Life's Blood

Hi! This is my very first work, I hope you all enjoy!

*****

The night sky burned.

Great pillars of fire and smoke billowed upward, turning the black expanse into a treacherous murk. Siege weapons lay shattered and broken as they burned. The walls of the vampire queen's fortress were blackened with scorch marks, yet Lord Doyle's armies had made not a single wall cave. It was almost as if some dark and foul magic had been cast over the castle. Doyle would not have put it past the loathsome creature.

Soldiers cried out in the battle. Large, misshapen shadows rippled through the rising smoke. At the earliest opportunity, those evil beasts would plunge from the sky to attack Doyle's men.

Blood, entrails, and bodies made the earth a difficult surface to war upon.

Doyle came upon a vampire feeding on one of his soldiers. The creature raised its head and bared its jagged white teeth. Its head toppled and rolled away a sword-swing later.

Only one hundred or so men were alive. One hundred of his one thousand Doyle had marched on the fortress with. The last thing he wanted to do was call a retreat. But it was the only choice he had.

As he snatched up a battle horn from a fallen soldier, he heard the sound of approaching footsteps.

Doyle blew three short blasts on the horn before claws dug into his sides and he was heaved skyward. The horn slipped from his bloodied hands.

The talons of the vampire's preferred mount pierced through his armor. The cockatrice's dark scales reflected the fires below like dragonstone.

It's scraping shriek echoed over the distant cries and screams of the humans below. Those huge black wings possessed a thin membrane stretched over long, gnarled fingers. Through that membrane, Doyle could just spot the dim gleaming points of stars.

The cockatrice descended rapidly, its wings beating like the billows of a furnace. With an awful metallic screech, its claws touched the top of the castle wall.

Doyle was released from its grip. He felt blood trickle down his sides. Ignoring it, he drew his sword and struck at the cockatrice. If he was quick enough, he could take its head and then the vampire's on its back.

But the cockatrice was well trained. It's beak-like maw opened wide and clamped down on Doyle's sword as it passed its face. Even blinded by the metal eye-hoods, its aim was true. Doyle's sword bent nearly in half before the beast dropped it.

The vampire dismounted and whistled sharply.

The doors that were set in the towers of the wall burst wide. Vampires in slick black armor marched out and quickly surrounded Doyle.

He knew what would become of him if the vampires lead him within the castle.

The dagger in his boot was in his hand a moment later. The blade nicked his throat before it was wrenched away.

Cold hands encircled his arms and he was marched through those doors.

Down, down, they carried him. Doyle managed to free a hand occasionally, and satisfied himself by connecting blows with a vampire's eye or jaw, throat or mouth. By the time they entered the great hall, Doyle's knuckles were raw and bloody from scraping over fangs and catching on helmets.

He was carried through the empty throne room and behind the dais. The door they passed through was small, the stairs they now climbed were treacherously steep.

Doyle succeeded in knocking one of his captors down those stairs. The clangs of metal striking stone echoed.

A set of doors was thrown open and the light from a dozen sconces burned his eyes.

His body collided with the flagstone floor. A pair of pale, dainty feet stood mere inches from his gaze.

"The Lord Doyle, as asked, your majesty." One of the vampires said.

The vampire queen. Doyle's body tensed. This was his chance. He could end this gods-forsaken war right here, right now.

"Be on your way, Xerxes. Do what you will with the remaining human soldiers." Her voice was a honeyed murmur that toyed with his senses. Those feet took one step forward.

There was the sound of metal on metal. "Yes, your majesty." The doors were closed.

Doyle curled in on himself to reach his other hidden blade.

The pale feet padded closer. Red skirts with the transparency of dragonfly wings ghosted around her ankles and trailed after her steps.

Doyle sprang to his feet and had his hand wrapped round her slim neck a moment later. The silvery blade drew a line of dark scarlet. The blood beaded and coated the knife.

Doyle's hand squeezed tightly around the delicate column of the vampire queen's throat. Her skin was flawless and near as pale as the moon. Her lips were as red as her blood and sinfully full. Eyes as black as night captured his gaze.

Her hair was a beautiful curtain of pale blonde, so light it was almost white. With her dark lips and eyes, it made her seem like some exotic beauty.

Doyle's heart thudded in his chest as the queen smiled despite his strangling hands.

Then, everything was a blur.

His knife was knocked from his fingers and his helmet was wrenched off. Something warm and soft settled over his groin.

When his eyes focused, Doyle saw the vampire perched over him. Her lower half was pressed tightly against his. He could feel the heat of her through the thin gown she wore.

A gown that was so thin, he could plainly see her body beneath it.

He swallowed before shaking his head sharply. He was here to kill her! To end this war! Countless human lives depended upon this!

Doyle struggled against her small hands. His groin rubbed ceaselessly against her femininity. A breathless gasp left her lips as she bent her head down close to his.

"Oh, my Lord Doyle. I've heard so much about your campaigns." One of her slender hands encircled his throat as his had hers. He gasped for air. His breastplate, mail, and hauberk were stripped away. His vision blackened at the edges before her hand loosened slightly.

Doyle choked in precious air.

"I heard that you were nearly as ruthless and bloodthirsty as a vampire." Her fingers tightened and his shirt was ripped away, his boots yanked off after his leg armor.

He gasped in air again.

The vampire queen's eyes glittered in the light of the sconces. Her lips parted around eerily pointed teeth as she smiled. "I must say, you did put up quite the fight." She caressed her throat, the bruises were already fading. "I'm tempted to let you go so that we may spar."

Her hips ground down on his groin. "The very idea excites me so, Doyle."

"I'll kill you," He managed to spit the words from between clenched teeth.

Her laugh was just as drugging as her voice. That long flaxen hair tickled his face as she leaned forward. Her breasts swayed beneath her gown. "I'd like to see you attempt to, my Lord."

Suddenly, her hands were gone.

Doyle scrambled to his feet. Something hot and wet wound up his side, over the gashes the cockatrice's talons had left. He spun, fist flying through the air.

The queen licked her reddened lips. "Your blood is exquisite. I do believe I chose well when I demanded that you be brought to me instead of drained on the field."

Doyle launched himself at her. His fist connected with her ribs. She gave a surprised mewl before ducking under his arm again.

"Very good, my lord." Her tongue touched the wounds on his other side. But Doyle was faster this time.

The queen's head knocked against the stone wall with a loud sound. Her lips parted around a laugh. "Oh, yes. I do believe I'll have fun with you, my lord."

It was all the warning he had before his back slammed into the mahogany headboard of the massive bed in the center of her chambers.

She straddled his hips again and lowered her hips until he felt the heat of her most secret parts again.

"Oh, my, Doyle. Fighting excites you, too, hmm?" Her delight was palpable as she rubbed herself against his rapidly hardening shaft.

Doyle clenched his teeth hard and attempted to strike her again.

She caught his wrist easily and tsked at him. Her eyes caught the light of the flames. "Oh, Doyle, I thought we were going to get to play before I continued?" Mock hurt radiated from her voice.

Doyle bucked underneath her weight. It only served to arouse him even more. Sweat beaded on his brow as the queen caged his wrists in one hand and pressed them above his head.

Her head canted to the side and more of her hair tickled over his bare chest. "Oh, my lord, you seem to be liking all this very much." Her hips swiveled over his and he fought the urge to close his eyes.

"What are you going to do, vampire? Kill me?" His voice was a rough whisper.

She laughed again. "No, foolish man. I'm going to turn you."

Doyle's blood ran cold as she stopped her gentle riding of his hips.

She leaned even closer. Her breath gusted over his face as her eyes trapped his. "And my name is Nila. It's the one you'll be yelling quite a bit tonight."

"I'll die before you turn me."

Nila laughed again and pressed her lips against his. They were soft as silk and on instinct, he opened his mouth to her. Her tongue swept in, hot and sinful.

Surely there was some drug in his blood or in her breath. That was the only explanation for the unnatural feelings that flooded Doyle's body.

Her mouth left his and her hot tongue traced a path down his throat.

Searing pain lanced his throat. Nila's fangs buried deep in his vein.

He fought desperately. It mattered naught. Doyle felt his life leaving his with every draw she took on his vein.

Her gyrations never ceased and she began moaning softly as she took his life.

Doyle's vision dimmed and his limbs went limp.

Nila released her bite and reared up above him. His blood stained her lips and chin, ran down her neck. She ripped the front of her gown wide.

Her breasts were large and capped with pearled nipples that were a tantalizing shade of pink.

Nila raked a claw over one of her bared breasts and knelt over him.

Her blood dripped onto his lips. Her bloodied nipple brushed against his tongue as he parted his mouth to catch the life-saving droplets.

At the first taste of her blood, something dark and ugly in him reared its head. With a sinuous uncoiling, it asserted itself in his mind and caused his vision to blacken.

Doyle's body burned as though a fire of the hottest kind had replaced his blood. With one last suck on her nipple, he released her breast from his mouth and craned his head back. An agonized shout ripped from his throat as the pain grew.

"Yes, yes. That's it." Nila kissed down his throat and released his wrists. Dimly, Doyle felt her hands pulling his trews off and away.

Something cooler than the fire in his veins teased the head of his cock. The contradicting sensations drove him near wild out of his mind.

It could have been minutes or hours or even days before the awful searing pain eased.

Doyle's conscious returned.

His body now burned for a different reason.

He raised himself onto his elbows and glanced down at himself.

Nila knelt between his spread knees, one hand wrapped round the base of his swollen shaft, the other deftly rolling his balls. Her lips and tongue teased the head of his cock.

As if sensing his gaze on her, those black eyes flicked upward and clashed with his. Her red mouth descended and he felt his cock hit the very back of her throat.

The sight and feel set him off.

His broad hand tangled in that flaxen hair and he bucked his hips wildly as he shot his come into her mouth. "Nila!" Her name left his lips on a raspy shout.

She withdrew and lapped at his cock, cleaning up the remainders of his pleasure. When she appeared satisfied, she rose, straddling his hips.

Her hands skimmed up his stomach and ran over his flat nipples. Her lips hovered above his.

"Say my name again, Doyle." His name on her lips was like a spur. Pleasure and compulsion snaked through him.

"Nila."

The temptation of her lips and the blood on them proved too great and he crushed his mouth to hers.

Nila moaned into his mouth.

The sound drove him into a frenzy.

Doyle ripped the gauzy red gown from her body and flipped her beneath him. He broke the kiss to admire her bared body.

She was pale and perfect, her curves full and sinful. Those breasts were still stained with blood and bore his teeth marks. Her sex was gloriously bare of hair.

And the scent of her...Doyle growled low in his throat and sucked her nipple into his mouth.

Nila moaned as he created a suction so strong, her back bowed off of the bed. Her hands tangled in his hair.

Doyle switched his attentions to her other breast and pinched her wetted nipple between his fingers. His other hand wandered down her ribs, belly and hip.

Those folds were already soaking wet. Her arousal was plain to his probing fingers. Her clitoris was swollen and peeked between her lips.

Doyle pushed two fingers into her slick channel as his thumb pressed against her clit.

Hunger warred inside of him. His throat burned for blood, his cock ached to be inside of her, his mind roared for him to pleasure his sire.

Nila's back arched again and her hips followed his fingers' movements.

"Oh, Doyle, yes!" Her head tossed on the pillow and her pale hair stuck to her cheek.

Doyle tightened his teeth around her nipple, piercing it with his fangs.

Nila's mouth opened wide in a round 'o' and a keening moan left her lips. Her sex clamped down on his fingers hungrily as her body rippled through orgasm.

Seeing, hearing, smelling, feeling her pleasure wasn't enough.

Doyle licked her nipple one last time and knelt between her thighs. He spread them wide and set his mouth to her.

"Doyle! Oh, oh, you're so good!" Her claws dug into his scalp as she undulated her hips to his face.

He lapped and sucked, licked and forayed. She tasted more than exquisite. He couldn't get enough. He delved his tongue past her sex and to the tight little pucker of her ass.

She gave a gasping groan when Doyle's tongue slid into her ass. "Oh, Doyle!"

He knew what she wanted. He slicked his fingers with her arousal and ran them over her little ass before easing one digit inside.

Doyle set his mouth back on her sex as he fucked her tight little ass hole. When she was moaning and riding his mouth, he added a second finger in her ass.

With a cry, she came, claws sinking into his scalp and shoving him tight against her sex. Her juices ran out, soaking his face and hand. He withdrew his fingers and seized her hips.

Nila rose up and kissed him passionately, lapping her own pleasure from his lips. She took his cock in her hand and ran it up and down her soaked folds.

Her fangs nicked her lips as her gaze clashed with his. "Doyle, I need you inside me."

"Yes." Doyle's body shuddered as he pressed his cock-head against her opening.

She was so hot and slick.

Nila suddenly rolled her hips, her sex swallowed his cock right up before his eyes. The sight nearly had him coming again.

One of her hands held his head against her throat, the other ran over his back and ass, the claws scoring over his flesh to spur him.

Doyle's hips rocked, then heaved. His cock pistoned in and out of her soaking pussy.

"Mmhmm, Doyle." Nila's voice was a husky moan as she licked and bit his ear. "You're so big. So hard. Ooh, yes. You're so deep inside of me."

Her head lolled as her breasts bounced with the strength of his thrusts.

"Doyle, oh, yes, Doyle." She struck, fangs burying themselves in his chest.

The bite of pain drove him over the edge. His muscles spasmed and his cock exploded, jetting his come inside her sex. His orgasm burned through him like wildfire.

Doyle's fangs sank into Nila's throat. Her blood tasted like the finest aged wine. It had his eyes rolling back.

Her pussy clamped down around his cock as she came hard. Her head fell back as the pleasure overwhelmed her. The sight and feel of her orgasm and the taste of her blood had him coming again.

Doyle bellowed toward the sky, jerking her hips against his as he filled her again.

Spent, he collapsed to his back.

Nila fell over him, breasts meshing with his chest and lips caressing his chin.

"Oh, Doyle. I knew I had chosen you for a reason."

Her tongue and mouth wandered down his belly again.

His shaft pulsed in her hand and he spared it a surprised glance.

Nila smiled, fangs glinting in the firelight.

"Oh, Doyle, it's going to be a long, hard night, my lord."