Hiliad's Special Gift Ch. 43-44

And it killed him. He had argued with Frannie to allow her to feed, but she'd always pull rank. She insisted it would weaken her, therefore, it would make her come around quicker. He never understood the logic of that.

The second night just after Connee woke up and Hiliad came to check up on her, she acted all sweet and innocent, another lame attempt at freedom. He so badly wanted to know he could trust her, and the only way he'd find out is if he did release her. Bad mistake. She bolted from the bed. As fast as she was then, he was one step ahead of her; he would always be able to catch her and tie her back down on the bed.

The third night she put on her sexual charm, which had always worked with him before. She thought he'd go for tying him down and allow her to Domme him, but of course he didn't fall for that. So she did the next best thing. After he finally broke down to free her, she attacked him and threw him on the bed, straddled his waist and ground her crotch against his.

When he couldn't resist her kiss, she slid her body down, slowly unbuttoned his jeans and took his hard penis in her hand. When he smiled wantingly at her, she immediately jumped off the bed and made a beeline for the bedroom door, threw it open and ran directly into Frannie, who had been standing right at the other side of the door anticipating her escape. Kicking and screaming, both Frannie and Hiliad dragged her back to the bed where he tied her back down , gave her a death glare, and left her alone again.

The beginning of the fourth night, however, took a definite turn. Hiliad replaced the cuffs on Connee's ankles and wrists while she remained asleep, kissed her softly on the forehead and walked toward to door.

Just as he reached the door knob, he heard, "Hiliad?" He paused without turning to look at her, dreading to hear what her next little scheme would be to free herself. "You win."

He turned to look at her, his eyebrows furrowed deeply in suspicion, wondering what her next bound-to-fail escape plan was going to be. He wanted to trust her, he really did. But he knew Connee was aware of his weak spots, and he didn't dare give her another opportunity to outsmart him.

"What?" he snapped.

Without looking at him, she said, "I'm done."

Still skeptical, he shook his head and only then looked at her. "Do you really think I'll fall for that? How stupid do you think I am?" He didn't want an answer.

"I want my life back. I want you back. I want us back." Her voice cracked, and it did sound genuine. "It's just because I was afraid for the baby, but not from you, from me."

"I don't understand."

She stared up at the ceiling, her body limp and totally resigned. "I remember when I held him right after he was born, something savage ripped through me. I smelled his blood, felt it, heard it surging through his veins. Then I had a nightmare. He was crying to be fed, and I saw ... I saw myself holding him in my arms and ... I was ... Feeding. Off. Him." Bloody tears fell from the corners of her eyes.

Then he understood why she was so frightened and acting up. He sat down beside her on the bed and put his hand on her shoulder tentatively.

"I couldn't control the ... hunger for him. I didn't want to hold him, couldn't stand to hear him cry. I wanted him to stop crying, not from his hunger, but for mine."

Hiliad fought back tears. He stood, loosened and removed the restraints then sat back down. She did not move. "I do not know how I would have been with him if I wasn't prepared, and without guidance from the queen. She can help you through this. Love, I have held him, fed him, every night since he was born."

"Blood, from you?"

"No. It is milk from a bottle. He's shown no behavior to the queen that he requires blood."

"And ... you didn't have the desire to—"

"Oh, god, no! That little man has brought life back to me, after you, of course. It was the best feeling in the world giving life instead of taking it."

She slowly turned her head to look at him for the first time. "I never told you, but I was married, after my family was taken. I was on a personal journey to make my father proud of me. I had seven children, though none survived to adulthood. I cared for them. I loved them. But they were all gone, like everyone else I loved, and I had to leave. I became nothing but a savage." He ran his hand through his hair. "Yes, things are different now, but he's my ... our miracle. And I wish no harm toward him."

Connee buried her face in his chest and cried for several minutes, her whole body shaking as she held onto him tightly. He held onto her tighter than he'd ever remember doing so. He softly whispered into her ear.

"Hiliad, I love you so much."

"I love you, too, and so does Junior."

"Tell me you did not name him Junior!"

He replied seriously, "Yes, I did." Then he smiled. "Of course I didn't. I don't want him to be anything like me."

She sat up and leaned against him. "Oh, I hope he does grow up to be like you. You're not all that bad," she said with a smirk. The expression on her face changed to that of contemplation. "Um, you know? We could maybe do something with these restraints."

"No. You need a bath before I even touch you," he said playfully.

"Well," she replied, "I could tie you down and—"

"Wait a minute! Aren't I your Master?"

"I can take a shower in ten seconds. You know how fast I am now."

"No, absolutely not."

She leaned forward and kissed him, running her hand slowly up his thigh, knowing that was all she'd need for him to change his mind. When they broke their kiss she said, "I'm okay, love, really." The tips of her fingers brushed against the bulge of his crotch.

"Well, the queen is downstairs with the baby now. You have an hour to do with me as you wish."

Without saying a word they stood, Hiliad quickly removed his jeans and t-shirt and jumped on the bed on his back. Connee looked up and down his body like she was about to eat him then slowly and seductively secured all four restraints. She then stepped back and removed her tattered and filthy nightgown. "Don't go anywhere, slave," she warned as she walked out of the room wearing an evil, manipulating grin on her face.

After closing the door behind her she leaned against the door to think of her next move. Being that she had been in the house for such a long time, she was very familiar with the layout and knew of the secret passages. Listening very intently for voices within the house to determine where everyone was, she heard several noises downstairs in the living room.

Coast was clear.

CHAPTER FORTY-FOUR

She really wanted and needed to feed first, but there was no time for that, regardless of how tired she'd become. She headed for the bathroom first, rinsed off her face without even looking in the mirror, grabbed the full-length cotton robe from the back of the door and went to the bedroom across from her mother's. She quickly went to the clothing curio cabinet, opened the door, pushed the plastic-covered dresses aside and stepped in. She snickered, being that 'The Witch and the Wardrobe' was one of her favorite childhood books.

At the back she slid the thin wooden paneling aside and stepped through it, feeling with her foot the small step before she'd step to the next. It was a spiral staircase with no lighting, but she didn't really need any. She proceeded to take exactly six stairs that led down, then twenty-four flat steps to another four stairs down to the hidden door in the library, which was on the other side of the house.

When she got to the library door, she slowly and quietly slid it open, stepped through a small plain cabinet and opened the door. Listening for voices again, there were none. So she stepped out of the cabinet and headed straight for the opened sliding glass on the opposite side of the room.

She made it four steps before a force hit her in the back, square between her shoulders, which sent her flying against a wall of books. As she crumbled to the floor several books fell on top of her. They settled around her and she looked around in shock, wondering who attacked her.

"It was me that you attacked you," said Frannie, who was then standing over her, her hands on her hips, looking angrier than any mother could be. "Do you honestly think I'm that stupid, Leigh?" she spat maliciously, knowing Connee hated that name.

"Sadly, she thinks I'm the stupid one," Hiliad said as he walked into the room and stood beside Frannie, his arms behind his back.

"How the hell did you know where I was?!"

"Did you forget I can read thoughts? Hiliad warned me you hadn't come back from the bathroom quickly enough. I figured I knew where you were."

Frannie gruffly and carelessly pulled Connee up from the floor and pulled her arms behind her. With gloved hands, Hiliad brought forward a chain of thin silver, placed it around her neck and twisted it in the back. At the instant her flesh started to burn he turned his head to avoid the smell, but it was no use.

"Oh, god!" Connee wailed, reaching up and trying to tear the chain from her neck, which only elicited more screams as the palms of her hands began to sear and smoke.

She tried to struggle and break away from him, but he was stronger. Because he was filled with such anger and disappointment in her, he would have none of her behavior any longer. He threw her against the bookshelf hard, forcing books to shake and a few more fell to the floor.

"I don't give a flying fuck how much pain you are in, Ms. Byers," he spat, his voice filled with rage.

"Hiliad, enough," Frannie warned. "Come with me."

"No, no! I am—oh, shit! Hiliad, don't let her do this to me! Please!" Tears rolled down her face, which met with blood that had already been coming from her ears and nose.

"Oh, she's not the one that's doing this to you. You are doing it to yourself."

He promptly took a step back, grabbed her by the waist and once again threw her over his shoulder. At first she struggled further, but by the time they reached the door she had grown too weak to continue. But that didn't stop the string of curse words spurting from her mouth.

Frannie led Hiliad and Connee to the basement level, but in the opposite direction of where the Dr.'s office and exam room were. They turned a few corners then Frannie stopped at a door, pressed in a few numbers on a key lock panel, and the door swung open.

As they walked into the room, Hiliad hesitated. It was a fairly small room, two chairs set in a corner with a side table, and most disturbingly, in the center of a room was a cage. It was bigger than the one he was held captive in, but no less confining, as the bars were silver. There was nothing inside the cage at all, only a cold, concrete floor. His attention was diverted back to the present when a moan came from behind him, and he remembered who he had draped over his shoulder.

"Place her inside, please, and you can remove the chain," Frannie told him.

He proceeded to walk into the cage, placed Connee on the floor then stood, looking her over. She never opened her eyes as she balled into the fetal position, whining and groaning in pain, her flesh sizzled and smoked. Quickly he removed the chain and threw it to the side.

"Hiliad, leave her be to calm down," Frannie told him.

He looked at her incredulously, surprised at the coldness and callousness that her voice portrayed. "Majesty, we can't—"

"I'd move your foot if I were you," Frannie warned.

"What?" He looked down at Connee, who was about to grab onto his ankle, her mouth open, her fangs an inch away from his foot.

Without thinking what he was doing, Hiliad threw his leg out hard and fast, the toes of his foot hitting her directly under her chin, sending her head back, her body following. She flew back three feet until the metal bars stopped her progress.

More screams erupted from Connee as untouched skin seared from the new burning flesh. She pushed herself forward, only to land far enough away that she was no longer touching the bars.

Hiliad was about to reach down for her, only wanting to comfort her and take away her pain, but Frannie rushed into the cage, grabbed him by his shoulders and dragged him out, with him protesting the entire way. The cage's silver door slammed shut and automatically locked.

"Majesty! She's hurt!"

"Hiliad, let's leave her for now. We'll come back. She needs time alone."

"With all due respect, no."

The smallest curl of a smile rose on Frannie's lips, and she shook her head. "Mr. Fildri, you are just as stubborn as my daughter. Please, you have to trust me."

"Hiliad, Master, please help me," Connee whined, so softly he wasn't sure if she'd actually spoken.

But he had heard her. He turned to look at her, and his shoulders slumped when he saw her body crumbled in a ball like some helpless, injured animal. In a way she was, and so was he. He died inside, wishing for an instant that he could end it all, meet his final and true death, just leave his heart behind. But Connee, his Connee, had given him his heart back. He would fight to keep it.

"I am, Connee. I am," he replied as he turned and raced out of the room. Then he was gone.

Connee's body shook from his words. "Mom,

I'm sorry. Please, I'll behave. I'm sorry," she cried.

"Oh, baby. I'm sorry, too," Frannie answered.

She then walked out of the room, locking the door behind her. She didn't even look in the large peephole for one last look at her daughter. She simply turned and walked away.

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Upstairs in the living room Hiliad was holding Fredrick, feeding him from a bottle. He stared down at his little man, or vampire, or Bintaur, whatever he'd be. It didn't matter to Hiliad, not one damned bit. Only a few times in his life had something grounded him enough to make him feel content, happy, grateful. Yet at that moment it affected him more potently than anything else, other than having Connee in his life.

He was brought out of his thoughts when a

soft cloth brushed down his cheek. He didn't feel embarrassed or ashamed that she had wiped away a tear. He just felt for Connee.

"You have a hungry one there," Frannie said quietly so as not to wake the baby, who had just closed his eyes but was still softly suckling.

"Did you notice—" Hiliad started to say a little too loud, the baby had jerked in his arm. "Did you see her ears in the library?" he asked more quietly.

"Yes. She hasn't eaten in days. Hey, the baby's almost done. Let me burp him and you go see her. Ask Linda for a bag of O Positive and take it to her."

Within seconds the baby was in Frannie's arms and Hiliad raced out of the room to the basement, first to the doctor's office then to the door that Connee was in. He had forgotten it was locked electronically, and he needed the combo to get in.

"1023," he heard Frannie tell him from upstairs, apparently she could hear him from upstairs.

He punched the numbers into the box then rushed in, stopping just short of being burned from the silver bars. He was not surprised at all that she hadn't even moved since they'd left only an hour earlier.

"Connee, love, here. Take this." He loosened the cap a little bit to make it easier for her to get the blood. He aimed between the dangerous bars and threw the bag of blood a few inches from her hand. "Eat." She didn't reply. "Damnit! Eat!"

She still didn't say anything. Instead she slowly reached out for the bag, pulled her arm back and threw it right back toward him. It hit a bar, but the lid was loose and it popped off, spattering him all over with blood.

"Fuck!" he cursed then stepped back, but by then it was too late. "Is this the way you want it?! Fine! Starve for all I care!"

He slammed the door shut behind him and promptly punched a hole in the wall. He cared.

He went upstairs, not wanting to hear a word from the queen. "You'll need to hire someone to replace the hole I just put in the wall," he said nonchalantly as he walked in then out of the room. "I'm taking a shower."

An hour later Hiliad made another attempt, hoping that time Connee would stop being such a brat and eat. He entered the room and shook his head because she hadn't moved. He figured as much. Without saying a word, he loosened the cap and threw it within her reach. She didn't touch it.

He could do nothing to make her eat, so he turned to leave. "Hiliad," a soft whisper reached his ears.

"What?!" He didn't turn around.

"My ears ... nose ... bleeding."

"What do you want me to do about it?"

"Am I dying?"

"Yes," he replied then left her alone again.

He walked past Frannie at the top of the stairs. he told her, "There's another hole to repair."

"Didn't you think one hole was enough, Sheriff?!" she retorted, but her voice was sympathetic. "Did she eat?"

"No."

Frannie didn't know if he answered her first question or her second.

Hiliad took to the sky trying to clear his mind, which didn't help. Only half an hour had gone by before he went back to Connee. Before entering the room he looked through the peep hole. "I'll be damned."

She was in the middle of the cage kneeling, the blood bag empty at her feet, her hands were palms up and placed over her thighs, her head down. He was taken aback and appalled at how bad she looked. Her face was completely covered in blood, from under her eyes to the sides of her face, even under her nose and chin. A coating of blood sheened her skin from her collarbone all the way underneath the robe.

He rushed to get another bag of blood and returned, put on protective gloves to open the silver door and knelt beside her. Regardless of her submissiveness, he told her softly, "Eat, please, you've got to eat."

He removed the lid's cap and brought it to her mouth. She reached for the bag and brought the lip of it to her mouth; he never let go of the bag. She drank it down as if she'd been dying of thirst in the desert, which basically she had been. Yet she remained composed enough not to spill a drop, or lose control as she had before.

"That's it. Good girl." When it was completely empty, he pulled it away, while she returned to her pose. "Will you eat more?" She simply nodded.

Hiliad was well of aware of her manipulation, trickery and failed attempts at escape. By her giving him the only thing she had left, maybe she was genuinely ready to prove herself. He wanted to believe her, he really did. But he had to give her a chance, didn't he?

Test one: "You'll stay? You won't move?" She shook her head. "Will I have to lock the cage door?" Again she shook her head.

With lightning speed he went to the refrigerator where the blood was kept and grabbed a bag. Stepping out of the office he stood, counted to a hundred as slowly as he could, which was really only about fifteen seconds, then hurried back to her, stopping in the threshold of the cage. "I'll be damned, again." She was still in the pose.

Passed test one.

"Are you done?" She nodded. "If I let you out you'll behave?" She nodded. "You'll listen to your mother?" She nodded.

Test two: With a minuscule amount of skepticism that held him back, he said, "Come." She remained still.

Failed test two.

"That's what I thought."

"nt ..."

"What did you say?"

" ... can't ... we ... weak."

A gurgle erupted from the back of his throat, although he thought it might have been his heart. He went to her, sat beside her, pulled her into his lap, bit into his wrist and placed it over her mouth. Instantly she grabbed his wrist, latched onto the puncture spot and drank from him. He gave her all that he could to give her life, just as she had given him life.

Not even a minute went by before he could feel the wound begin to close up, so he pulled it away. She whined from the back of her throat while he opened it again and returned his wrist to her mouth. As she fed, he began to feel strength return to her body, as she had enough she began to straighten her legs.