Chapter 2

Deanna Schlock rolled her eyes as her father handed out her work for the day. She nodded her head when he was finished and then reached into her book bag, pulling out her Ipod and ear buds. She was forced to work for her father and she did it for free, but no one said she had to enjoy it.

Quickly grabbing trash bags, she went through the store and the work room, emptying each receptacle and then headed for the back door that led into the alley. She tried to ignore the tremor of unease she'd always felt in the alley. It was dark, covered in shadows, and she hurried toward the dumpster, picking up the lid and tossing the big bag she'd collected. Then she closed it up and turned back toward the door, her steps slowing when she realized that the door had closed.

It had an automatic lock and she knew she was locked out. Letting loose a shrill scream of panic, she kicked and hit at the heavy metal door, trying to get her dad's attention so he would open the door.

"Fuck!" she growled, turning and kicking at an empty box. She had two options, neither one thrilling her any at all. She could continue to bruise her hand on the door and hope that her half deaf father would hear her and open the door.

Or ... she could walk down the long, dark alley and go around to the front of the store. Her hands rose and she rubbed at her arms, all ready feeling the chill and the fear that came with it. "Daddy!" she screeched. "Open the door!"

"Damn, damn, damn!" Deanna pushed away from the door. Her father was working in the front of the store today. He would never hear her cries or come looking for her until he did miss her. That could take hours. Looking down the long alley she could see the light at the end, almost as if she were drowning and could see the sun peering down at her. Tears streamed down her cheeks and she forced herself to take that first step. The light on the back door of her father's store was the only light that could be seen and she hated stepping out of the cone of safety it gave her.

Her next step came quicker and then quicker still until she was running down the alley. She jumped bags of trash and veered around the homeless man that made this alley a home. The light from the street seemed almost in reach and she breathed a heavy sigh, though she didn't slow down.

Then it was as if she'd hit a brick wall. She could feel blood dripping from her forehead and she wiped it away, pushing gently at the abrasion and bump it had left. "W ... what the fuck?"

"Such language, little girl."

Deanna shrieked again and spun her hands out to try and protect herself. "Y ... you scared me," she stuttered, staring at the stranger. He was tall and dark, his eyes glowing a startling red. He was handsome, even with the strange eyes and she felt her body relax involuntarily. "Who are you?"

"You know me Deanna. Just think about it a bit. I'm sure it will come to you."

Deanna wiped another gob of blood off of her forehead and she glared at the man who seemed intent upon his silly games. "I don't want to think about it. I want to go inside and have my daddy take me to the Emergency Room. My head really hurts." She could feel the heat of her tears and she tried to wipe them aside.

"Oh, I can make all that pain go away, Deanna. You've just got to answer a silly little question for me." He reached out and Deanna tried to duck around him. She didn't want him to touch her, not in any way.

"No! I'm going to find my father." She glared at him, bristling as she heard him chuckle and then wave his hand out to let her go.

"Be my guest," he said cordially enough, stepping back to give her more room to get by him. He glanced only once down the long alley, seeing the door to her father's shop start to open, and then he turned, following Deanna as she stepped into the vortex he created. She screamed as the wind began to blow, harder and yet still harder, stealing the breath from her lungs.

Soon she was holding out a hand, reaching for something, for anything that would help her stand. He stood just outside of her reach smiling congenially even as the wind whipped her hair into her face.

"You've only to ask for my hand and I will willingly give it to you, Deanna. All of this can become nothing more than a nightmare. You've just got to answer a question."

"W ... what kind of a question!" She screamed the words at him.

"You know the whereabouts of the newborn," he tipped his head down as he asked the question, looking up at her from beneath his thick lashes.

"What newborn?" Deanna shrieked.

Then the world around her grew so silent she felt as if she could hear the world sucking the air away from her. She gasped, looking up to stare at the stranger that was causing all of this around her. "What newborn?" she whispered, her tone of voice seemed very loud. She ducked her head, wishing she could hide from him.

"The newborn that has been in all the prophesies. Don't tell me you don't know about them. All your coven knows."

"Coven? I'm not in a coven." Deanna tried to move away from him but he reached out and took her chin in a grip of steel, actually bruising her.

"The same coven your friends are in," he growled, sounding even more menacing. "The tri crescent that they wear." He grabbed the front of her shirt and tore it down the front, his hand pulling the sides away from her skin. "Where is it?"

"I don't believe in that stuff!" she screamed, hating the way his skin felt against her flesh. It was cold and somewhat slimy in texture.

"You don't believe in it? You don't belong to the coven and yet they still let you hang around with them. Oh honey, that is really too sad." He clicked his tongue and Deanna looked up at him.

His smile was wide, his teeth almost too white against the darkness of his skin. His canine teeth were sharp, fang-like. He licked his tongue across them and she shrieked. "What are you going to do to me?!"

"I can't just let you go, Deanna. You'll tell the authorities and they'll come after me. They won't find me, of course, but it will put a knot in my plans." He sighed, shaking his head sadly. "I'm sorry, Deanna. I just can't let you go running back to tell them."

"I won't," she said quickly, looking up at him with the most earnest of expressions she could find. "I won't tell anyone. I promise."

"Oh, you promise?" His eyebrows rose as he spoke.

"Yes," she answered, nodding her head. The tiniest bit of hope flaring in her heart. "I promise."

His mouth quirked and he tipped his head as if he were weighing her words. "You won't even tell your best friends? The girls that belong to the coven?"

"No, I won't tell anyone, mister. Please..." A sob broke her voice and she wiped her eyes with the back of her hands.

"I wish I could believe you, Deanna." He sighed heavily, walking up to the girl. His hand came up and he brushed her hair out of her face. "If it was only that I needed to believe you ... Mayhap I might find a special place for you."

"A ... a special place?" Her voice was slightly higher pitches and it spoke of the lack of belief that she was feeling at the moment.

"Oh, yes, Deanna. I am need of a consort, a female that is able to be my general when I am unavailable. You would have to be true to me and do whatever I ask you to do. He brushed her lips with his finger, teasing the moist flesh. "Of course, part of proving your true faith in will have to be proven with your body, Deanna." His eyes roamed over the young girl, watching as her eyes sharpened as she finally comprehended his meaning.

"You ... you want me to ... to fuck you?" Her words were hesitant the curse seeming to surprise her as she said it.

"I've been told, Deanna, that I am a very fine specimen of a man." He stood straighter, staring down at her. "Would it be terrible to share pleasure with me? To give me the chance to show you what pleasure that I'm capable of giving?" He grabbed her hair, tugging her even closer so that the heat of her breath blew upon her cheeks. "Relax, Deanna. Reach out with your mind, close your eyes." He let his finger trace over her closed eyelids and the thread into her hair. Drawing her up to her tiptoes, he bent his head.

Deanna sobbed as she felt the first touch of his mouth upon hers. Tears streaked down her face and she wanted nothing more than to push this monster away from her. She desperately wanted to run, to find her father and have him save her from what he was going to want her to do.

His tongue pressed into her mouth and she sobbed, forcing her mouth to stay open for the possession of her tongue. His hands moved her body, squeezing the curve of her ass as if he were checking on the ripeness of her ass. He lifted her hips, pressing them into the front of his jeans. He grabbed her hips, twisting them so that she rubbed against his cock.

"Oh, now this is nice," he whispered catching her lips once more. He held up one hand, letting his index finger raise as the rest twisted into a fist. That finger moved over her face. He touched her lips, smiling down at her. "Very well done, Deanna. Now I have only one last act that you will have to perform for me to trust the measure of your trustworthiness."

"W ... what?"

"It's nice to know there's still a bit of backbone left in you, Deanna." He chuckled, his fingers rubbing at her shoulders. "I want you," he said slowly. "You come to me willingly, you do whatever I say to do, then perhaps I can find it in me to spare your life."

Deanna began to hope that she might make this out alive. She took the single last step that brought her flush against him. "I ... I'll do anything you wish. Please, don't kill me."

He smiled, bending to press a single kiss to her lips. Then his hands were on her shoulders, pushing her to her knees. She stared up at him, finally looking at the pants in front of her. Her fingers went to the button and zipper that was all that was between her and the demon.

"I ... I don't even know what your name is?" She glanced up again into his face.

His skin was a dark caramel color, a flush showing on his cheeks. His eyes, no longer red, were a fine amber color that seemed almost too true to be believable. His lips were parted and he smiled down at her gently.

"I guess it would probably be better to know the name of the man who's dick is going down your throat in a couple of moments. My name, little one, is Achabar. My father wished for me to have a memorable name. He wanted my name to wreck fear in the hearts of man. I just wanted to make sure that it made the women's panties wet." He laughed at his own joke and then moaned as she finished freeing his cock. Her lips were warm and very wet as he suckled him in and he ran his hands around her hair.

"Very nice, Deanna. Just watch the teeth and I'll have a good little cocksucker at my whim."

Deanna gagged when he pushed too far into her mouth but he didn't care. He pulled her head until her nose was buried against his pubic hair. She coughed and gagged, pushing him away with her hands on his thighs. But he didn't allow her any leeway, keeping his hands on her hair. He gave her a moment to breath but then pulled her right back, shoving his hard cock down her throat and cutting off her breathing.

He finally relented, helping her to stand in front of him. "We have an audience, Deanna," he whispered into her ear. "Show them how you strip."

Deanna glanced around into the darkness. Creatures, dark and demonic, seemed to be crawling out of the nothingness around them. Some were close enough to reach out and touch her, but he kept them back with just a look or a growl. "Strip for us, Deanna. Otherwise, I find myself growing bored."

She gulped in fear but knew what he was saying. If he grew bored, Deanna might find herself under these fiends and freaks. But if she did what he wanted, he would save her. He had to save her.

She reached up, slowly pulling the sides of her white blouse apart, showing off the new light pink bra that her mother had gotten for her. The cups were demi-half cups and they barely held her beautiful curves in place. She felt the hitch in her breathing, felt her breasts jiggle in those cups and heard his sigh of contentment.

"Have you been bred?"

"W ... what?"

"Have you given birth?" There was a growling murmur from the ever growing mass of indefinable goons around them.

Deanna shook her head. "N ... no. I'm only 18," she gasped.

"Hmmm, that's really too bad. Continue, please."

Mutters of agreement had her moving closer to him and she reached for the button on her jeans, snagging the zipper to pull down. Take them off, she felt his hand reach out and slip between her thighs.

Pleasure suffused her, something she hadn't expected to feel. Her pussy felt swollen and wet, a heavy throbbing sending luscious beats to her clit. She had an undeniable need to stroke her breasts, to twist her nipples, maybe even take one into her own mouth.

"Please," she gasped, looking up at him.

"Oh yes, please do," he answered, reaching out and snagging the back closure of her bra and flipping it open. "Show me how you pleasure yourself, Deanna. Show me what you like."

The bra was torn from her arms and he flipped it over to a bright red blob like being. It lifted it in its hideously gooey hands, its long tongue slicking inside the cups, leaving saliva to drip from her bra. But Deanna didn't notice. She was cupping her breasts, squeezing them together, pulling on her nipples. She twisted them with desperation, her hips moving harshly rubbing against the tight crotch of her panties.