Chapter 11: Bloody Incest

Father Hyrum Augustine, unknowing pawn of the demon Jezebel, faced the vampiress, Rosa Reyes, in her realty office, the sunlight streaming through the window onto her golden-brown skin. It did not consume the foul creature. The Latina woman's face transformed as the priest's snarl of "Vampiress" echoed through the room. Fangs flashed between her ruby lips.

Damien turned her and she was gifted daywalking. Every vampire had a gift from telekinesis to mesmerizing gaze. Some, like Rosa, were protected from the purity of the sun, able to walk in what should burn her foul body to a crisp.

The priest's cock throbbed harder as Rosa moved. She dressed in a sleek, tight miniskirt and low-cut blouse, showing off the beauty of her body to gain an edge in negotiations. The priest admired her beauty, eager to own her body like he yearned to own the vampiress Lynette's nubile form. Lusts defined the Father, the whip the demon possessing him used to drive the priest to her tasks.

As time slowed, fantasies flashed through the priest's body, whispered by Jezebel. He pictured Rosa pinned to the table, her body naked, golden-brown, heaving in the sunlight as he plowed his cock into her sinful hole. The table creaked as he ravaged her.

All women are whores, and vampiresses especially. They are sin animating flesh. They inspire such depravity in men.

The priest already yearned to tame Abigail, and now he lusted for Rosa. He wanted his own pets vampiresses to join him, to be yoked to his communion the way he had chained the three woman who surged around him. Blonde and youthful Joy drew a silver machete while Samantha, her glasses slipping down her alabaster face, produced a wooden stake she had hidden beneath her clothing. The white oak's point lunged at Rosa.

"Capture her," breathed Father Augustine as his holy warriors rushed forward.

Donna Lawson—the married MILF he had savored stealing from her husband—snapped her hand out at the lunging Rosa. Shock burst across the vampiress's face. She had known blood in the early hours of the morning when she helped Damien slaughter at the mansion. She discovered the ease of killing humans with her undead speed and strength She expected humans to be slow.

My whores have been blessed by my holy power.

Yes, they have, the feminine voice whispered. To the priest, Jezebel's purr belonged to the Holy Ghost and proved the priest's righteous belief in his purpose.

Flesh smacked flesh. The vampiress hissed in pain, her clawing hand recoiling before she could reach Father Augustine's throat. The priest folded his arms, his cock tenting the front of his cassock as he admired his women unleashed.

Joy's blonde hair flowed behind her as she swung with the silver-plated machete. Only items of purity—salt, white oak, sunlight, holy water, silver—could harm the undead. Rosa's nostril flared. Her dark eyes burned as she twisted from Joy's weapon. The machete sang through the air, a flash of silvery violence. Blood spurted.

Rosa grasped her leg. Smoke curled from the wound.

"Do not mar her beauty too much," the priest smiled. "Disable and pin her so I may claim her."

"Yes, Father," breathed Donna, her large breasts heaving beneath her blouse as the MILF and Samantha charged in.

"Claim me?" laughed Rosa.

Her uninjured leg lashed out. Donna took the blow in the stomach. The force threw the woman back into a filing cabinet. Metal groaned as the MILF bounced off. She left a creased dent, the gray-green paint flexing off.

Donna rose, shacking off the injury.

"Thank you lord for my holy warriors," prayed the priest. Thank you for making my whores strong.

Samantha screeched as she stabbed the stake at Rosa's stomach, forcing the vampiress to leap back. She landed on her bad leg and howled in pain. Pure rage burned in the vampiress's face as she struggled to stay upright.

Joy leaped over the woman's desk, knocking over a computer monitor as she landed beside the vampire. She swung hard with the machete. Rosa sucked in her stomach as she danced back. Fabric sliced. Smoke curled. A thin, long slice weeped tainted blood down Rosa's stomach.

"I will rip you all to shreds," screeched the vampiress. She seized the heavy printer sitting on a small table in the corner and hurtled it at Joy.

The blonde knocked it from the air and advanced on the vampiress, Samantha rushing in alongside her. They had the vampiress pinned in the corner. It was almost over. Father Augustine reached down and rubbed at his cock.

"The hussy has unleashed her sin upon me," groaned the priest.

"Then she'll have to satiate you, Father," Samantha snarled. The brunette stabbed with the stake as Joy sliced her machete.

Rosa could only dodge one. The machete swiped at her neck. The priest tensed, fearing his whore had lost control and disobeyed him. But Joy's attack forced the vampiress to dodge into Samantha's path.

The wooden stake slammed into Rosa's stomach.

Agony screamed from the vampiress's mouth. She stumbled to the right. White oak planted into a vampire's torso was agony. It disabled them. Hunters carried bolts of white oak to shoot into vampire's chest so they could paralyze and then kill their foe.

"Yes," Father Augustine breathed.

"No," snarled Rosa as her body convulsed.

The vampiress found the strength to throw herself backwards before she lost all motor control. She crashed through the glass window. The shards spun about her, cutting her flesh. The sunlight illuminated her blood droplets. They glowed with inner fire.

And then she was gone, plunging several stories to the street below.

A snarl of rage burst from the priest's lips. He rushed to the window and peered down at the cement below. Rosa landed hard, her body convulsing on the sidewalk. It would take more than that to kill a vampire. Pedestrians already crowded around her, speaking on her cell phones.

Calling the authorities.

No time. Damien is the target. Forget the bitch, hissed the feminine voice.

"We need to leave," Father Augustine spat. "Right now!"

"Yes, Father," Samantha said. "I ... I'm sorry, Father. I tried to capture her."

The priest didn't answer. Bile burned the back of his throat. There is still Abigail, whispered the feminine voice. Once you kill Damien, the widowed vampiress will need the comfort of her priest.

Father Augustine smiled. He had failed to kill or dominate Rosa, but he had confirmation on Damien's lair. The loft above Club Risqué. How else had Rosa, the property's realty agent, been turned into a vampiress?

Remember, you have a way to escape your corruption. Kill Damien once Faust's blood has cooled.

Gideon's voice echoed through her mind. Aurora the corrupted angel spun around, her crimson wings flapping wide. She gripped her sword then let it vanish. She would never turn on Damien. He had unshackled her from Heaven's morality. Together, they would kill Faust and stop Jezebel's plan.

The demon would pay.

And then she would serve her vampire and combat darkness. No rules or petty morality would stop them. They would fight darkness with darkness. They would prowl the night and keep mankind safe from the predators—shepherds guarding the flock.

And like any shepherd, they would earn the right to take the choicest morsels and feast.

"Aurora, is everything all right?" a soft voice asked.

The angel turned, her naked tits heaving, and faced Britney. The thrall stretched from the mattress she lay upon. Mary slept beside her. All three vampires—Damien, Abigail, and Mary—slept in the dark loft. The windows were coated with thick, black paint, hiding the foul sun from their flesh.

"It's fine," Aurora said, her wings fluttering.

Seeing Gabriel, her former angelic partner, excited her. The prospect of seducing a pure angel and tasting his seed appealed to Aurora. When Damien feasted on her, she became a different kind of predator, one who feasted on sexual juices.

She had been feasting on Britney's milk when Gabriel interrupted her. Aurora's eyes locked on the blood-smeared tits. Britney's wounds, caused by Mary's sharp teeth, had healed swiftly, but streaks remained on her skin, mixing with the milk beading on her nipples.

Britney yawned. "Okay. I was just falling asleep. I thought I heard a man's voice."

"Just a fool." Aurora walked to Britney as the thrall closed her eyes and fell into sleep again. She needed to regain energy. She had been feasted upon off and on all night by the vampires. Though her human body had been enhanced to replenish her blood and milk swiftly, there were limits.

Aurora shuddered. She needed to feed. Thralls existed to be used. "Sleep, child," Aurora purred as she fell upon the mistress lying on the empty loft's floor. Nearby, Damien, Abigail, and Vicky, another Thrall, slept. "I will give you such sweet dreams."

Aurora's hands slid up Britney's smooth thighs. The young girl, barely eighteen, shuddered as she dreamed. Her hand held Mary's. They were friends before their changes, and now they had an even stronger bond uniting them—serving Damien.

The angel pushed her thighs apart, exposing Britney's shaved pussy. A landing strip of fine, blonde down led to a wet snatch. Aurora's nose twitched as the angel breathed in the musk. An orgasmic sigh issued from her throat.

"Such sweet dreams."

Aurora leaned down to feast on the sleeping girl's snatch. Her tongue flicked along the shaved vulva, gathering up the sexual fluids—cum or pussy dew, Aurora craved both now. Her wings fluttered as her excitement grew.

Aurora savored the flavor. It burst to life on her mouth. She moaned through her lips, her body feasting on the sustenance of Britney's lusts. The girl shifted and let out a soft sigh as she slumbered and dreamed.

I hope they are such—

Metal rattled outside. A van door sliding open. It was in the alley of of the loft. Footsteps stomped. The angel's keen senses alerted her to the clatter of a gun's slide pulled back and released, the flick of safety, then steps pounded up the stairs.

"Wake up!" Aurora shrieked, her wings flapping, carrying her to her feet. Her bloody sword appeared in her hand. "We're under attack."

The door burst open. Sunlight ruined the purity of darkness.

Damien D'Angelo's eyes snapped open the moment Aurora's shout burst from her lips. The vampire's enhanced senses heard the pounding footsteps. Four separate steps but three were light—women. Their excited musk brushing his nose mixed with gun oil, salt, white oak.

Vampire Hunters.

The door burst open as Damien rose. His wife Abigail, who moments before had slept in his arms, leaped to her feet, his hard dick sliding out of her ass. She hissed in a low crouch beside Damien, flinching from the vile sunlight spilling into the loft as three women burst in carrying weapons. Donna Lawson, mother of Britney, was at their lead.

Though Damien was shocked to see his neighbor leading the charge, he did not let it stop his reaction as Donna lowered her shotgun right at Abigail. Damien knew it was loaded with rock salt, a tactic he had used many times as a living hunter.

With a roar, he threw Abigail to the side. His red-haired vampiress tumbled across the floor and came up in a crouch. The shotgun roared. Pain exploded across Damien's side. He felt every grain of salt strike his skin. Smoke wisped from his wounds as thousands of crystals dug into his flesh, pricking agony through his body.

"Bitch!"

His shouted thundered through the hall. His right arm fell limp. So much smoke billowed from it, he couldn't see his flesh from wrist to shoulder. The smoke stung at his eyes as he rushed at the woman. Damien drank in the pain.

His cock thrust hard before him.

Donna racked her shotgun, the red shell ejected smoking. It spun through the air as the next shell slammed into the breech. It was sawed-off. One of Damien's he had left with Father Augustine.

The priest strode into the loft, a dark shadow surrounded by the too bright sunlight.

"You have fallen, Damien," the priest said, his gruff voice stronger, alight with inhuman words. Damien heard something strange in the priest's voice, a woman speaking with the man, a faint, almost ringing tone just at the edge of Damien's hearing. "But I have come to free you from the prison of your flesh so you may find paradise again."

"Amen," Donna hissed.

Damien snagged the barrel of the gun and shoved it to the side. The shotgun went off, spraying salt past his chest. The barrel burned his hand, but Damien could ignored the mundane heat. His flesh healed in an instant.

He ripped the shotgun from her, spun it, and pumped the action.

In a blur almost too fast for the vampire to follow, she produced a silver machete and swung. He blocked it with the shotgun barrel. Donna was fast. Too fast for even a hunter. Damien had numbered among the best of the Knights Venator, and he never possessed the woman's speed.

"What are you?" he demanded as she hacked at him again.

"Something holy," breathed Donna. "Something pure. Chosen by god to kill you and rescue my daughter."

But Damien smelled a different truth on her. She oozed lust. It burned through her. Consumed her and drove her. The lust wasn't holy. It was foul, tainted, corrupted. It made no sense to the vampire as he fell back before her feverish assault.

But it made her blood smell so sweet. He yearned to taste her corruption.

Damien screamed in pain as Abigail D'Angelo came up in crotch after being thrown to the side. She snarled at Donna Lawson, glaring daggers at her neighbor for hurting Damien. She rose and tense, prepared to leap and rip the woman's head off.

Movement attracted the vampiress's attention.

Samantha Murphy raised a crossbow to her shoulder, a white oak quarrel resting on the cradle. The young woman, a member of Abigail's church, fired. The crossbow bolt took Abigail in the collarbone as she tried to dodge. It spun her around. Pain burned down her arm.

You invited me to your wedding next week, bitch, Abigail thought as the pains creamed through her.

The vampiress crashed to the ground. Her left arm paralyzed by the shot. She rolled onto her right side, the quarrel twisting in her flesh. She regained her feet. Samantha, her glasses slipping off her nose, calmly reloaded her crossbow, cranking the mechanism to pull back the cradle and bend the arms. Abigail ripped out the quarrel and threw it at Samantha.

The human reacted in an instant. She raised the crossbow, blocking the powerful throw. The quarrel embedded into the fiberglass body of the weapon.

Abigail didn't stay still. She rushed in after the thrown bolt. Feeling returned to her left arm. Her wound still burned and smoked, but she had removed the white oak's purity didn't, returning control to her limb. She snarled, her fangs growing. Samantha's blood smelled sweet.

Samantha threw her crossbow.

The large weapon hurtled at Abigail. She raised her forearms, letting the weapon bounce off of her. She kept running. She wasn't a weak human to be slowed down that easily. She lowered her arms, ready to grab Samantha, and hissed her hunger.

Samantha drew a handgun from a shoulder harness.

"Bitch," Abigail snarled as she stared down at her own 9mm with an extended magazine holding thirty rounds.

Samantha pulled the trigger. The 9mm had been illegally modified to full auto. A burst of five round spat from the end of the gun as Samantha swept her arm before her. The bullets struck Abigail in the legs. Three of the silver coated bullets passed through the flesh of her thighs, leaving burning wounds behind while a fourth miss.

The fifth struck her knee cap, the silver lodged against the bone.

Abigail's legs folded beneath her. She collapsed before Samantha.

Confusion gripped Abigail. Samantha shouldn't have the skill to be so precise with a 9mm firing at full automatic. The young woman had never held a gun before. She was pro-gun control, believing every Christian should be against any weapon being owned.

So when was she trained?

Behind Samantha, a blonde woman Abigail didn't recognize dodged the streaking blur of Mary. The young vampiress was gifted with super speed. She left only an afterimage behind as she raced up the wall and leaped at the blonde.

Who pulled an ampoule of holy water and flicked it almost casually before her. Mary, streaking down from above, had no chance to avoid it. Her momentum provided all the force to shatter the glass. Holy water spilled about the vampiress, and she crashed to the ground at the blonde's feet, her flesh burning.

Mary's agony screamed through the warehouse.

"What are you?" Abigail hissed through her teeth at Samantha. Her wounds in her legs healed, all except around the bullet lodged against her knee.

"God's warriors sent to fight evil," Samantha said, her eyes burning with lust.

Abigail shoved herself backwards as Samantha aimed again. The vampiress's legs burned. But she wouldn't give up. She would keep fighting and drink the bitch's blood. Another burst of 9mm rounds exploded from Samantha's gun.

They did not hit Abigail.

Vickie fell to the ground before Abigail. The Black thrall clutched her bleeding stomach. The scent of blood thickened in the air. Drops splashed across Abigail's face and breasts. Her tongue licked out, tasting the salty flavor. The thrall's life.

A spike of energy shot through Abigail.

"Kill her, Mistress," panted Vickie, her voice thick with orgasmic pleasure. Pain and rapture were the same to a thrall.

Abigail snarled in answer and gained her feet.

Britney Lawson rushed across the loft. Mary screamed in pain behind her and Abigail lay on the ground, bleeding. But she was Damien's thrall. It was her Master that she ran to the rescue of, her large tits heaving.

Britney couldn't believe her mother thought she needed saving. But Britney would not let her mother harm Damien. It didn't matter that Donna Lawson had birthed Britney and raised her. Nothing would stop Britney from protecting her master.

The young woman let out a shout right before she slammed into her mother's side, a football tackle. Donna gasped and grunted. The two women fell to the ground in a flurry of matching blonde curls. Donna struggled as Britney seized her mother's arm.

"You can't harm him," Britney shouted.

"Oh, honey," groaned Donna as she wrestled with her daughter. "I'm here to save you, sweetie. Then you can serve the priest like I do."

Lust burned in Donna's mouth. Britney was shocked by the wanton, purring moan. It was sexual, taboo groan of pleasure. It unleashed incestuous lust inside of Britney. Her pussy, already wet from the angel's licking while she dozed, unleashed a new flood of pleasure.

"No," Britney gasped, her eyes widening. "No, no. You need to serve Damien. You'll love it. Just let him bite you. Fuck you. Let him make you cum, Mother!"

Donna, to Britney's absolute shock, through her daughter off of her. Britney landed hard on the wooden step. "I'm trying to save you," Donna roared as she gained her feet with far more speed and grace then Britney thought possible. "Don't you understand?"

Damien raised the shotgun, the barrel scored with dents and nicks. Donna cursed and dived to the ground. The shotgun boomed. But her roll was swift. She came up in a crouch and threw her machete at Damien.

"Master," Britney gasped in shock.

The machete took Damien in the thigh. The vampire moved, but not fast enough. How is Mom a better fighter than Master? It's like she's not human.

Damien roared in pain. His cock thrust hard before him as his flesh sizzled. He seized the handle of the machete and ripped it out of his flesh. His blood sizzled on the weapon, boiling away. Damien shuddered.

"What are you?" he demanded, facing Donna.

"Purified by the priest's communion!" Donna's eyes widened with ecstasy as she reached into her back pocket and pulled out a vial of holy water.

"No!" Britney threw herself at her mother.

Donna cursed and turned. She grabbed Britney's hand, twisting it. "Stop fighting, Britney Lawson. You don't know what you're doing. He's evil."

"He's my Master!" Britney screamed the words. They exploded out of her. She believed them with every fiber of her being. "He owns me. You can't hurt him."

Donna struggled and pushed Britney away, turning to face Damien. The vampire surged in, swinging the machete. Donna twisted her body, her feet almost a blur as she backpedaled and dodged around the attacks.

She can't dodge us both.

The thought propelled Britney into motion. She moved around her mother. A sexual surge of lust rushed through her. Blood scented the air. She wasn't a vampire, but she still responded to the aroma of spilled life fading into death. She licked her lips. Milk beaded her nipples. Her mother was so strong. She would make Damien a wonderful vampiress.

Britney lunged at her mom's back. Donna threw a glance and cursed. She tried to dodge both Britney and the machete. But she couldn't do both. She twisted her body out of the way of Damien's blurring swing.

Britney grabbed her mother's waist. She locked her arms tight about her mother, hugging her from behind. She then hooked Donna's foot as the older woman moved. Britney yanked, throwing Donna off balance. The pair crashed to the floor, Britney's hands sliding up, grabbing her mother's breasts. She pinched with her fingernails hard, tearing through her mother's thin shirt and into the flesh of her tits.

Blood welled around her fingers.

"Master," Britney moaned.

Damien loomed over them, his muscular body bleeding as it healed. A wild rage burned in his eyes, teetering on the edge of lust. The vampire's nostrils flared, inhaling Donna's blood. Yes, take her, Master.

Damien fell on the mother squirming in her daughter's embrace. Britney's smiled as Damien seized her and opened his mouth wide, his fangs flashing. A hot thrill ran through the young woman.

Aurora rushed to Mary's aid.

The vampiress screamed on the ground, her flesh burning from the holy water. Mary shuddered and writhed. She would heal, vampires always did, but for the moment she was incapacitated. The blonde girl produced a sharp, silver knife, raising it high to dispatch Mary.