October - Belladonna (Patreon)

Her blood called to me. I raced through the alleyways, feeling my heart beat for her, slamming against my chest in exertion. Fear blinded my vision and an inexplicable wave of nausea fell over me as I turned the corner, stumbling. I could hear her screams. They were loud. So, so loud. Why couldn’t anyone else hear them? My fingers scraped against the walls as I tried to steady myself and keep from collapsing. I could feel the bite of someone else's nails. The way they dug into the delicate turn of her wrist. The way they pinned her. Took a knife to her throat. Anxious for a Baronhood they did not understand. Her screaming was so loud it was deafening and I knew before I got there that I would be too late. I didn’t know how I was supposed to look the next Baron in the eyes, knowing what they had done. How was I supposed to greet them when Belladonna’s wit and smile were no more because of greed?

I turned the corner, tears already splashing my cheeks as I anticipated the paleness of her eyes, devoid of life. I saw how they stared at me, one iris blown and bloody, neck bent at an angle, her dark hair pooled around her in an inky mass of blood.

I sucked in a breath. The woman on the floor was not Belladonna. Nor was the blonde haired woman next to her. Or the dark haired man that lay crumpled nearby. The blood that pooled around them all was still fresh and the alleyway smelled coppery with that faint tinge of magic. Belladonna was not dead on the ground. She was instead sitting on top of one of the women I had first laid eyes on, looking up at the lanterns.

Blood soaked the front of her dress, her dark lace ripped and wet. Her chin was coated with gore and the ends of her normally vibrant hair looked nearly black as the strands clumped together.

“Bella?”

She blinked, looking at me in sheer surprise. “Dear heart, what are you doing here?” She was blood drunk. I could always hear the difference when she had over indulged in someone. Her voice became slightly higher and her words had a smoothness to them that was a direct undercut to her normally sharp vowels.

“I–” I took a step forward. “I heard you screaming.”

Her eyes rolled downwards to the dead beneath her. With one hand, she ran a finger across the dark haired woman's cheek, cutting into the fleshy swell of youth with the tip of her nail. No blood welled from the wound.

“That might have been her,” she said.

The woman had died in terror. Belladonna made a point of making her bite pleasurable for me and at least enjoyable for others. I knew, however, how quickly that could all turn.

“It wasn’t her,” I said. “I wouldn’t have heard her.” There were people who were hurt every day in the market. Right or wrong, good or bad, they were everywhere. Hearing the sound of their pain even as a dull thrum would be enough to drive me insane. For my own sanity I had driven those voices from my head. But I could hear my Barons. I could hear the ones I was close to. Belladonna happened to be both.

“Oh?” Belladonna was still looking at the woman beneath her. I noticed she not only had her neck ripped out but her chest was gaping as well. “Strange.”

I cautioned to take another step forward. She was not in her monstrous form. I had only seen that a handful of times. But this placid, nearly doll-like demeanor was something new for me. She didn’t look as if my presence was unwelcomed. Then again, a welcoming hand could also seal my death.

“Bella, why don’t you get up,” I suggested. I wanted to get her away from the bodies. I needed to get a hold of Gabriel before a member of the guard stepped in our path. In order to do any of that, I needed her to be safe somewhere that no one could get to her.

“I am fine here, thank you,” she said, almost dreamily. “That one isn’t dead yet.” She pointed to the blonde haired woman within arms length of her. The woman's eyes were open and watery, looking to me for help. Her breath was shallow and I could see her lips moving in such a way that indicated she was trying to speak. Blood dribbled from her mouth however and I had a strange feeling there wasn’t a tongue to speak with.

“Bella…” I trailed off. There wasn’t anything I could say. If we left, the woman might be able to get help. Someone might run across her, but I also had this small little seed that I often kept hidden. The one that said maybe they deserved this.

“I was hoping they would all take some time,” Bella sighed. “The man went first, proving he was the weaker of the species. Then this one here.” She curled her finger around the dead woman's black locks. “Then again, I played with her the most.”

The blonde whimpered, hand reaching out for me.

I side stepped her, putting myself between her and Belladonna. Maybe it was for safety. Or maybe it was because I couldn’t bear to look at her much longer. “I want to get you home,” I told Bella, trying to keep my voice light. “You’re covered in blood.”

“I like being covered in blood,” she mused. “I don’t do it often enough.”

“You’d get your books dirty if you were covered constantly.”

“True,” she pouted. “That would be a shame.”

“It would. Let’s get home,” I held my hand out, watching her eyes drift down to my clean skin with a frown. “Come on,” I continued to urge. “We don’t need to wait for her to die. That could take some time.”

“It won’t,” she practically snorted. “The woman should have died already. I’m honestly a bit impressed.” She then peered over at the woman. “If you weren’t such a bitch I would have turned you.” Bella hopped off the body then, placing her hand in mine. When she brought my bare knuckles up to her lips, she pressed a kiss there, leaving a bloody smear. “Fine. We will go. I know you don’t like carnage.”

She made a point of stepping over the bodies as she led me out of the alley. I couldn’t help but notice how warm her skin was. I wondered if she had drunk from more than just the crumpled forms behind us. It wasn’t something to ask her, though. I wanted to get her home and into a warm bath where I could make sure she was okay.

“I can hear you fretting, dear heart,” she crooned. “Why are you upset?” When I didn’t immediately respond, she clucked her tongue. “Really, my heart. They were not good people. I thought you agreed that the occasional kill was fine as long as they weren’t good.”

“I never agreed to that,” I told her. It was something she had implemented, offering it to me like some sort of compromise as she weighed and measured human life. “That’s not what is upsetting me either.”

She frowned. “I thought you would be more upset over three lives. Have I desensitised you?”

“No, Bella,” I sighed. “I– I heard you scream. I thought you were about to die.”

I was pushed up against a wall, my spine straight against the rough slabs of stone. She was crowding me from the front, the blood from her victims smearing against my own clothes as she dipped her head, nosing at the pulse at the juncture of my neck.

“You were worried?” she asked, her lips ghosting across my skin. Unconsciously I tipped my head to the side, giving her more access.

“Of course I was worried.”

“You heard me scream?”

So she admitted it. I don’t know why, but hearing her acknowledge it sent a shiver down my spine. “Yes.”

“I’m sorry.” Her breath was warm, puffing against the curve of my neck. I should have been repulsed by the squish of blood and something else between us. But she was warm and alive and her tongue came out to lick the sweat from my skin.

“What happened?” I didn’t want to know. I didn’t want to hear how close I had come to losing her. But I didn’t want her to keep it all a secret either.

“Another attempt at taking my role, dear heart. Nothing more.”

My hands came to rest on her hips. “It feels as if they almost succeeded this time.”

She gave a non committal response.

“Did they?”

“Perhaps.”

My eyes fell shut and I swallowed down the shudder that was begging to rush through my body.  How much of the blood on her was her own? How many wounds had healed before I had reached her.

“Dear heart,” she whispered, beckoning me to open my eyes again. When I did, I stared into the molten pools of her gaze, her fangs peaking out from her smile. “I had it all under control,” she tried to assure me. “They were coordinated and they were fast, but they were ultimately, not me. And now my belly is full of warm blood and you are here in my arms. All’s well that ends well.”

“That’s not funny,” I croaked.

“Was not meant to be.” Leaning forward, she pressed her lips to mine. The coppery tang of blood hit my tongue as she plied my lips open and pressed herself against me. I was tasting the dead. Letting her transfer some of that life force into me and coating my tongue with death. I heard myself whimper at the taste, my body melting into hers like it always did.

When she pulled away, she dragged her fang across my bottom lip, staring hungrily at the blood that welled there. “Let’s go home,” she said.

I could hear commotion in the alley beyond. The guard had discovered the bodies. I would have to do some damage control with Gabriel later. Right now, I was more focused on getting Belladonna out of here because given her mood, she would kill any of the guards that came our way.

“Let’s go home,” I said. I took her hand, noticing the marks on her wrists. They looked as if she had been restrained. There was blood under her nails from where she had fought and I could see a mottled bruise around her neck along with a gash. I thought I had seen a knife under the body of the man but I couldn’t be certain.

I swallowed down my fear. My pain. My desire to scream. I just needed to get her home. Our home. 

Everything would be fine if we could just go home.

Belladonna grinned lazily as she sauntered down the alleyway. “I need you to come find me after every murder attempt,” she mused.

I swallowed thickly because now I was wondering just how many of them there were.