AND ROLL of the ship made it nearly impossible for Pedro Ramirez to see what was happening onshore, but the vampire captain was not to be deterred. Nothing would keep him from savoring Damien’s reaction to his special gift.
Going aloft on the rigging to the highest point on the schooner’s mast, Pedro trained the spyglass on the couple, watching the tender reunion. One which would be short-lived, if his plans were successful.
Plus, if Pedro succeeded, Angelina would be his for all eternity. A rare gift for him to savor, time and time again.
Even now, the softness of her skin was vivid on his lips. The taste of her blood lingered on his tongue as he recalled feeding from her as she lay unconscious. Her blood had filled the emptiness inside of him with life. How much sweeter it would be when she was his, as his Master had promised. Only then could he spend an eternity sipping from her whenever he wanted.
Only then could he finally say that the last shreds of decency within Damien’s soul had been lost. That the goodness that challenged Pedro each time they met and which so far had not been driven from Damien had finally been vanquished.
This time Pedro would claim Damien’s eternal soul and in so doing, own Damien’s true love Angelina, as well.
It had been a long time in coming, but Satan, who understood best the demonic power of anger, wanted his due. Pedro would be the instrument of that payment.
When Damien lifted Angelina into his arms and disappeared from sight in a blast of vampire speed, Pedro likewise retreated down the rigging to the warmth of his captain’s chambers to savor a spot of fine Cuban rum like that he had off-loaded the day before. Several more kegs would be delivered tonight and by Christmas Eve his ship would be docked in the Manasquan Inlet. While his crew enjoyed the spoils of their work, Pedro would go to Damien and Angelina just as he had during their other two meetings. Satan had led Pedro to Damien because Satan found Damien’s pain and anger powerful and wanted to make the hell-raiser one of his own minions. But so far that goal had proved elusive.
This time Pedro had something he knew Damien would kill to safeguard: Angelina’s immortal soul.
Pedro had no doubt that the threat to Damien’s beloved would goad the vampire into that final violent act. Satan had been right. Damien was filled with delightful anger. Pedro had come so close before only to have sanity, or maybe that damn meddler Angelina, prevent Damien from taking a life and sealing his eternal Fate.
But if all went as planned on this Christmas Eve night, Damien would lose his immortal soul by killing Pedro.
Not that Pedro could ever really die, he thought, entering his chambers and pouring himself a glass of rum. Not only was he a vampire, but he was also one of the Fallen Angels. Only his Master, Satan himself, or one of those blasted Goody Two-shoes Archangels could end Pedro’s existence.
If Pedro could force Damien to take a life, Satan would reward Pedro with even greater powers. Plus the bonus of everlasting life with Angelina, of course.
At the thought of having her, Pedro grew hard. Reaching down, he released himself from the stricture of his pants and stroked. Imagined burying himself in her warm depths. Drinking of her blood, so full of light and life.
Only an Angel’s blood could be so rare and satisfying.
By Christmas morning, Pedro would have Angelina as his own, he vowed. He couldn’t imagine a better present to receive.
ANGELINA WAVERED BETWEEN BOUTS of consciousness as Damien gently bathed her and tended to the wounds along her back. Two deep gashes, each nearly six inches long and located high up along her shoulder blades, marred the otherwise smooth perfection of her creamy skin. Odd wounds, made by the slice of a knife or a clean swift slash of a sword, as if cutting off an appendage. The latter made no sense to him considering the position of the injuries.
When he finished cleansing the angry furrows, Damien applied antiseptic and covered the yawning slashes with gauze. He bound the injuries with soft strips of fabric he had torn from an old flannel work shirt.
Cautiously, he rolled Angelina onto her back, but not gently enough. She moaned at the pressure and opened her eyes, gazed up him with a slightly feverish look that made her emerald eyes glitter.
“I’m sorry. I’ll