Chapter 15

"So what are you thinking, Dick?" asked Gertie, who was sitting in her vanity chair looking at the two figures sitting on the edge of her bed.

Those two figures were Ken and Jo, both of whom were naked except for a pair of underpants—black BVDs for Ken, maroon bikini cut from Victoria's Secret for Jo. The situation was not intended to be sexy, however, and it wasn't. It felt like what it was: a medical examination.

"It's a little bit of a tough call to make," said Dick, who was fully dressed and had a doctor's bag open on the bedside table. Like many elders, Dick had actually been a practicing physician at one point in his cognate life. It was a fairly common career choice to pursue at some point when one does not have to worry about the ticking of one's life clock. "The increased jaundice in Ken's eyes and the swelling in his right upper quadrant both suggest his liver is on the verge of failure from the cancer. The increased thirst he is displaying is because his blood sugar level is now consistently elevated, which suggests the pancreas is failing as well. I think Jo should probably start the propagation as quickly as possible in order to ensure that Ken remains healthy enough to be a subject of pinnacle feeding, as is required in propagation."

That was what had prompted this examination. It was April 10, just seven days after the trio had arrived in Christchurch from Tasmania. In those seven days, Ken's cancer seemed to have speeded up its assault on his body, almost as if it realized that it needed to take him now or be kicked out for good. The pains in his stomach, which had been intermittent and manageable, became almost constant and sometimes so severe he could barely restrain himself from screaming aloud. He was tired all the time now too, tired and weak. He barely had the energy to drag himself downstairs for his meals. And when he did get down there, his appetite was poor and he had to force himself to eat.

"But has Josephine regained enough reserves?" asked Gertie worriedly. "Is she healthy enough to propagate both of them?"

"She's not one hundred percent," Dick said. "She's still down eight pounds from her normal weight because she still has not replaced all of the proteins and minerals she used up when she healed herself after the plane crash. Under ordinary circumstances, I would not recommend going forward until she is back to nominal weight, but ... well ... under these circumstances ... I think we'd better get started. If we wait until Josephine is at premium health, Ken may be in danger of being too unhealthy to go through the process."

"Does this put Josephine in danger?" Gertie asked firmly.

"It is within the realm of possibility," Dick said. "Remember, during the propagation, she will only feed from Ken and Meghan and she will not utilize all of their blood for her own nutritional purposes, she will convert at least half of it into virus-carrying plasma to give back to them. She will need to draw on her reserves in order to keep herself healthy during this. A typical cognate loses ten pounds during propagation."

"And that's when only one human is being propagated?" Gertie asked.

"That's correct," Dick said. "Josephine is likely to lose twelve to fifteen pounds. That's flirting with the edge of what she has available to her."

"I don't know," Gertie said, shaking her head. "I don't think I like the sound of this. Couldn't we wait just another two or three days? Just to give us a little more of a safety cushion?"

"I have a better idea," Jo said, clearly irritated. "How about we stop talking about Ken and me as if we weren't here and as if you, Mother, are the one who will make the final decision on this?"

"Josephine!" Gertie said, shocked.

"There is no reason to talk to your mother like that!" said Harold, who was sitting next to her.

Meghan, who was sitting on Gertie's other side, kept her mouth shut. She just looked miserable.

"I'm sorry, Mother," Jo said. "You know I don't habitually disrespect you, but this is my decision to make. If there's a chance that Ken will die before the propagation is finished because we waited, then I'm not going to wait."

"But what if you become too weak to finish the process?" Gertie said. "You know as well as I do that once you start the propagation, you have to stick to the schedule and see it through. You can't let up for even a day or their immune systems will learn to kill the propagation virus. If that happens, they will never be able to be propagated. Ken will still die." She glanced at Meghan guiltily. "Both of them will die."

Neither Ken nor Meghan bothered asking for clarification on this point. By now they had been told the consequences of knowing the secret of the cognate but not completing the propagation. They would have to be killed in order to protect the Subterfuge, and they would have to be killed by Jo's hand.

"The risk of not completing the process is not as great as the risk that Ken will not be able to survive if we wait," said Jo. "I want to start as soon as possible—tomorrow at sunset."

Gertie and Harold clearly did not like this. They had said their piece, however, so they offered no further protestations. "All right then," Gertie finally said. "I guess we'd better start planning The Last Supper."

The Last Supper was the cognate term for the last meal a cognate-to-be would take as a human being, which was to say it was the last time in their lives that they would eat food as a primary source of nourishment. According to Dick, cognate use of this particular phrase pre-dated its use in the Christian Gospels by at least twelve hundred years. The Last Supper was served to the humans during the day—at local noon by tradition—and the first bite of the propagation would then take place at sunset. The meal—like those served to condemned prisoners—was traditionally whatever the human or humans in question wanted. The cognate hosts were expected to go to whatever lengths necessary to provide this meal.

Ken and Meghan ended up making it somewhat easy on Jo and her family. They requested nothing fancy, nothing hard to come by in New Zealand during mid-autumn, which was harvest time in the Southern Hemisphere. They requested marinated, barbecued tri-tip beef, baked potatoes with sour cream and chives, a fresh salad with blue cheese dressing, a bottle of good merlot and, for dessert (this turned out to be the hardest item to come by), New York style cheesecake without any sort of topping.

Ken's appetite was particularly bad on this day. Part of it was the fact that the pains in his right upper abdomen had been ripping through him without let-up since he'd awakened that morning. Another part was simple nervousness. The propagation would be starting in a little under six hours. Jo was going to bite into his neck and feed from him. Though part of him was eager for the experience, another part couldn't help but be afraid. She was, after all, going to sink her razor sharp teeth into one of the primary vessels that carried arterial blood from his heart to his brain. No one could possibly voluntarily undertake such a task without feeling at least a little bit of nerves. Still, he forced himself to eat everything on his plate and even had a double-helping of the cheesecake at the end. He knew his human body would not have any nourishment other than Jo's blood from this point on, no matter what.

"I am so full that I'm sick," Meghan said when the plates were at last taken away and the after-dinner port was served.

"I don't think I can even move," Ken agreed. His stomach actually felt bloated and distended, although the pains in his right side had eased up a bit.

Sunset that night was to be at 5:56 PM. Another cognate tradition dictated that, if possible, those being propagated observe the sun sinking below the horizon after the Last Supper. Fortunately Harold and Gertie, like most well-to-do cognate, had deliberately purchased a house with a fairly clear view to the west, where observation of the setting sun was possible much of the year. At 5:40, everyone except the cognate cop—it was Tim today, and he was nibbling on the leftovers from the Last Supper—went upstairs to the balcony outside Harold and Gertie's master suite. The view from here included the distant peaks of the Southern Alps. They sat and watched the glowing orange ball of gas as it sank down and disappeared behind the mountains.

"Behold," said Jo, her voice solemn. "The sun has disappeared from view and will soon set upon this day in this place. From this night forward, you will revere the setting of the sun as you once revered its rise. From this night forward, you will start your journey as a creature of the night. Praise the wisdom and knowledge of Whoever for our existence. Soon you will be one of us."

"Amen," said Harold and Gertie in unison. They were holding hands and both had tears in their eyes.

"Amen," said Ken and Meghan.

Jo simply smiled, her hands caressing their shoulders. "The sun won't actually be below the horizon for another ten minutes. Once it is ... we'll begin."

Jo, Ken and Meghan went into the guest bedroom they had been sharing since arriving. The bed was large and neatly made. The lights were on but dimmed. Jo turned on a radio on the bedside table and soft music began to play. She turned to look at the two of them, a sexy smile on her face. She reached up to her blouse and began to unbutton it, her actions slow and deliberate. Soon she had it open completely. She shrugged it off her shoulders, leaving her standing in a slinky black bra. Despite his sickness and the pain in his side, Ken felt a little stirring down below.

"You're still sexy as hell, Jo," Meghan said, rubbing her own breast a little. "But why are you undressing? Is it necessary?"

"Yes," Jo said, her fingers going to the snap on her slacks. She opened it and then grasped the zipper. "In order for the propagation to work, you have to be in a highly aroused state when I take the blood from you. I have to engage in pinnacle feeding every time."

Ken watched as she slid the zipper down. She let the pants fall, revealing her bare legs and the matching panties. The panties were see-through and her damp sex was clearly visible. He swallowed and felt a little more of a stir. "Pinnacle feeding," he said slowly. "I've heard that mentioned quite a few times now, but no one has explained just what it is."

"Well," Jo said, "consider the meaning of the world 'pinnacle' for a moment. It means a high point, a peak, a ... climax, if you will."

"You mean ... uh ... climax?" Ken said.

Jo nodded. "When a human of either sex experiences orgasm, his or her blood is flooded with many things, particularly testosterone, oxytocin, and, most coveted, dopamine. When we feed on someone who is experiencing orgasm, we ingest all of these hormones and neurotransmitters and this gives the blood a little extra kick. It instills the cognate with a sense of euphoria that will be quite intense for several minutes and usually linger for hours afterward. For this reason most cognate, when time and circumstances permit, will bring their prey to orgasm before feeding and then bite right at the moment orgasm peaks—the pinnacle."

"Pinnacle feeding," Ken said slowly, feeling more blood rushing southward at the thought.

"And you have to do this to us every time during the propagation?" Meghan asked.

"You make it sound like it's going to be torturous or something," Jo said. "Is the thought that bad?"

"Well ... no, actually it's kind of ... intriguing," Meghan said. "I ... I just don't understand why."

"It's one of those things that nobody knows for sure," Jo said. "We don't have to pinnacle feed with humans when we're simply feeding. The hormones have no nutritional value. It is only for the pleasure we derive from them that we do it. In propagation, however, we must pinnacle feed. Your sex hormones must be present in your blood or my body will not release the propagation virus from my gonads. There are some who think this is because it helps the virus shape itself to the chemistry of your body, although there is not really much scientific basis for this. There are others who think that Whoever wanted sexuality to remain tied to the reproductive act. This perhaps makes a little more sense." She shrugged. "Whatever the reason, it is something that is simply going to have to be done if you two want to become proper cognate." She licked her lips. "So ... who shall I start with?"

"You can start with me," Meghan said quickly, her eyes shining now. "Uh ... I mean, so Ken can see how it's done ... you know ... so he won't be nervous."

Ken gave her a sour look. "Your concern for my nervousness is touching," he said.

"I just want you to feel at ease with all this," she said, her eyes looking over Jo's body again.

"Meghan it is then," Jo said with a smile. "This whole thing started with the two of us, didn't it? I suppose it's fitting that we start the propagation with the two of us as well."

Meghan chewed her bottom lip a little. "Will it ... will it hurt much?" she asked.

"Not too much," Jo said, reaching behind her back. She released her bra and let it fall to the floor at her feet. "It will be at the peak of your orgasm, my love, when your body and mine are producing the maximum possible sexual pleasure for you. You'll feel a sharp sting when I kiss your neck. I remember my first propagation bite. It was Gertie who did it first. It was a bittersweet pain that stood right on the fence between pleasure and pain."

Meghan nodded slowly. She was staring at Jo's bare breasts quite hungrily. "Okay," she said softly.

"Are you ready then?" Jo asked her.

"I'm ready," she said.

"Then let's get you an orgasm brewing, shall we?" She stepped forward, so she was standing at the foot of the bed, her bare knees touching Meghan's denim clad knees. "Suck my nipples, sweetie," she whispered to her. "You always did love to put your mouth on them, didn't you?"

"Yesss," Meghan hissed.

"Then suck them now," Jo said. "Make us both wet and ready."

Meghan leaned forward and captured Jo's left nipple between her lips. She suckled it like a baby.

"Mmmm," Jo sighed, her fingers running through Meghan's hair. "Very nice. You have the softest, sexiest mouth."

Ken reached over and put his hand on Jo's panty-clad buttocks. Before he could even give them a proper stroking, however, she gently pushed his digits away.

"No touching me for now," Jo told him. "Meghan is first. And for this first time, this will just be between me and Meghan."

"Awww," Ken said with mock dejection.

"You'll get your turn," Jo promised. "Believe me, there's enough of me to go around."

Meghan's hands quickly picked up where Ken's had left off. She began to run her fingers up and down the backs of Jo's thighs, caressing her from the swelling of her buttocks down to the back of her knees. Her mouth grew busier as well, licking and tonguing the nipple, making it firm and erect before switching to the other one and doing the same.

"Yes, that's it," Jo breathed. "Touch me. Suck me. Do the things to me that make you wet, that make your clit hard. Get us ready for love."

Meghan did her very best. She hooked her fingers into the waist of Jo's panties and slowly drew them down her legs. Ken, sitting two feet away, could see and smell that Jo was quite ready for love. Her lips were swollen and shiny with moisture. Her musk was strong and sharp in the air.

Jo sighed as Meghan kissed downward over her belly and then across her hip and onto her upper thigh. She craned her head forward and ran her tongue gently into Jo's slit, giving a strong, deliberate lick. "Mmmm, yess," Jo moaned, shuddering a little. "You are a naughty little girl, aren't you?"

Meghan didn't answer. She simply kept licking and tonguing between those wet lips. When she fastened her mouth to Jo's swollen clitoris and began to gently suck, Jo shuddered again and then put her hands to Meghan's head and pushed her away.

"Now now," she told Meghan a little breathlessly, "the idea is not to make me come, it's to make you come."

"But there's no prohibition against it, is there?" Meghan asked sweetly.

"No," Jo said, "but like with other things, there will be time for that later. Why don't we get you undressed and see how ready you are for me?"

"Well ... okay," Meghan said shyly.

They got her undressed, Jo helping her pull off her shirt and her bra (she was unable to resist a few strokes and a suckle on each of Meghan's delectable breasts as they were bared) and then she kneeled at the front of the bed and pulled down her jeans, leaving her sitting in a pair of lavender panties.

"Your panties seem to be a bit wet, dear," Ken said from next to her.

"Just a little," Meghan said with a giggle.

Jo removed the panties, sliding them down and off. She gently pushed Meghan's knees apart, until they were wide open. She reached forward and ran her index finger between Meghan's folds. The finger came away shiny with moisture. "Yes," Jo said, licking the juices off her finger, "I think you're ready for love."

"How ... how are you going to do it?" Meghan asked. "Are you going to ... to ... lick me?"

"No," Jo said, "not this first time. My mouth needs to be near your neck at the moment of orgasm. We'll have to make you come some other way."

Meghan smiled happily. She knew what Jo was talking about. They had done it before. "I like that way," she said.

"I know you do," Jo said. "And now you know why I'm so good at it, don't you?"

Meghan nodded. "I guess I do," she said.

Meghan lay back on the bed, her legs spread widely, the same way she laid when Ken was preparing to mount her in the standard missionary position. Jo climbed onto the bed and lay atop her, her legs mostly closed, her pubis pushing against Meghan's, her breasts against Meghan's, her face directly over Meghan's. Both of them were flushed and breathing heavily.

"Kiss me, sweetie," Jo whispered to her. "Kiss me and feel me love you."

Their mouths came together. Their tongues flitted into each other's mouths. And as they kissed, Jo began to move her pelvis, seeking the contact of her wet vaginal lips against Meghan's erect clitoris. It didn't take her long to find the right alignment.

"Oooh," Meghan moaned into her mouth when the connection was made.

"Mmm hmmm," Jo moaned back without breaking the kiss.

Jo ground herself into Meghan, her pelvis moving up and down, back and forth, in circles to the left, in circles to the right. All the while her wet and slippery vaginal lips and the firm surface of her pubis were rubbing against Meghan's erect clitoris, stimulating it, pushing against it, rubbing it, making it feel good. The action started slowly as the two of them kissed each other passionately, but soon, very soon, Jo's grinds became harder and more forceful, her circles faster and tighter.

Their kiss broke. Meghan was too breathless to continue it. "Yessss, ohhh yess!" she moaned, her hands going to Jo's buttocks to pull her tighter against her. "I love it when you do me like this. I love it!"

"I know you do, baby," Jo said, licking at her jaw line, nibbling on her ear. "I know you do. And I know it makes you come."

"Yes!" Meghan panted.

"I can feel your hard clit against me, baby," Jo said. "You're gonna come soon, aren't you?"

"Yes," Meghan panted, her nails scratching at Jo's flesh. "I want to ... to come, but ... but ... I'm scared."

"I know you're scared, sweetie, but you want me to bite you too, don't you?" Jo asked.

"Yes," Meghan moaned.

"You want to feel my teeth on your neck, giving you the sweet pain of propagation while you come all over my wetness, don't you?"

"Yes!" Meghan moaned, louder this time. "I want to."

"Are you getting closer now?" Jo asked, grinding extra hard now, her left hand stretched upward and stroking Meghan's hair, her right down on Meghan's thigh, holding it open.

Meghan nodded. Her face was now flushed and sweat was breaking out on her forehead. "Soon," she panted. "Very soon."

Jo continued to grind against her, mixing some up and down motion in along with the twisting and the circling. Meghan's thighs started to quiver and tremble. Her pelvis began to rise and fall from the surface of the bed, grinding back against Jo. She began to make a high pitched whine with the back of her throat. Her eyes closed. All of these were signs Ken and Jo both knew well. Her orgasm was approaching fast.

"I'm gonna ... I'm gonna..." Meghan cried.

"Yes, baby," Jo told her. "Let it go. Come for me and let me start the embrace."

"Oh ... oh ... oh ... Godddd!" Meghan cried out, her hands digging fully into Jo's butt now, her mouth opening wide.

"Yes!" Jo said, grinding harder and faster. "That's it. Almost time."

"Jesus fucking God!" Meghan screamed.

That was the cue Jo had been waiting for. Meghan almost always lapsed into guttural, blasphemous profanity when her orgasm was at its peak. "That's it," Jo whispered to her. "Now give me your neck. Get ready for the sweet pain."

"Fuck! Yes! God ... do it, Jo! Do it to me!" Meghan cried. She turned her head to the side, opening up the left side of her neck.

Ken watched as Jo used the hand that was in Meghan's hair to tilt her head back and tighten the neck up. She then put her mouth down just under the angle of Meghan's jaw. She hesitated for the briefest of instances and then opened her mouth and put it on the Sweet Spot. She moved her mouth a little, as if checking position, and then Meghan suddenly jolted.

"Ohhh!" she squealed, her body tightening, her pelvis giving an extra hard thrust upward into Jo's. "Jesus ... that's ... ohhh!"

Ken was leaning in closely, less than eight inches away. He could see Jo's mouth moving, could see her throat pulsing as she swallowed. In that instant, she looked every bit the vampire she was. Ken shuddered a little as the reality of what he was witnessing struck him. A vampire was feeding on his wife!

Meghan's orgasmic thrusts slowly faded away. Her entire body started to relax against Jo. She hummed a little. It was not an unhappy sound.

"How does it feel, babe?" Ken asked her, as he watched her eyes turn glassy.

"Nice," she said softly. "It feels ... nice." A moment later, all awareness went out of her face. She was staring up at the ceiling as if the secrets of the universe could be found in the whirling blades of the wooden fan mounted up there. Her hands fell away from Jo's buttocks and lay still on the bedspread.

Jo's mouth had gone still on Meghan's neck. Her pelvic thrusts had come to a stop as well. She kept her mouth in place for a few seconds and then slowly lifted her head. The Sweet Spot on Meghan's neck was wet with saliva but was otherwise completely unmarked.

Jo turned her head toward Ken, locking eyes with him. "I don't believe I've ever enjoyed a feeding as much as I enjoyed that one," she said.

Ken wasn't quite sure what the proper response to that was. His emotions were in turmoil, with dark arousal competing with creepily disturbed for dominance. Dark Arousal, had it been a horse at the track, however, would have been the odds-on favorite. "She ... uh ... tasted good, did she?" he asked.

"On a strictly aesthetic level, it was a normal pinnacle feeding," Jo said. "The blood was sweet, satisfying, and flavored with her sex hormones. I can feel the effects of her high dopamine and oxytocin levels surging through me right now. But on an emotional level..." She sighed contentedly. " ... that was Meghan's blood I just consumed, and I consumed it as the first step in my propagation of her. That makes it a feeding far beyond any other I've experienced in my cognate life. Not even my first feeding can compare."

Ken shifted a little. His penis was still throbbing hard in his pants and wondering when it was going to get in on the action. "So ... uh ... when is it my turn?" he asked, trying (and failing) to sound casual about it.

"Soon," Jo said, lifting her naked body off Meghan. Meghan gave no protest. "I need to process her blood first so it doesn't intermingle with yours. That will take a few minutes."

"Oh ... okay," he replied. He looked down at his wife. She was still staring at the ceiling fan, her hands at her side, her legs spread obscenely wide. She had a smile on her face. "Will she remember what happened?"

"Up until the point I bit her and started to feed, she will," Jo said. "You two have long ceased to have any amnesiac affects from my pheromones but amnesiac proteins in my saliva are of a different nature and will still keep you from recording memories while you're under their influence. There is no tolerance or immunity to the saliva-bound proteins, at least not while you're still human."

"While we're still human?" he asked.

"The propagation is a gradual process," she explained. "You won't be human one minute, cognate the next. If I successfully introduce the virus to you it will start to change your DNA sometime around the fifteenth to eighteenth night of propagation. By about the twentieth night, you'll start to notice the changes—just little things at first. One of them will be that the amnesiac proteins will stop working on you."

Ken nodded. "What other kinds of changes will we see first?"

She simply smiled. "It will be subtle things at first, things you will probably not even notice..." She paused for a moment. " ... uh, with a few rather dramatic exceptions."

"What exceptions?"

"Your bodies will start to repair damage done to it," she said. "Unfortunately ... I suppose ... one of the first things you're going to notice is your tattoos."

"Our tattoos?" Ken asked.

"Right," she said. "Your body will start to dissolve or otherwise reject any foreign material that does not really belong there and will start to heal any scarring or deformities. Pigmented skin layers scarred with tattoo ink will be one of the first things replaced."

Ken looked at the tattoo on his left arm—the circling hawk with the pilot's wings on its chest. It had been there for almost twenty years now and was so much a part of him that it would be extremely odd to look down and find it gone. He felt a sense of sadness at the thought that it would no longer be with him. And then there was Meghan's morning glory on her back. She had sat through nine painful hours over three sessions in order to get that piece of work done. It had cost more than fifteen hundred dollars when tips were included. Meghan was not going to be very happy about that at all.

"And that's not all," Jo said.

"It's not?"

She shook her head. "Any artificial implants in your teeth will be rejected as well. All fillings, crowns, and implants will either be dissolved and absorbed or just squeezed out as your teeth return to optimum condition."

"Does it hurt?" Ken asked.

"I'm told that it's a bit painful," Jo said. "I never went through it myself. Any surgical implants you might have will be rejected as well. That too can be painful depending on how big the implant is. An artificial knee or a pin in a shoulder would be forced to the surface and out through the skin."

"Wow," Ken said. Fortunately, neither he or Meghan had any such implants.

"And then there's piercings," Jo said. "You don't have any, but Meghan's earrings and her belly button ring will have to go. If the rings aren't removed before the healing process begins they'll be forced out of the skin as the holes close up."

"Meghan's not going to like that either," Ken predicted.

"No, I don't suppose she will," Jo said sadly. "I've never been a fan of tattoos really—the era I was raised in—but I did grow strangely attached to her belly button ring. Not that it matters after the propagation, of course. Once she's cognate I won't be down there kissing her belly anymore anyway."

"It'll be weird seeing her without her tattoo or her belly ring," Ken said. "She's had them for years."

"The cost of being cognate," Jo said with a shrug. "Anyway, about the twentieth day is also when your developing bodily repair system will start to attack the tumors you've grown. And that's what we're really shooting for, isn't it?"

Ken nodded. "Yes," he said. "I guess my tattoo is kind of a small price to pay, isn't it?"

"Yes," Jo said. "Once it goes after the tumors, I don't imagine it will be more than twenty-four hours or so before they're gone completely." She reached over and touched his arm. "That is when I'll know this is really going to work. That is what my goal has been this entire time."

He grasped her hand and gave it a squeeze. "You're giving me the gift of life," he said. "Sometimes I forget that, Jo. Thank you."

"It's my pleasure," she said. "And ... speaking of pleasure..." She reached up and caressed the side of his face. "I'm not quite done processing Meghan's blood just yet, but maybe we should make sure you stay properly interested in our goal for the evening?"