Read Tyran's Thirst (Blood Lust) Online
Authors: Erika Lindsen
Tyran grabbed me by the wrists and forced me into a stock
room. He slammed the door behind us and stacked chairs and
desks against the door. I was frozen until I heard Sherri’s blood
curling scream outside. Tyran gathered me in his arms, covering
my ears until Sherri finally went to sleep.
Hands were kneading the muscles of my back. At some
point I had fallen asleep. The room was so pitch black that I
couldn’t even make out the silhouette of my fingers. I knew it was
Tyran taking away the stress. My head leaned back to his forehead.
His arms wrapped around my stomach as he placed kisses on my
neck.
Heat washed over me. Every sense in my being told me
Tyran was trouble. I was his food. He wanted me dead. Yet I
couldn’t bring myself to stay away from him. He made me smile,
which was something no person had done for me. He found meals
for me, which I had issues doing. The signs pointed to a man that
cared. But I knew I was just a means to an end for him and a good
lay.
I stood and felt my way around the room. Slamming into
the boarded up door, I began taking down our protection. Tyran
was next to me in seconds. When the door was cleared, he opened
it first and peered out. My breath was held, praying I wouldn’t see
or hear any flying creatures.
He helped me from the stock room. The station, which used
to be perfectly organized and stocked, was in shambles. Every can
was knocked to the floor and its contents were spilling. The sodas
were smashed together in a heap of liquid. And the worst part was
the lake of blood in the middle of the floor. Both Mark and Sherri’s
bodies were gone. With no other way around I stepped through
their remains and headed for the way out. My scooter was lying on
the curb. The engine had died. It was out of gas.
I cut him off.
“It will always be there. The monsters will
keep coming and spread over the country and eventually the world.
Why hide? I’ve proven to myself that I can take a fury.”
He forced me to take his hand. In twenty minutes we found
a bike trail that was concealed and led to the south end of Norwalk,
near to where my tree house was. I tried not to look at him. Each
glance was like a knife through me. He wanted to get as far away
from Hell’s Gate as he could. I may be stupid, but I wanted to stay
and fight anything that came my way. I couldn’t leave him, but I
had to.
I sat back on my heels and stared forward. The sun was
down and the clouds were as thick as ever. Darkness. It was like
being hollowed out. Or that might have been the loneliness.
Shivering, I found my blanket and wrapped it around my body. It
didn’t help. Nothing would but Tyran’s cold hands.
I clicked on my radio. Static. It had been years since I heard
a transmission. Some came in from survivors begging for help.
They lasted days before silence again. I decided to curl up with my
blood stained ax and rest, if it was possible.
Footprints. Smeared imprints left behind by someone
dragging their feet. The stiffs. I followed the trail to the bar by the
railroad tracks. Strange. Zombies usually didn’t scuffle like these
were. Ax in hand, I threw open the door.
Inside were candles flickering, lighting the darkness. In an
aisle fashion, they led to the counter where a zombie hung from the
T.V. mounted on the wall. The room smelled of melon spray. I
inhaled, completely puzzled and mesmerized by my surroundings.
My hair was being swept off my shoulder. Fingers undid
the buttons of my coat and unraveled my scarf. I didn’t dare turn. It
had to be a dream.
His voice was barely audible, but I knew who it was. Or,
more importantly, who it wasn’t. I turned around and found a man
with long blonde hair tied in a ponytail. He was wearing a red
trench coat. As he smiled I saw fangs.
Trying to pull my pistol from its holster, the vampire
grabbed me and threw me on the bar counter. The force of the
blow caused air to escape me. My head throbbed. He rubbed his
nose against my cheek, smooth yet rough, caressing me. I slammed
my head into his, causing him to fall backwards. As I ran for the
door, he took hold of my hair and snapped me back.
I collided with a table and tumbled over, cutting my bare
arm. He laughed then jumped in my lap. His tongue lapped at the
blood trickling from the wound. I kicked him in the chest but he
merely smiled at me.
“Oh, we will get to that. I haven’t seen a hum
an in months.
I’ve had to live on the blood of zombies. Do you know what that
does to a man?”
His smiled scared the shit out of me. “Okay, if you want.”
He turned me on my back, pinning me to the floor. I started
to scream. Even if the stiffs heard me they would at least interrupt
him. Lifting up the back of my tank, he tongue trailed the line on
my spine.
His weight was lifted from me and I heard a grunt and the
sound of metal on bone. He took care of the zombie. Crawling to
my knees I felt a thick wool drape over my shoulder. Gazing up, I
saw Tyran offering me my jacket.
I peered down at the headless vampire lying a few feet
from me. His head was sitting under the zombie’s own, which his
body was slumped over the counter.
“Anyti
me. Just like helping the lady.”
“I find it kind of fun hunting the creatures of the night.
Much better than redecorating our home.” I put my coat on as
shivers ran over me. It was a mild December, but still chilly. Tyran
grabbed my shoulders and looked into my eyes.
He scooped me up in his arms and carried me out the door
and in the direction of my home. Once we arrived, he laid me on
my futon and began undressing me. Even though I was naked, I
wasn’t cold. The stare Tyran was showing was enough to heat
anyone. He dropped his pants and I could see the cold didn’t affect
him.
Tyran nuzzled his face into my neck. I could feel his fangs
glide into my skin. Digging my nails into his shoulders, I bit my lip
to keep a moan from escaping. He pulled me closer as he drank
from me.
When he finished and I was weak, he brushed a hair from
my forehead and said, “I can’t stand to watch you go up against
those monsters.”
His hands ran up my legs and to my thighs. As he reached
my bottom I felt the muscles in his body tense. I kissed his neck as
he sank deep into me.
He lay still for a moment just staring into my eyes. Tyran
took one of my hands in his and checked my finger. The ruby was
still there. He kissed the finger. I was about to speak when his hips
dove deep inside me. My nails dug into his back, teeth pressed to
his shoulder.
Tyran pulled me into his arms as his hips teased my body.
He murmured, “You need to stop risking yourself. I never want to
be without you.”
I didn’t want that either.
Each dream seemed to center
around him. Whenever I saw red I thought of his eyes. Once I cut
myself and fantasied about him kissing the blood. No, I couldn’t be
without him.
Tyran pulled me onto his lap. My hips moved as I kissed
him deep. As I rocked over him, his hand reached between us and
found my clit. Sure, I had masturbated while Tyran was gone, but
his digits seemed to have such a skill. I chalked it up to centuries
of practice. My head was thrown back as ecstasy washed over me.
I clasped on top on him, my body quivering. He grunted in my ear
and I felt his body shake. As the sweat began to dry I gazed into
his fire red eyes. Wild. Handsome. Sexy. He was perfect.
Chapter One: Drebi
n’s Mission
A soul—something humans held onto it like it had
worth. It was my job to take that wealth, and I did so with a
smile.
Blood dripped from her wrist in little plunks of
crimson drops. Her life was fading away. I pulled a knife
from my pocket and gently scored the blade across my
forearm. I couldn’t believe I’d taken over four hundred
lives. Tonight was just the end of another day at work.
I looked down at the red puddle growing beneath her.
Humans always left behind a mess. Just the sight of her
disgusting fluids oozing made the fibers of my being
thankful I never had a soul.
I sighed. “Bethany, we’ve talked about this.
Look at
yourself; I’ve never seen a girl as fat as you. Cottage cheese
has less curd.”
“My dear, you’ve been saying that for months and yet
you grow larger every day. And don’t get me started on the
waste of oxygen you are at work; the middle cubicle
everyone avoids. Last week, while you were sick, they had
a party. The alcohol flowed, and the laughter spread
throughout the building. Life was better without you.”
Her blood-soaked palms covered her face, muffling the
sobs. I picked up her sweater and tossed it at her. Bethany
looked at me, confused.
“Wipe your nose. You look disgusting with snot
dripping all over.” I peered down at the blood that gushed
from her wrist; it was almost time.
A single tear rolled down her cheek. Her finger
pressed against the droplet. As she glanced at the tear, her
body started to sway. She was dying.
Four-twentyone’s soul was mine. Lucifer, my Savior,
would be pleased at my progress. Snapping my fingers, my
notebook landed in my hands. I wiped the blood from the
floor and scratched off Bethany’s name.