Take Me

3ALDRIC

I neededa walk to clear my head. That was the excuse I gave Theon, and it allowed me to escape the throne room and then the castle itself. The air was drier than a corpse’s cunt, and an ever-present breeze stirred up fine particles of sand until they were battering my face—not painful, but irritating.

I’d still rather wander this wasteland than spend another minute pretending there was anything remotely normal about what I’d heard.

Jett. He had married Jett and made him a king. What else had I missed while piecing together my plan?

That answer made itself evident, at least partly, as I traveled the city on foot. It rose up in the middle of the desert like a mirage, only it offered little comfort or solace. What a miserable place. Desolate with endless heat and little hope of relief.

Those unfortunate enough to call Syn their home found other means of comforting themselves. I passed such an establishment not a minute’s walk from the castle, the curtain which served as a makeshift door pulled aside so that passersby might observe the happenings within. As disinterested as I was in joining the activities, the smell of sex and the sound of wanton lust drew my attention to a trio of Synians taking pleasure in a willing maiden.

“More!” she screamed, already impaled on two Synian cocks while stroking the third.

A fourth male happily joined the throng, freeing his cock and shoving it in her mouth while her lovers marked her skin. Blood trickled over her in thin rivulets while she screamed with pained ecstasy.

For some reason, the scene sent a shudder of revulsion through me. It took no more than a moment for me to understand why.

My Omega. I craved her, needed her. I wouldn't be satisfied until I had her again…until I made her scream as pain and pleasure swirled together. Until she screamed for her daddy. Until her throat bled the way I’d make the rest of her bleed.

Frustration forced me to tear myself away from the sights and sounds of carnal pleasure, and I continued walking down one narrow street after another. Structures sat seemingly on top of one another, a haphazard mess. I passed another open doorway and found three wretched creatures clustered together just inside. They sat, swaying slightly as they twitched and scratched at invisible insects. Maidens who’d been cast aside once they’d outlived their usefulness.

The sound of mixed voices grew louder as my feet carried me toward the heart of the city where shopkeepers were peddling their wares. There were more shops than I recalled, but the biggest surprise of all sat at the center of the square. Several maidens in various states of addiction were lingering around a circular structure composed of stacked stone. They were carrying buckets, and I soon realized each was awaiting her turn to lower her bucket and draw water from a well.

Water in the desert.

Synians did not require water, so establishing a vampire city in the middle of a desert was no great hardship for us. We were the only living creatures who did not require hydration in that sense. On the other side of that coin, naturally, was that the maidens we fed from required water to survive.

Someone had discovered a means of solving that problem. But who and when?

I was too deep in thought to notice a creature approaching who brought to mind a skeleton with skin stretched over her bones. She barely had any flesh, her skin little more than a hideous tapestry of bite marks. Her eyes bulged from their sockets—crazed and glittering.

Yet still she writhed against me, lost in mindless, endless need.

She let out little more than a series of frenzied moans, hips thrusting against me in an obscene parody of the sex act. My nose wrinkled in disgust before I tossed her aside. She fell hard, landing on the ground with a thud I was sure had broken her bones. Yet all she did was laugh—a high-pitched noise that was nearly a shriek.

It was enough to unsettle even me. There was nothing more vile than a hopeless bite addict. I turned my back on her and continued toward a familiar structure that stood out from the others. It had a bright red awning, the fabric as red as blood.

Inside, it was dark and cool, and some of the mindless shrieking, screaming, and moaning were distant enough that I could hear myself think again. This was more than a matter of time playing tricks on my memory. Syn had changed, and while I had never called it my home, I felt downright unsettled at the difference.

That wasn't the only change.

I believed this to be the shop of an associate, one with whom I'd joined forces to smuggle items otherwise unavailable. Comforts, anything to ease the torment of being trapped in this hellscape. Yet instead of selling comforts smuggled in from beyond the Bay of Blood, the walls were now lined with bolts of fabric, gold chains and earrings, bottles of perfume, and other trinkets. Had the shop changed hands as well?

“Well, well, well. I never imagined I would set my eyes upon you again.”

The sound of a familiar voice brought more relief than I'd expected. “My favorite smuggler. Still peddling your wares?”

“Different wares than I once provided,” the shop steward answered.

“So I see.” I ran my fingers over a bolt of what felt like silk but was more likely a cheap imitation. “What inspired this? Do not tell me you decided to turn legitimate.”

His booming laughter filled the tight space. “I would rather throw myself into the Bay and dive as deep as I could manage.” He peered at me through his one good eye, the other lost long ago and now covered with a leather patch.

“What is it, then?” I asked.

“Don't tell me you haven't taken note of the changes in Syn since last you called it home.”

I’d never called it home, but I let that pass. “That's the reason I came to see you, to ask what's gone on since we last met.”