Anthony Francis - Frost Moon

"You called," he said, his deep voice sounding more like Lurch from the Addams Family than the whine of everyone's favorite angstridden gothy vampire. "I trust it was urgent."

Delancaster lived in the Little Five Points District-not far from me in Candler Park, actually-but not as Savannah's subject; as her ruler. Officially his full title was Lord of the Vampires for Georgia, making Savannah kind of like a mayor in the world of vampire politics.

"Lord Delancaster," Savannah said, smiling, bowing deferentially to the vampire. I wondered how smart giving her a court was: 'Saffron' was extremely powerful for a such young vampire, and history was filled with empires toppled because the heirs were eager to inherit. Vampire nepotism might make it just as hard to hold onto power.

But, watching her bowing… I remembered this was Savannah. For all of her supposed power, she was still a wet-behind-the-ears twenty-seven-year-old with a submissive streak. She was obviously treating this like some kind of grand game where she was the star player, and by letting her ham it up Delancaster had no doubt wrapped her round his finger.

Savannah was up and talking again. "Thank you for coming on such short notice."

"That is… quite the outfit. Going out for Halloween?" Lord Delancaster asked, kissing her hand. As he did so, he caught sight of Doug's cage and flinched. "Oh my. Hello, Douglas. I take it you are not going out tonight."

"Hello, RJ," Doug responded, nodding briefly. "Not like this, no."

"Well, my Lady Saffron," the Lord Delancaster said, with a forced smile. "Your court is always a show."

"Tell me about it," I muttered. "The sight of a three hundred year old vampire flinching alone was worth the price of admission."

"Be nice," Savannah said icily. "I'm sorry, my Lord Delancaster. My supplicant here interrupted the Lady Darkrose and me during our play."

Lord Delancaster looked at me.

I've heard you're not supposed to look vampires in the eyes, but I've never had any patience for that, so I just stared straight back at him. His eyes were fine amber; they would probably glow gold if he exerted his power, giving me a chance to flinch if I needed to; but apparently he had far too much control for that. "You must be Miss Frost," he said. "The young lady who almost kept my Lady Saffron from me."

"The one and only," I said, tilting my head. I had a whole list of other things I had always wanted to say to the bloodsucker who stole Savannah from me, but I gritted my teeth and kept it to, "Best magical tattooist in the Southeast."

But Delancaster caught some of what I had not said from the look in my eyes. "You have a fire in you," he said. "I can see why she nearly turned down my offer of eternal life-"

"You don't have that to offer," Savannah said coldly.

"Bodily immortality, if you prefer," the Lord Delancaster said, bowing. "Or agelessness. I meant no offense to your religious beliefs-"

"Fine, fine, fine," I said, before he could get Savannah started on that again. "We're all one big happy vampire family, respecting each other's beliefs, and even managing to pretend Doug's whing-whang isn't hanging out. All that still leaves me wearing this stupid collar just so I don't have to worry about other vampires gnawing on me while I go consult with a graphomancer they're guarding. So whatever you're here to do, let's do it, so I can get on with it. I am on the clock."

Lord Delancaster looked at me, face oddly blank. "Very well," he said, his mask of humanity seeming to filter away, leaving something cold, ancient and impersonal. "Please tell me this one is willing to give blood-"

"No, and no on other bodily fluids," I snapped.

He looked at Savannah, humanity flooding back into his features. "Then how is this going to work-"

"We're going to use a finger stick," she said, stepping behind the wet bar.

"Of course," Lord Delancaster said, tapping his fingers to his forehead. "This is the twenty-first century. But that will only grant a partial protection. I will still need to taste-"

"No," I repeated.

"Your aura," he said pointedly. "Your aura will do-"

"And what precisely is the purpose of this?" I asked. "Why isn't the collar enough protection? Can't you just use your vampire telepathy to put out the word-"

"Vampire… telepathy?" Lord Delancaster said, puzzled.

"You can't fool me," I said. "She summoned you without ever leaving her chair."

"I called him from the bedroom," Doug said. "He has a cell phone."

"To answer your question, my Lady Frost," Lord Delancaster said, "While many of us in the vampire community desire to be a part of the normal human world, others do not. When you asked for our protection, you called on much older rituals. In the olden days, if you had asked for our protection, I would have drunk your blood, tasted your flesh and bathed in your aura, and then, if you were attacked, even if the body were well hidden, I and the other close members of my court could sense your blood in his veins and scent out whether he'd despoiled you."

"So drink my blood and you're a walking vampire crime lab," I said. "Neat. Let's call CBS and see if they're interested in doing CSI: Vampire Atlanta."

"I like that," Lord Delancaster said. "That's more appropriate than you know. With the finger stick, I no longer need to drink your blood, and with modern rape kits, we were already considering phasing out the tasting part of the ritual. But there was another purpose to the tasting; the fluids your body produces are charged with your life force and transmit the essence of your aura. A drop of blood from a wound won't do it. If I cannot bite you or taste you, I will still need to feel your aura."

"What's that going to involve?" I asked, trying to keep contact with his tiger eyes and glancing away, nervous. Savannah came out from behind the wetbar with a small medical kit. She sat herself down on a barstool and patted for me to join her. As I did so, Lord Delancaster came to stand behind me, placing his hands gently on my shoulders. I looked sideways at them, swallowing: his fingernails were long and sharp, like claws.

Savannah pulled out a small orange piece of plastic and grabbed my hand. Actually she didn't grab it, she just took it gently. But her grip was like steel, completely unyielding, and I bucked uselessly. "Hey, wait-"

"I don't want to lick a slide," Delancaster said.

"Doug, fetch us a spoon," Savannah said, matter-of-fact, holding the orange thing over my finger and preparing to jab. I tried to twist away, but her grip tightened. "Hold still."

"You're hurting me," I said. "And not the right, it's my tattooing hand."

"My Lady Savannah," Lord Delancaster breathed, voice so close to my ear that I felt my heart flutter. "Be nice."

Savannah glared at me, then her eyes flicked aside to Lord Delancaster. Finally she let go my hand. "I'm sorry. But if you want our protection we do need to do this."

Lord Delancaster's breath was warm and alive in my ear, and I could feel his power prickling over my skin. "O-okay," I said, holding out my left hand.

Savannah took it, pricked my forefinger quickly, and squeezed slightly. A dark, red drop of blood welled up, and her lips parted with a small sigh like a little orgasm. Mesmerized, she took the spoon from Doug like a sleepwalker, squeezing my finger gently to release the flow of blood. She looked up at me, squirming on the seat, eyes filled with as much lust for my blood as she had ever had for my naked body-and then Lord Delancaster's lips brushed my throat.

"I will not break the skin," he said, breath spreading across my neck, deep voice thrilling through me down to my very toes. "I promise."

"O-okay," I repeated dreamily, leaning back against his hard body, slipping my thumb into the buckle of my belt, letting my fingers play over the buttons of my pants as Savannah drained more blood into the spoon. Now I wished I had taken her up on her offer to strip; this was so intimate, so erotic that all my clothing, my armor seemed… inappropriate.