and Marco had come to, I only knew the slayer would be present as an observer, and he’d agreed to telepath Marco and me with any concerns he had, rather than undermining me by speaking them out loud in front of Kelsey.
I put my arm around Kelsey and helped her walk out. She was much stronger than one would expect for a vampire her age, but she didn’t recover anywhere near as well as an older vampire would after being put through that ordeal.
I told her men she needed to feed, and the sexy-as-sin leopard was up and had her in his arms in two seconds. He carried her to the sofa, adjusted her so her mouth was at his neck, and told her, “Take what you need, Cupcake. I have you.”
I rolled my eyes at them. If anyone called me cupcake, I’d hurt them. Vampires aren’t supposed to be called by cute names. Ever.
Ryan walked in with his prisoner, and I noted how long it took for Kelsey to react — much longer than was healthy for a vampire. She was trusting her men to keep her safe, and that needed to stop. She needed to be aware of her environment, and to react to defend herself in a microsecond.
Chapter 22
Ryan
The Slayer sect I grew up in focuses on raising little sociopaths. Any tendency towards empathy is addressed so the child understands their own happiness and longevity are in danger if they in any way concern themselves with the pain or happiness of another. It was hammered in, hard, that the Creator put Slayers into the ecosystem to kill the monsters and protect the humans. We were not here to make friends. Also, it’s a quantity over quality game — if three innocent humans had to die to protect ten innocent humans, we were to kill the three without a thought to the ramifications. We couldn’t kill all the monsters because it created war with the Concilio, so we could only kill the monsters who were a danger to humans, but there were more than enough of them to keep us busy.
It's different, in the town I now live in. Kids are brought up with empathy, and with judgment about right versus wrong, good versus evil.
But I was not raised this way, and part of me loves the thrill of the kill. My dick gets hard when I torture people, my soul vibrates with ecstasy when I kill. I can usually hide this, but I let a little of my glee out once, when Kirsten showed me an injury, and I know Cora picked up on it, though she didn’t say anything. The truth is, I wished I could’ve seen the injury being made, despite the fact I didn’t especially want to hurt Kirsten or to see someone else hurt her. She’s my friend, but the visual hit me in all the right ways.
All this to say, I had to make a decision as to how I wanted to handle watching Etta force another vampire to kill.
Should I lock everything down so she got nothing from me? Or should I let her sense what it would do to me? My guess was that Kelsey would be so focused on following orders, she wouldn’t much notice me, after a while — especially if I faded into the shadows behind her, but in sight of Etta.
When in doubt, go with your gut, so that’s what I decided to do — show Etta a little more of who I really am.
The first part of the training session was brutal, but I sat quietly and watched. After a little begging and pleading from the duck shifter, Etta went into his head and blocked his ability to form words. He could still scream and whine, but he sounded more animal than human.
Did I enjoy this so much because my Slayer abilities let me sense the guilt rolling off him? He’d known he was doing evil things, and while there was no remorse, there was relief. It wasn’t the first time I’d sensed it, and I’m convinced that for some, raping is a compulsion, like gambling or doing drugs.
No matter how the person feels, guilty or not, I thoroughly enjoy watching someone die a painful death when they know the pain will only end when they die. How they feel about it flavors how I enjoy it, sure, but I enjoy it nonetheless.
My morals force me to stop such activities when the person has done nothing wrong, but my inner Slayer would drink the life force in and rejoice in it whether they were guilty or not.
