top of page

Vampire's Key - Chapter Eighteen

Vampire's Key





Chapter Eighteen


“Gabriela Alexandra Torres Medina,” Lady Mortimer said, placing a photograph in front of the shackled prisoner.


Adrian’s gaze fell on the photo of the curly-haired Latina. She was pouting in the picture, her dark eyes staring down at the camera in seductive defiance. Adrian’s face remained expressionless.


Lady Mortimer continued, “Born 1st March, 1995. Gabriela has an elaborate and versatile history: kidnapping, robbery, drug trafficking, aggravated assault, burglary, damage to property, shoplifting. Impressive, considering her age. Mother deceased. Father serving a life sentence in the Penitentiary of New Mexico for felony murder. Older brother killed during a shootout with police after a failed armed robbery. Current whereabouts unknown. Younger sister missing, presumed dead.” She turned the photograph to face herself. “Pretty girl, isn’t she? I can see how you would fall for her. Beautiful features, long dark locks cascading over her shoulders, deep eyes that draw one in. Sadly, she has not had the best start in life. Born into a gang, lost her mother, raised by grandparents, no doubt. Is that why you tried to save her? Or did she charm her way into your bed? Or perhaps you were a target for her and her gang. I believe,” Lady Mortimer pulled out a file from her briefcase and flicked through the pages, “she started her own gang. Is that correct?”


Adrian’s eyes snapped up at Lady Mortimer. She wore another stuffy tweed suit that closeted her body in dull grey, like someone out of the 19th century. *She couldn’t be any further removed from the free spirit of Gabriela if she tried,*he thought. “You think I’m gonna help you, lady?” he asked. “I just got back from a balls-up of a raid and you have me arrested and thrown in the cells. And now you’re talking about some gang banger I’m supposed to know?”


“Yes, of course. The raid,” Lady Mortimer said, placing the photograph back down in front of Adrian.


His eyes flicked back to the image. *God, she was a beauty,*he thought, remembering the last time they’d been together. He’d held her naked, sweaty body in his arms, exhausted from a night of the hottest sex he’d had in a long time. She knew every position and what she could do with her tongue…


“I can see she had a deep impact on you. She was your girlfriend, wasn’t she, Adrian?” Lady Mortimer enquired.


The sound of his first name threw him momentarily and he looked back at her, uncertain if she were really going to help or, like her hair coiled tightly in a serpentine bun, was nothing more than a snake in an English lady’s clothing. The mask fell down over his face once more, banishing the hot memories and the semi hard-on that throbbed in his pants. “I don’t know what you’re talking about,” he said, deliberately avoiding the photo.


“We can come back to her,” Lady Mortimer advised. She pulled another file from her briefcase and opened it to an A4 page. “We have already received reports from the other two surviving members of your troop—”


“It wasn’t my troop.”


Lady Mortimer smiled coldly.


“Tell me,” Adrian began, looking up at the black globe that clung to the ceiling like a malevolent parasite. It offered the only contrast to the blandly whitewashed room. No pictures adorned the walls, and besides the table and chairs at which they sat, the room was largely bare. “Is he watching?”


“It must hurt,” Lady Mortimer continued. “Losing your girlfriend to a Matriarch. Sunita is a Matriarch, isn’t she, Lieutenant Frazer? And Gabriela was with you, wasn’t she; when your troop was wiped out?”


Adrian shrugged, wincing at the sharp pain in his shoulders. “I thought you said we were moving on.”


“It must be painful.”


“I’ll recover,” Adrian countered.


“I mean to lose someone you love very much. It hurts, doesn’t it? Worse when you know they’re not really lost. They’re just … changed. Did she feed on you? Did you want to become her server? That’s the lot of many men in their world, isn’t it? Or did you anticipate a higher role; a guardian, perhaps? After all, the days of the Vampire Lords have long since passed.” Lady Mortimer caught her breath. *The Vampire Lords. Why hadn’t she thought of that?*She held the thought at the back of her mind, reluctant to pursue it further until she was alone in her office.


“What?” Adrian said. “You think I want to be a vampire? Sounds like a classic case of projection, lady. Maybe you’re the one with the vampire fantasy. Maybe you secretly wish you were one of them. Is that it? Does that turn you on? You’d be the one with the server then, wouldn’t you? How would you feel about that? Maybe it would liberate that uptight ass of yours.”


Lady Mortimer went rigid, as though Adrian had ripped open her blouse, exposing her body and soul to the world.


“Is that it, Lady Mortimer? You want what they have? Care for a naked server, huh?”


She stared at him, trying to control the tightness in her stomach. Dark curtains hung beneath his eyes and a growth of stubble awaited the attention of a razor. Her chair screeched sharply as she got up and walked over to the barred window. Far below, foamy sea water lashed at boulders. Adrian grinned at her reaction. It faded quickly as the face of Gabriela drew him back to her and the memories of their last night together.


Lady Mortimer took a deep breath, straightened her suit jacket and composed her thoughts. America first, Lord Alexander had said. Annis Caves, second. She turned smartly, catching Adrian eying Gabriela’s picture. “She is pretty,” Lady Mortimer repeated, returning to the table.


Adrian cleared his throat.


“If you help me understand exactly what occurred in America, I may be able to use it to help your case here.”


“How?” Adrian asked. “I was sent here because they think I’m a traitor.”


“And yet Lord Alexander reinstated you,” Lady Mortimer proclaimed.


“Yeah, why was that? What does he want?”


“Tell me about Sunita, Adrian.”


Adrian sighed. His head dropped back and he stared at the whitewashed ceiling, following the haphazard pattern as if in search for a hidden meaning. His shoulders throbbed and a sharp pain swept down his back, a physical memory of the vampire’s talons. He grimaced, his lips and eyes drawn tight. Above him, the black orb stared back like an evil eye studying its prey. “You probably know more than I do,” he said finally.


Lady Mortimer sat still and pristine, like a Siamese cat posing for an artist. “Perhaps,” she admitted in her well rounded English manner. “But it may help me to help you.”


“You’re kidding me.” Adrian took a deep breath, decided to leave out the part about Gabriela’s sister, and began. “We were to clear a Hide in the caves at Slaughter Canyon, New Mexico. People had been going missing for some time; tourists mainly, those who’d stumbled into the wrong area or stayed there overnight. Well, we cleared the Hide and returned home.”


“How many were there?” Lady Mortimer asked.


“About ten. A few under — eight, I think.”


“Servers?”


“Seven. Well, eight, but most hadn’t been bit.”


“And?”


“We killed them,” Adrian confessed. “Along with three guardians.”


“And Sunita?”


“Nothing. But, there were old paintings on the walls; very old. I mean like pre-Kachina’s old. We took photos; they were passed on to HQ.”


“I saw them,” Lady Mortimer said. She hesitated for a moment, then added in a whisper. “Did you recognise the Vampire Lord?”


Adrian frowned. “They’re all dead. That’s why nowadays there’s only servers or guardians around.”


Lady Mortimer smiled curtly then asked, “And did you question the sisters?”


“Believe me, my troop had ways of questioning vampires that would have left the inquisition in awe. But they wouldn’t speak. So we killed them all. It was a routine clearance; more organised than the chaos you Brits created at the Annis Caves. Which makes me wonder, how many troopers returned in total from the Annis Caves?”


Lady Mortimer braced herself. “Three.”


Adrian’s face tightened. “Three? Out of how many troopers?”


“Almost thirty.”


“Tell me, Lady Mortimer, are such high casualties acceptable for British operations?”


Lady Mortimer stiffened in her chair. “We are not talking about British operations, we are talking about your troop,” she corrected.


“I guess my ass being on the line isn’t such a big deal then, is it?”


“Please continue. What happened to your troop?”


*She may as well be a cardboard cut-out,*he thought, studying the uptight, English lady. “We were set up in a small non-place called Datil. We’d settled down for the night. As far as we were concerned, the infestation had been dealt with, but we still set up an apotropaic perimeter.”


“What did you use?”


“We started with the Circle of Solomon, that was around the whole place. I guess our spiritual guy wasn’t up to much because that didn’t even slow them down.”


“You saw them coming?”


“I heard them. I was holed up in my room, studying the images and writing the report.”


“Yes, I read your report.”


“Which makes me wonder why I’m wasting my time telling you exactly what I fucking wrote down.” Adrian slammed his hands on the desk, immediately wincing at the shock waves that hit his shoulders.


Lady Mortimer jumped, then quickly said, “I saw the images. Fascinating, especially the one depicting the Vampire Lord. Do you know his name?”


Adrian shook his head.


“So what happened next?”


“I heard the front door break open. Followed by an explosion.”


“Explosion?”


Adrian nodded. “Yeah, but not like a grenade. It was like a sonic earthquake that burst through the house, fracturing the door to my room and smashing me against the far wall. I ended up underneath a wardrobe. That’s how I survived.”


“I thought Gabriela saved you?”


Adrian gritted his teeth.


“Was she worth the price?”


“What price?”


“Your troop? Men that had given up everything to fight this Holy War. Sacrificed themselves to protect us.”


Adrian cracked his knuckles. “You know what, lady?” he said. “I’ll tell you about this troop of mine. You give them far more credit than they deserve. They could just as easily have been gang bangers. Extortion, murder, kidnapping. Add rape and torture to that list. Their loss, as hard as this might be to hear, was of more benefit to this fucking world than the pitiful Hide we wiped out. They were all young vampires. None more than a decade old, I’d estimate. No Clan Mother and, no, no Sunita.”


“So who killed your troop?”


Adrian shook his head. “I don’t know.”


“Sunita or Gabriela, or another of the Sisters of Kachinas?”


“That’s just a name. Just like the Sisters of Annis. They all come from the same place: the Dark Goddess. Fuck! You’re supposed to be helping me and all you’re doing is fishing for some stuff about this gang girl.”


“When did you last see her?” Lady Mortimer asked, pushing the photo nearer to Adrian. “It must have been a while. Do you miss her?”


Adrian’s voice was low and even. “That’s enough.”


“Coffee?” Lady Mortimer asked. “You look tired.”


“I am, lady.”


“Then let’s break for a few minutes,” she suggested, collating her files and replacing them in her briefcase. She left the picture of Gabriela on the table, slyly watching Adrian’s reaction.


“Food, too,” Adrian said.


“Of course.” Lady Mortimer got up, taking her briefcase with her, and walked smartly to the door. It opened promptly and she disappeared. The door snapped shut behind her, leaving Adrian alone in the whitewashed room. The solitary eye stared down at him. The photo of Gabriela stared up. Almost immediately, the door opened again. Lady Mortimer re-appeared. She walked over to him, placed another photo on the table and said. “I’ll get those drinks.”


The colour drained from Adrian’s face. It was Gabriela again. His beautiful Latina. Her dark eyes framed by plucked eyebrows and long lashes. Foundation smoothed her unblemished skin and a black bodice was lashed across the round form of her chest, baring the inner curves of her breasts. Kneeling before her was Adrian. His hand in hers, looking up at her as a knight admires his Queen.


Vampire’s Key


Vampire's Key is available on the following websites:


Recent Posts

See All

Slipping Forth From the Darkness

I keep returning to the fact that I am hiding from the reality of what I am writing, that, in some way, I have created an alter-ego that promotes what I write, that writes the dark erotica featuring t

JOIN THE MAILING LIST

Thanks for subscribing!

© 2023 P.G. DEVLIM
Site Designed by Fifth Estate Designs

bottom of page