Blood for the Vampiress Ch. 02

Melvin smiled at good old Bridget and her lawyerly cynicism. He glanced over at Morgan, and she was smiling, too. It was good to see Bridget retain a little of her rigor amidst the weariness that had been unsettling her since the phone call from Joey.

St. Graves continued stroking his wispy white goatee as he said, "Yet you travel with Mrs. McMuffin, who I understand to be one of the more powerful witches of the modern world?"

"Don't sell me short, Doctor. The ancient world, too," Morgan threw in her two cents.

"The difference being that as a lawyer, I have no choice but to believe Morgan. I've seen the evidence. I've seen her work with my own two eyes. On the other hand, I have never seen a vampire," Bridget countered. St. Graves' lips curled up in a curious smile.

"In that case," he said. "Follow me."

***

St. Graves might call it a basement, but as far as Melvin was concerned, it was a dungeon. Rickety wooden stairs led them down to a cement floor and stone walls. Slime dripped down one wall and formed a stagnant greenish puddle. Fat spiders strung cobwebs in the corners. The old man pushed through a barred doorway to a large musty room where Alexandria Knight seemed to be beating the shit out of a raggedy-looking teenager.

"Who'd you bite!" Alex demanded then lashed out with a hard right to the kid's jaw. It connected with a meaty thud. Blood bubbled between his lips, and he shook his head. His straw-colored hair was matted against his forehead with blood and sweat.

"No one," he managed. Alex kicked him in the ribs, and something crunched. The boy cried out in pain.

"The thing with vampires is they're hard to kill," St. Graves whispered in a low voice. "But their tolerance of pain is on the same level as us. Hence, torture becomes very handy."

"No one?" Alex punched the boy directly in the crotch. He responded by retching up a cacophony of a groan mixed with whatever slop had previously resided in his stomach but now spewed against the floor with a wet splat. His knees buckled under him, but his wrists held him up, shackled and held up by a chain hanging from the ceiling.

Melvin felt sick to his stomach; the boy a member of the undead or not, what Alex Knight was doing to him seemed unnecessary and cruel.

Knowing his thoughts, Morgan held his arm, leaned in and said into his ear, "Be strong, babe. He's an undead, and he'd just as quick as suck the life out of you as look at you."

"No one," the boy mumbled, tears leaking from the corners of his eyes.

Bridget had seen worse cases of police brutality and seemed unaffected. She said, "This proves nothing. How do we know he's a vampire? He looks like a punk getting the hell beat out of him."

"Quite right," St. Graves said and pulled a pistol out of the back of his trousers. In a louder voice aimed at Alexandria, he said, "Is the fiend telling the truth?"

"Yes," Alex returned. "He's not strong enough to lie to me." She slapped him hard across the face; the stinging blow echoed through the room.

"Are you?" she challenged. The kid said nothing, just hung his head down and bled on the floor. St. Graves turned towards Bridget and held out the gun.

"Care to try?" he offered. Bridget shook her head in the negative. Vampire or not, she was not going to point a gun at the pathetic figure in front of her and send it into the next world. St. Graves did not share similar concerns. He directed the gun at the boy and pulled the trigger. The pistol barked lead from the old man's hand.

The round caught the kid in the head, blowing a large chunk of brain and skull from its home and relocating it on the stone wall in a steaming spatter of red and gray. The kid cried out an unholy inhuman scream but held his ground, trying to claw at the wound as if it could be fixed by just sticking everything back where it belonged. One of the kid's eyes dangled from its socket, swinging like a broken yo-yo.

"Ah, it hurts! IT HURTS!" he cried, shuddering and clawing the air.

"Holy God," Melvin said in a dead voice. St. Graves gave him a grave look.

"Son, God has nothing to do with it."

He raised his voice, directing it at his apprentice. Alexandria Knight stood and watched the vampire with a solemn expression, a grim smile on her face. Something about her ran a chill down Melvin's back; Knight was one cold customer.

"Alex, finish this aberration off for me, will you?" St. Graves said. He replaced the pistol, and this time, Melvin noticed the holster wrapped around his lower back. Alexandria walked over to the opposite wall, wrenched a wooden stake from a place-holder and made her way back to the screaming, skull-shattered teenager. Bits of brains spilled over and oozed down the thing's frenzied face like melting ice cream.

"To hell with you, fiend," Alex said as she thrust the stake deep into the creature's chest. The thing shrieked one last, high-pitched time and then burst into flames.

Bridget turned to Melvin and said, "I officially believe in vampires."

***

Melvin turned over and stared at the ceiling. Thoughts burned through his mind. Next to him on the bed, Morgan slept soundly, wrapped in a cocoon of sheet and blankets. She murmured something under her breath, dreaming deep. Melvin sighed and wished he could do the same. If only he wasn't so afraid of what he might dream. He couldn't get the kid (his skull cracked open, brains bubbling out like a jelly doughnut with a bite in it) out of his head.

Melvin looked out the window at the moon glistening over the whispering fields of corn. Even the corn looked sinister, the night an opera of dancing demons, whistling imps and howling children of the night. Questions rode the moonbeams: Had Joey stumbled upon the liar of Count Dracula? Was St. Graves but another version of Van Helsing?

Rubbing his eyes, Melvin swung his feet out of bed and placed them upon the cold wood floor. At this rate, his thoughts would never allow him to fall asleep. He decided to rummage around the kitchen and see if he might stumble upon anything that might help him sleep, preferably a sandwich and milk. He patted Morgan's luscious rump, stood up and made his way out of the bedroom.

Voices crept up the stairway as Melvin made his way down, and he slowed. Apparently, he wasn't the only one up at this ungodly hour. From the sound of it, the esteemed doctor was in his study, engaged in conversation. A spear of light spread from the crack of the door and stabbed the wall with a thin yellow line. Melvin thought he might drop in and say hello.

Peering in through the crack as he approached, Melvin stopped dead in his tracks. His breath caught in his throat, and he shook his head, clearing the cobwebs, making sure he was seeing what he seemed to be seeing. St. Graves sat in his leather chair, his head thrown back and staring up at the ceiling while Alexandria Knight bobbed her head between his legs. Her straightened black hair glistened in the dim yellow light of St. Graves' desk lamp.

"You handled yourself admirably today, Alex. I am quite proud of you," the old man said as he gripped the sides of her head. Alex slurped in response. St. Graves gritted his teeth a moment then regained his composure. "Arizona may prove dangerous."

"Nothing could be worse than Moscow," Alex said just long enough to utter the words before deep-throating St. Graves to the root of his stubby cock. His balls rubbed against her wet chin. The old man sighed and closed his eyes.

"It could be dangerous, all the same," he replied. "The witch will be helpful. The other two, who knows? Possible liabilities. We'll have to keep them close."

Alex was topless; Melvin could see the muscles of her back rippling. He felt his cock stir thinking about her bare breasts swaying as she took the vampire hunter in her mouth. The old man sure knew how to pick an apprentice- tough as nails and an avid cock sucker to boot. Melvin stifled a laugh at the thought.

"Do you want to cum on my tits tonight?" Alex asked, spitting out the cock in her mouth. The old man stroked his goatee as he considered it. Alex continued to stroke him with one hand as she waited for his response. Watching outside the door, Melvin forced himself to remember this was the same woman who had tortured and staked the creature in the dungeon earlier the same day.

"Tonight, I will cum within you," the old man decided.

"Excellent."

Alex stood up. Her toned dark body gleamed with sweat. She stepped out of her pants, abs flexing, and positioned her lean body over St. Graves' fat, stubby cock. Slowly, she lowered her pussy over him, her hands gripping the sides of the leather chair for support. St. Graves groaned as he entered her. She began to ride him reverse cowgirl, the leather chair squeaking and creaking.

"You've learned so well," the old man said as Alex bucked on top of him, his hands cupping her breasts, her back arching, her tongue slipping out and over her lips.

St. Graves did not last long, but Melvin couldn't blame him. Alexandria was a sight to behold and just looking at her made Melvin so hard it hurt. After two minutes of Alex's bucking, the old man gasped and squirted wads of thick cum within her, then pulling out and splattering a rope of cum up her pelvis to just under her belly button.

"Good doctor," Alex purred.

Before they could notice him, Melvin slipped back up the staircase and to his bedroom, led by his pointing boner. He tiptoed to the bed and shook Morgan's shoulder; lust flushed pink across his face. After the show in St. Graves' study, Melvin needed a bit of sexual release.

Morgan's eyes fluttered, and she muttered, "Honey, what..." Her eyes widened as they happened across the tented portion of Melvin's pajama pants.

"How about it?" he said.

"Oh, Melvin. I'm too tired," she groaned.

"But..." Melvin interjected as Morgan merely pointed at his crotch, and Melvin felt his cock explode in his pants. His lust dissipated as warm cum flooded into his boxers and dribbled down his legs. He gasped. His crotch felt hot, wet and sticky.

Morgan had made him blow his load with some weird spell because she was too tired to take care of him the old fashioned way!

"That should end it," Morgan said, turned over and fell back to sleep. Melvin frowned.

"Yeah, thanks a lot."

He grabbed another pair of boxer shorts and treaded to the bathroom to change.