Act II: Dark Betrayal, Dark Vengeance

Act II: Dark Betrayal, Dark Vengeance

By: P. Christopher

It was daytime at Castle SuffeRing, inside a Vampire slept and a Werewolf prowled the corridors. Arching her back, Rayven stretched, hopped down from the bed where her master slept, moved silently across the floor switching to human form long enough to slip carefully out the door. In the hall she returned to her lupine shape, prowling through the castle, alert to any possible threat. When she was satisfied that the castle was safe, she rose to her full stature. In her Human form her Latin heritage was evident in her dark brown eyes, long black hair, and smooth honey kissed skin. Her nipples stood erect on pert breasts, stimulated by the cold stone floor beneath her bare feet.

"Don't see why he has to keep it so cold in here," she said aloud, slipping onto a balcony, into the warmth of the noon sun. "He's dead, he doesn't feel it."

In the distance the city sprawled for hundred of miles in every direction. Inhaling deeply her heightened sense of smell reveled in the scents of the woods surrounding the castle. A familiar scent made the hair at the nape of her neck bristle and brought a snarl to her lips. "What do you want, Skylar?" she snapped at the Human woman standing below her.

"Hello, my slave sister. Our master beckons you."

"Your master. He abandoned me; remember? My master is sleeping across the hall."

"A mistake he readily admits. Now he bids you return to his castle before the setting of the sun so that he may soothe the hurt of the past and count you among his possessions once again."

"Never."

"Before the setting of the sun, my sister."

She was gone before Rayven could say another word, leaving the slave with her thoughts, her memories. She touched the black leather collar at her throat, her mind flooding with memories even as her delicate fingers traced Lord Suffer's initials embossed in blood red letters. She tried in vain to stem the flow, but soon she was swept away by a tide of recollection.

#

Rayven woke, blinking her soft brown eyes against the sparkling sunlight. But something was terribly amiss. She was looking up at a blue sky framed by the dingy green edges of a garbage dumpster; she was laying naked on a bed of trash. The last she could recall she was at a nightclub dancing seductively with her bound sister, Skylar, while their master watched on in amusement.

Her first thought was for her master's safety, but as her hands touched the bare flesh of her neck, she realized to her horror what had happened. The truth was too awful to bear, but it was the only explanation. She had been abandoned-tossed aside like so much human refuse.
There must be some mistake, she reasoned. There had to be. Shifting to lupine form, she sprang from the dumpster, darted down a crowded sidewalk. She was exposed, vulnerable, yet she knew no fear of Hunters, only her desire to return home.

Shadow Keep was a towering marvel of steel and smoked glass. It rose like a great obelisk from the city streets stretching beyond the clouds. Glittering in the golden rays of noon, it was like a lighthouse guiding her through the storm. The first ten storeys were hollowed out to accommodate enormous sculptures and grotesque tapestries depicting unspeakable acts of torture and cruelty under an elaborately painted vaulted ceiling.

When she came at last to stand at the gate to her master's home, her entrance was denied.

"Let me pass!" she demanded, returning to Human shape.

"You are no longer a member of this household," said the guardian at the front desk. Alerted by his tone the two guards at the elevator leveled their weapons at Rayven. She had no doubt that they were loaded with silver bullets.

Even nude, Rayven would not be dissuaded. "I may die, but I will not die alone," she growled. "Now let me speak to my master!"

"Stand down," Azrael's voice commanded over the intercom.

At their employer's command the men lowered their rifles. With a ding the elevator announced its arrival before its doors yawned wide. As she strode past, Rayven held each man in her gaze, challenging them. The doors folded her in the elevators steel embrace and bore her up to Azrael's home, which occupied the top four storeys.

When the doors opened again she was confronted by Skylar; her grim expression did not bode well for Rayven.

"You should not have come back," said Skylar, her head bowed, hands clasped at her waist.

"I have come to speak to master," she replied.
Skylar lifted her left arm to indicate direction. "My master awaits you in the living room."

"I know the way."

#

As Rayven entered the room, Azrael switched off the holovid but did not turn his eyes to her even as she sank to her knees before him. "Why have you come here?"

"I have come seeking answers, Master," she said softly. "Why have you forsaken this girl? What have I done that was so terrible that I should be abandoned?"

Azrael shrugged. "Whimsy perhaps. I don't need a reason for my actions, girl. I do as I wish. And I am no longer your master; you have lost the privilege to address me as such. Your name has been stricken from the ledger."

Rayven's mind reeled. How many girls had she seen come and go in the two centuries she had served this Vampire? How many times had she sworn that her name would never be crossed off the list of her master's possessions as theirs had?

Now as Skylar came and, folding her legs beneath her, kneeled beside Azrael, a smirk played across her lips. She must have truly enjoyed crossing my name out, thought Rayven. A hatred crept into her heart at that moment and she knew that one day she would murder the slave kneeling across from her. Slowly she came back o the moment.

"Now, I have been unusually generous with my time," Azrael was saying. "I suggest that you leave while you are still able. Should you return, I will make a meal of you."

Strengthened by her new resolve, Rayven regained her poise. In a husky voice she said," I have nothing to wear. I want my clothes."

Azrael chuckled. "Your clothes? A slave has no possessions. Anything you may have ever called your own had been fed to the fire. Still I suppose two hundred years of servitude deserves something." To Skylar he said, "Bring something suitable for the girl to wear."

"Yes, my master," Skylar replied then she disappeared into the kitchen. When she reappeared she humbly offered Rayven a trash bag.

"Yes," said Azrael. "I'd say that was very fitting."

The little Werewolf's eyes narrowed. In a display of rare grace she rose to her feet, turned her back on her former master and his slave, entered the waiting elevator.

In the lobby the guards stared openly, appraising her firm body as she crossed the room and out the door.

#

She wandered for a long time, lost in her thoughts, blindly following her feet wherever they led. When she looked up again, the moon was in the sky and she found herself in unfamiliar territory. All around her pine trees rose like great green spikes piercing the sky. At the edge of her vision a rabbit started and dashed away. Instinctively, Rayven melted into her wolf shape and chased it down.

As she devoured her meal, her thoughts turned to revenge. She decided that she would make the woods her home. There she would wait. There she would scheme. There she would gnaw the flesh from Skylar's bones.

#

Returning to the present, Rayven's eyes were yellow, a growl rumbled like thunder in her chest. Without another thought she left to dress and before she knew it she was charging through the woods on her way back to the city.

#

In the end it was faster to run than to drive. Even if it was legal for slaves to operate a vehicle without their owners present, the traffic into the city was notoriously congested this time of day.

The sun was not yet at its zenith when Rayven stood on two feet staring up at the dizzying heights of Shadow Keep for the first time in seven years. She couldn't help to feel that she was home again.

She was still on her guard as she stepped into the lobby so she was unbalanced when she was greeted cordially by the same men who had leveled their weapons at her years ago.

"Welcome home," said the man behind the counter. "Your master is waiting for you."

As the elevator ascended past the office levels Rayven was ill at ease with Azrael's sudden change, yet her heart stirred with a hope she had dared not harbor. But what of the Vampire whose collar she bore now? What of him?

What of Lord Suffer?

#

She had been living in the woods buffering Castle SuffeRing from the city for a little over a year never aware that she was being observed from a distance.

The snow was heavy that winter and food was scarce. One night while she was tracking a fat rabbit under the light of a full moon she met him. The rabbit's scent was strong as she crouched behind a bush. Her quarry lay on the other side. In a flash she pounced only to find her meal kicking helplessly as it dangled from the mouth of another wolf. The huge, black male regarded her with eyes the color of molten rock. Clearly an alpha male, her opponent exuded power, yet there was something unfamiliar about him.

While he was too large to be a natural wolf, he didn't smell like a Werewolf. In fact this wolf had no scent at all. There was but one explanation.

Vampire.

She didn't care. She was cold and hungry and he had stolen the food from her mouth. Growling, she bared two rows of jagged teeth; her ears were pressed flat against her head. The Vampire wolf flipped the morsel in the air, snapped it up again before she could reach it, then darted off.
Infuriated, Rayven gave chase, but every time she seemed to be bearing down on him, the other wolf pulled away. The pursuit led her though trees, over bushes, across a stream, finally terminating at the massive, intricately carved twin wooden doors that marked the threshold of Castle SuffeRing. Rayven stopped short of the doors. Just inside the other wolf waited, taunting her with the rabbit. It was a trap, that much was certain, but Rayven was hungry and angry and she could smell the rabbit. With a snarl she sprang.
With a booming note of finality, the doors slammed shut.

The Vampire wolf rose to his full six foot human form. His cinnamon skin belied his mixed Human heritage. Black hair was cropped close to his head. His eyes had cooled to a rich brown. The rabbit twitched in his right hand where he held it by the scruff. "My name is Suffer. I have been watching you."

Rayven backed against the doors, snarling her warning.

Cocking his head, Suffer asked, "How long has it been since you last walked on two legs?"

The Werewolf barked violently.

"Do you think that if I wanted you dead, that I wouldn't have killed you long ago? Come; let's have a look at you."

Rayven snarled as she looked for an escape.

"Now!" Suffer commanded. While his voice remained even, the tone had changed. That single word had been imbued with so much malice, so much authority.

Slowly, as if she had forgotten how, the wolf became a woman.

"But you are an exquisite creature."

Rayven averted her eyes; it had been a long time since she had felt this way-like a woman. Like a slave. She tried to speak, but her voice was hoarse, cracked from months without use. After clearing her throat, she tried again. "The rabbit is mine."

"This?" In one fluid motion, Lord Suffer snapped the animal's neck, discarded it. Rayven's eyes widened, she threw her arms up in exasperation. "Food like that is for animals, and while you are able to assume the shape of a beast, this is your true form. You should be eating more suitable food."

The Vampire motioned to the dining room where a long table was set for a banquet. As her eyes shimmered with reflected candlelight, Rayven salivated uncontrollably. She looked at him with mistrust.

"Eat your fill," he said. "There will be time to talk later."

#

A female voice announced that she had arrived at the two hundredth floor, snapping her back to the here and now.

When the doors parted it was not Skylar who greeted her, but Azrael. "Welcome home, my girl."

Rayven's heart melted the instant she saw him and suddenly all she wanted to do was fall at his feet and beg him to take her back. Instead she stepped out of the elevator and said curtly, "The last time I was here you warned that you would make a meal of me were I ever to return."

His gaze was heavy upon her, and she was suddenly very conscious of the collar around her neck. "As you know, it has never been easy for me to admit my mistake, but regret is a difficult burden to live with." As he spoke he circled her, lightly dragging carefully manicured nails across her cheek; her body erupted in goose bumps. Standing behind her, Azrael ran long, slender fingers through her straight black hair.

As her eyelids fluttered closed she caught sight of Skylar; she was watching. Instantly her eyes snapped open, she shrugged him away. "I am the property of Lord Suffer now."

"So I see," he said, tapping the padlock at the back of her collar. "That is corrected easily enough. What is not so easily corrected is the rift between you and I, but the gulf can be spanned." Azrael's strong hands ran up her back, over her shoulders, his breath was warm against her ear. She tried in vain to ignore the yearning in her soul; already her thighs glistened with her desire. She could hear his voice in her head, so familiar, so comfortable. "Give in to me."

So much like home.

All at once the years fell away; it was as though she never left. She was leaning back against his firm chest, it was warm and she distantly realized that he must have fed recently. And Skylar whom she had sworn to kill was massaging her firm breasts, and now she was pulling the shirt over Rayven's head. In Rayven's mind Azrael's voice came again. "Give in to me."

"Yes," she sighed in ecstasy. "Yes, my master."

With a twist of his wrist, Azrael snapped the lock and her collar fell to the floor. Rayven didn't notice-she was lost in a haze of lust. She gripped a handful of Skylar's blonde tresses as the slave teased her nipples with a playful tongue before kissing her way down her belly, tugging at her pants. The little Werewolf growled, awash in pleasure. Her master was drinking from her while thrusting deep inside. Her sister was on her knees, lapping at her clit as Rayven rolled her hips to her mouth.

Azrael climaxed twice before Rayven was allowed her release. When it hit, she gasped and quaked at the force of it. After it had passed, she fell into her master's arms, thoroughly spent.

Hugging his left arm, she kissed the bicep and whispered, "Thank you for taking me back, master."

"This is where you belong, girl. This is your home," he said.

Skylar kissed her on the cheek and said, "I'm glad you're back."

"I've got your old collar," said Azrael. "Would you like to wear it again?"

"Yes, master, more than anything in the world," Rayven replied.

"You will, pet, very soon. But first you must do something for me."

"Anything, master."

"Anything? I warn you, I mean to ask a great deal."

Turning to him, she sank to her knees all the while staring deep into his ice blue eyes. "Name your price, master. There is nothing that I would refuse you in order to be counted among your possessions again."

Azrael nodded. "While I am glad to have you home, the fact remains that you have spent the intervening years in the service of another. I am not comfortable so long as the possibility exists that your loyalties may be divided."

"I serve you only, master."

"So you say. Still, before you can wear your collar again, you must do this one task as proof of your devotion. You must murder Lord Suffer."

Rayven stiffened and her hesitation was proof enough to her that what Azrael said was true-her loyalties were divided.

This is my home, she told herself. This is my master. What he commands I must do.

Swallowing any sense of loyalty she felt for Suffer, Rayven said finally, "I will do as you command, my master, or I will die in the attempt."

Reaching down, Azrael tucked a stray lock of hair behind her ear. "We will eagerly await your return, pet. And, Sia, be a good girl and bring me his heart."

"As you wish, master."

#

It was three in the afternoon; the sun was warm against her fur as she ran, and she imagined that she was back in Azrael's arms.

#

Unsure when she would have her next meal, Rayven had eaten herself nauseous that winter night six years before. Lord Suffer never spoke a word; he merely steepled his fingers and observed.

When she could eat no more, she sat back in her chair, dangled her feet over one armrest. "What do you want from me?"

"Presently I want you to remove your feet from the furniture." His words were gracious, but that commanding tone was present again, resonating with power. Rayven was being scolded.

She complied, but remained defiant. "And now?"

"Nothing. You are free to go. Breakfast will be here at sunrise, lunch at noon, and dinner at sunset. The doors will be unlocked. Eat as much as you like."

"And you want nothing in return?"

The Vampire shook his head slowly.

#

It was with a keen sense of trepidation that Rayven approached Castle SuffeRing the next morning. She was driven by curiosity more than hunger. The front door was unlocked as promised and, as she opened it, she could smell the food.
Trading her lupine form for her Human one, she crept to the dining room where a place was set for her with more food that she could possibly eat. Lord Suffer was nowhere in evidence.

Rayven devoured her breakfast in solitude as she would her lunch and her supper. Weeks passed in this manner; the food was always there, but the Vampire was not, not even after the sun fell.
Then one day there was something extra at her place setting. Upon a golden plate there was a collar. It was made of thick black leather with stainless steel holes and a stainless steel buckle. In the middle there was a plate with the initials LS emblazoned in blood red.

This was not unexpected. She had wondered when he would try this ploy. She ate her food and left the collar untouched. And there it remained through lunch that day and supper that evening. It never moved so much as an inch over the course of the next two weeks. But each time she was confronted by it, Rayven found herself staring at it a bit harder, studying it a bit more closely until one night she carefully picked it up and placed it against her neck. The instant she felt it against her throat, she cast it aside and ran out.

The next morning the food was gone, but the collar had returned to its position on the plate. It was the same at lunch and at dinner and again the next day and the next. Finally, one evening she sat down and stared at it.

Picking it up she examined it. While the outside was smooth black leather, the inside was soft scarlet velvet. She nibbled her bottom lip for a long while.

"Alright!" she shouted. "Fine! I'll wear the damn thing!" And with that she put the collar around her throat, buckled it.

"Very good." Lord Suffer's voice came from the ether, from everywhere at once. Then he appeared in a circle of blue flame, clad in night. A coat, black as hate, spilled from his shoulders to the floor.
"So what do you want me to do?" she asked.
"I can see that your manners have suffered from lack of use. No matter, I am confident that they will return quickly enough. Tell me; what is your name, little wolf?"
"Sia."
The Vampire shook his head. "Not anymore. From now on you will be known as…Rayven. Come, there is food in the kitchen. Eat first then I will introduce you to your new home and instruct you on your duties.
"All right."
"I believe you mean 'Yes, master.'"
"Yea- Yes…master." It had been a long time since she had spoken those words and never had she spoken them to anyone but Azrael. In time they came to her lips more and more readily until it was second nature again.
After supper Lord Suffer took her through every room in the castle detailing her duties and responsibilities as well as the rules of the household. He explained to her that her primary function would be to serve as a guardian. She would watch over the castle and him while he slept away the daylight hours. Her keen Werewolf senses and enhanced physical strength made her ideal for the job.
Over the years she developed a profound respect for her new master, for the power he wielded not only over her, but over everyone he met. It made her proud to be his, to belong to such a feared Vampire. But she never allowed herself to love him.
Never to love him.
#
She pushed the thoughts out of her mind as she raced through the trees. She belonged to Azrael-she always had. She could serve but one master and she owed Suffer nothing. The whole of her loyalty belonged to her master. Her course was clear.
The castle was still as it always was during the day. She went upstairs to the circular master bedroom and stole inside where Suffer still slept. Outside the sun was still bright. Soon it would begin its descent so she had to be quick. She moved across the room to where the thick black curtains held back the sunlight, took a deep breath, ripped them open. As she tore the drapes down, the deadly rays flooded the room, which hadn't seen the light of day in centuries.
#
Lord Suffer woke to pain-excruciating, inescapable pain. A scream tore from his lungs and his eyes were assaulted by the brilliance of a star he hadn't beheld in five decades. His body was engulfed in flame.
Who? Who would dare? How had they gotten past Rayven?
But here was Rayven now. He would survive to take revenge.
Or not.
The look on her face told the story and her bare neck confirmed it. He had been betrayed. Baring his fangs, he howled his rage, but he was immobilized by the pain.
He was helpless as Rayven approached the bed, raised a knife, drove it into his stomach.
#
Rayven sliced his midsection open as he burned, reached in and grasped his unbeating heart. As she tugged it free, Suffer gripped her arm and she was burned. She pulled away easily, ripping his heart from his chest. The girl never looked back, just turned and bolted out the door, leaving the Vampire to his fate. As she ran out, she tore down every curtain she could find, filling the house with sunlight.
Just in case.
Only when she was outside did she look back. A column of black smoke was issuing from the bedroom window. She realized that she had been holding her breath the whole time. As she exhaled she felt all the tension leave her. Suffer was dead. She was free to be with her master again.
All was well.
#
Suffer could feel the life slipping from him, could feel his grasp on the world giving way. Summoning all his rage, all his hatred, he pushed away the pain and with Herculean effort rolled off the bed, drug himself to the safety of the shadow cast by the bedroom door. As he passed out of the light, the flames were extinguished. Curling up as tightly as he could, Suffer pulled the door against the wall, shutting out the light. He closed his eyes and relaxed, plotting a suitable revenge while his body healed.
Only his body wasn't healing. Hours passed, outside the sky was turning red and orange, but he was not healing. It seemed that he had been too late. The damage had already gone beyond his body's ability to rejuvenate. He would die cowering behind a door.
#
Rayven was giddy, grinning from ear to ear as she rode the elevator to her master's home. She had never noticed just how slow it was before now. Finally the digitized woman's voice announced that she had arrived and the doors slowly parted.
Skylar beamed when she saw Rayven, cocking her head inquisitively.
Rayven nodded emphatically.
"He's waiting for you in the study," said Skylar.
It was all Rayven could do to refrain from running to the study. Azrael was sitting behind a large wooden desk reading a book when Rayven came to stand before him, head bowed. Setting the book aside, he said, "I trust you were successful."
"Yes, master."
"And the proof?"
"Here, master." Falling to one knee, Rayven held Lord Suffer's heart above her head.
Smiling broadly, Azrael took the heart and devoured the muscle in two large bites, savoring every moment.
"Has she done well, master?" Skylar was standing in the doorway.
"Indeed, she has," said Azrael with a wicked gleam in his eye.
"I am ready to take your collar now, master," said Rayven. "I am ready to be yours again."
"Oh, yes. That." Azrael rose from his seat, placed both hands on the desk, leaned over it, chuckling in genuine amusement. "You stupid, stupid girl. That collar was the first thing I burned after I tossed you in the trash!"
The force of his words hit her like bullet through her heart. Suddenly she was having difficulty breathing, her chest heaved and her heart pounded. Shaking her head, she said, "No. No, that's not possible. You-you said…"
"I said what you needed to hear."
"You meant none of it?"
"Not a word."
And all at once, she felt it; she felt her heart break as she shrank away. "Why?" The question was barely audible as she choked back the sobs.
"There's that question again. Haven't you figured it out, yet? Because I feel like it. Because I can."
Rayven stumbled towards the door where Skylar was grinning that same smug grin she had seven years ago. She moved aside to allow Rayven to pass.
Azrael's taunts followed her into the living room. "Where will you go to, girl? No one wants you! The only one who did is dead at your own hand!"
Sobbing uncontrollably, Rayven pounded on the elevator button. "Come on damn it!" she screamed. Once inside, she sat in a corner, wrapped her arms around her shins and buried her face in her knees. Laughter erupted the moment she stepped out of the elevator car.
She killed all three guards.
Out into the night she went. Lost and utterly alone.
#
When he opened his eyes he was blinded by the radiant light in the room. At first he thought that he had slept through the night, then the door slammed shut, exposing him. But the light bathing his room was not from the sun and the Vampire was struck with utter disbelief.
He was staring at an Angel.
Certainly there had been some mistake. He had no illusions about going to heaven should he die.
As if she had plucked the thought from his mind, the Angel said, "You are not dead, Suffer. Not, yet."
"Have you come to finish me, then?"
"My name is Tena. I have come to give you a chance at redemption. Choose wisely, Suffer, you don't have much time left. Release your hatred, accept Him and He will accept you."
Never. It was impossible. Hatred was who he was; it permeated the very fiber of his being. He laughed a cold, humorless laugh. "So after all these years after all this pain, God wants to redeem me? Wants me to grovel and beg forgiveness for my sins? I think not. Indeed, its He who owes me an apology, an explanation for all that He has taken from me! No. I have a better idea."
In an impossible display of resolve, Lord Suffer launched himself at the Angel, caught her, and sunk his teeth deep into her veins. The Angel shrieked, struggling against his grasp, against the unspeakable violation, but as he drank from her, Suffer grew stronger while she grew weaker.
With a howl he released her. "It burns!" His body was awash in new pain worse than before.
Tena panted. "Foolish. That was foolish, Vampire. Do you think that you can drink the blood of a being of pure good with no ill effect? You would be better served trying to drink the sun!"
But as the pain subsided, Suffer felt energized. His body repaired itself before his very eyes; in a matter of seconds it looked as though he had never been burned. And there was more. An energy coursed through his veins, a power he had not known before. Tossing his head back, Suffer roared.
Turning to the Angel, Suffer said, "You are mine, now."
"Never."
"You have been kissed. Even now I can feel the bond forming. Can you deny it?"
Tena was silent. It was all she could do. It was impossible for her to lie. She too was beginning to feel a new sensation. Hatred.
Four long strides carried the Vampire Lord to the enormous closet that dominated the interior wall of the bedroom; he dressed quickly. Pulling his full length black leather coat over his shoulders, Suffer growled. "Come. I've got killing to do."
"You needn't bother," said the Angel. "The one you seek is coming here."
Lord Suffer looked at her through smoldering red slits. "You lie," he accused.
"You know that I am incapable of it. For what it is worth, she's sorry."
#
It was with a heavy heart that Rayven returned to Castle SuffeRing; shame dogged her every step. As she stood in front of the twin doors she was convicted by the memory of the elation she felt in that spot just a few short hours ago.
The corridors of the castle were bathed in cool moonlight; the drapes she had pulled down as she fled still littered the floor. To her left was the dining room where years ago a starving Werewolf had enjoyed her first real meal in months. Before her, the grand staircase twisted into shadow. Even now she could detect the scent of charred flesh. The stench grew stronger with each step. Finally, she stood in the door of the master bedroom. Upon the stepped dais, the huge bed sported a gaping cavity charred black. Beyond it, the wind drifted through the shattered windows and balcony doors.
"Have you come seeking another souvenir?" The voice came from behind. Spinning, she was confronted by a man twice dead. The Vampire was silhouetted by moonlight so that only his molten red eyes were visible. His presence was horrifying; the menace emanating from him was almost tangible. The weight of his gaze was unbearable; she fell to the floor with a whimper.
"Mercy, Lord! This foolish girl begs you to kill her quickly!"
The Vampire growled deep in his throat and the terrified slave felt warm fluid run down her thigh. "What do I know of mercy? Who sent you to assassinate me?"
Shaking, Rayven could only manage the barest whimper.
"Who?"
"Lord Azrael!" She shrieked. "He tricked this stupid girl with his promises and kind words. He…he broke her heart!"
"Your old master? So all these years have been a sham? An elaborate murder plot?"
"No, Lord, you must believe me!" Rayven wrapped her arms around his right leg, clinging to him. "He sent his girl to the castle just this morning. She said that Azrael wanted me back. I didn't know! I didn't know!"
"She speaks the truth." Rayven didn't recognize the female voice, didn't know anyone else was present; still she dared not look up.
Kicking the slave away, Lord Suffer reached down, wrapped her hair around his fist, lifted her off her feet so that her eyes were level with his. "You will not die tonight, little traitor, but you will wish you had."
#
As she stood with Suffer outside the castle under the glimmering stars, Tena wiped a rogue tear from her cheek. What she had just witnessed…what he had done to that girl…
"Your cruelty is unparalleled in the history of creation," she said.
Suffer didn't respond, his focus was on the twinkling lights of the city.
"I suppose you are going to Shadow Keep," said Tena.
"Yes," he said, "we are going to Shadow Keep."
"I will not go. I refuse to be party to your vengeance."
"You will go because I command it. With each passing minute the influence of my bite grows stronger, and my control over you strengthens. You are helpless to stop it."
It was true. Even now she could feel her will slipping away in the face of his. The very fact that she had unconsciously followed him outside was testament.
"Can you still fly with those?" asked Suffer, indicating the wings folded against her back.
"Yes."
"Then follow." Lord Suffer took a step then leapt, assuming the form of a large bat.
Spreading her wings, Tena took flight.
#
By the time Azrael sensed the presence it was too late. He was in the bedroom; Skylar was laying nude on the bed spread eagle, moaning in wanton lust as he fed from her inner thigh when the Angel materialized. Azrael raised his arm to defend against the brilliance of her Heavenly splendor. In all her Angelic fury she was terrible to behold.
"Woe to you, Lord Azrael. My Lord Suffer bids me deliver this message to you. He has survived your assassin. There is no shelter for you. No asylum. No refuge you can seek to escape his wrath. You will die this night." Her message delivered, the Angel faded away.
Gripped by terror, Skylar threw her arms around her master's neck. "Was that…?"
Azrael nodded solemnly, turning his arm over to inspect the places where the Angel's light had burned him.
"But what she said-that's impossible! You ate his heart!"
"Vampires have no more use for a heart than you have for an appendix. Somehow Suffer survived and now he's hunting me."
"Then you will do what Sia could not."
Azrael shook his head. "No. Angels cannot lie."
"Then we must leave, master!"
"It's too late."
The window, which formed the outer wall, exploded in a shower of glass. As a violent wind swept through the room, Lord Suffer stood before them. With a scream, Skylar scurried under the bed and cowered.
Azrael turned and faced his doom. "It matters little. In the end, the intent was to destroy the girl."
"The girl will live long after your name has been forgotten," Suffer replied.
The indignity was more than Azrael could bear, the idea that he should die while the slave lived enraged him. With a snarl on his lips he charged. Lord Suffer raised a hand and Azrael was struck by a concussive force that sent him crashing through the bedroom door, over the railing. Then the Vampire fell two storeys to the living room floor. And Suffer was upon him, as though he had been there waiting, like there were two of him.
"My family will hunt you," said Azrael weakly as Suffer bore him up by one hand.
"And I will send them to join you in Hell."
With Azrael screaming curses, Lord Suffer drank every drop of his life blood until he quieted and died. Then he tossed the empty carcass into the blazing fireplace.
As the flames spread to the living room, Suffer ascended the stairs, went into the bedroom, lifted the bed where the slave still hid…
#
Even from the SuffeRing the wail of sirens was audible as fire engines rushed to quell the conflagration that had engulfed Shadow Keep. Suffer could see the crimson lights flashing in the night.
Tena followed at his heel as he entered his home. There Rayven still hung from a cross suspended in the air. Three silver spikes hammered through her wrists and ankles held her firmly in place. Tena turned away from the blasphemy, pretended not to hear Rayven's moans.
"Your master is dead," said Suffer.
"I know," said Rayven softly. "You don't know how to fail."
"Your betrayal is evidence to the contrary."
Rayven opened her mouth to speak but said nothing.
Crossing over to his office, he was aware of her the moment he crossed the threshold. "Greetings, Domina."
"Hello, darling," she said as the candles in the room sprang to life. Lady Shadow , his creator, sat in his chair behind his desk, her corn silk hair cascading over one shoulder. Here was his creator, the woman upon whose breast he had suckled blood throughout the night between his death and rebirth. "I saw your girl. You really mustn't play so roughly with your toys; they'll never last."
"What brings you, Domina?"
"You do, my child. In your distress, you called to me and I came as quickly as I could. Now tell me, what has happened here?"
As Lord Suffer related the details of the past several hours, Shadow listened quietly, but he could sense her anger building. She showed surprise and pride upon hearing about Tena, frustration that she had not been the one to slaughter Azrael, but agreed that it was best that he had died at Suffer's hand. What she could not understand was why Rayven had been allowed to live. "I'll kill her myself."
"Domina, this is my affair. I ask that you allow me to handle it as I see fit."
"As you will, darling. You always were the most willful of my progeny. Where is this Angel of yours? I wish to see her."
Closing his eyes, Suffer sent a mental summons. "She is coming."
#
Tena lighted upon the tallest of the castle's spires, staring up to the stars, tears streaming down her cheeks. Pray and pray as she might, she could not hear His voice for the first time since before the dawn of Creation. She took flight, soaring as high as she was able, but without His voice to guide her, she could not find her way home. She was stranded, enslaved to the will of a monster.
"Why have I been forsaken?" she screamed. In her heart she knew there was a purpose, a divine scheme behind all of it, but the knowledge brought no comfort. Slowly she drifted back to earth.
She was being summoned.
Upon her arrival at his office, Tena walked directly to Lord Suffer. "You summoned me, my Lord?"
"There is someone here who would like to meet you," he said. "This is-"
"-Lady Shadow ," Tena finished.
Shadow was bemused. "You've heard of me."
"I'm an Angel. I know everyone."
"And precocious I see. If you know me then you know that you had better learn some manners, girl."
Tena's aura intensified until it outshone the candles. "In all of Creation I heed only the voice of my Lord Suffer. Beyond that I hearken to no will under Heaven other than my own, least of all yours, Angel's Bane!"
"Temper yourself…now." Lord Suffer's voice was like rolling thunder in her ear.
At his command, the Angel's aura dimmed until it was a small blue glow outlining her body shot through now and again with red sparks.
"Angel's Bane," said Shadow. "Now there is a name I have not heard in a century. I've lost count of the hosts I have slain over the years."
"Seven," Tena spat.
"If you're not careful I will make you my eighth."
"Or perhaps you will be my one hundred fifty second dead Vampire, Lady."
That remark earned her a backhanded blow that sent her sailing across the room, slamming into a bookshelf.
Shadow tossed her head back and laughed, genuinely amused. "You have an eclectic taste in slaves, darling. I can see that you will have your hands full for quite some time." Rising to her feet, she looked to where Tena was picking herself up from a pile of books. "But they are well suited to you. Walk me to the door. I wish to speak with you in private."
"Of course, Domina."
As they stood at the front door Shadow said, "You should not have drank from the Angel; it is forbidden. No Vampire who has done so has lived. I don't know how you survived, but I fear it was at a cost. Already I sense a change in you, and I have no doubt that it is due to the Angel's blood."
"I have not changed, Domina," he said.
Shadow looked up at Rayven, hanging from the cross. "So you say, yet she still lives. I will leave you to your affairs, my child. Be well."
"And you, Lady."
Reaching up, she took his chin, pulled him into a bloody kiss. When their lips parted, her blood trickled down the corner of his mouth.

After she had gone, Lord Suffer walked over and released the rope from which the cross was suspended; it flipped once and landed with a loud clap. Rayven stared unseeing up at the ceiling. One by one, Suffer tore out the silver nails. Each spike that he removed elicited a strangled cry. He lifted her limp body, tossed it over his shoulder. Stopping by the office where Tena waited, he said, "Come with me."

"Where are we going?" she wanted to know.

"To the ShadowBox."
#
The ShadowBox was a torture chamber that lay beneath the castle. True to its name it was steeped in shadow. Here and there dancing torchlight gave a glimpse of some diabolical torture device.

Suffer deposited Rayven on an examining table.
"You first," he said, speaking to Tena. "You are my property now; it's time you were marked as such." He held out his hands, and as he spread them apart a black band materialized out of thin air. Recognizing the collar, Tena tried to shrink away, but Suffer willed her to stay still.
Thus the Angel was collared to the Vampire Lord.
"And now it's your turn, little liar. For you something a little more elaborate."
As she watched his eyes turn red, Rayven mouthed the word "Mercy" From the fire he pulled a silver rod; the letters 'LS' glowed red hot at its tip. He rolled her over onto her stomach, pressed the glowing letters to the golden flesh between her shoulder blades. If she had lost her voice before, she found it now. The stone walls sang with her screams. "This should serve as a lasting reminder to you. The silver will ensure that the wound never heals. You belong to me." Still Rayven was fitted with a collar as well. The slave's collars were identical to Rayven's former one save that these were all one piece. No buckle. No lock. "Do you understand, little wolf?"
Rayven's voice was barely a whisper when she said, "Si, amo."
He swung around to Tena. "And you?"
"I understand, my Lord," she said.
"Master. I am your master and you will address me as such."
"No! You are my Lord, but you are not my master!"
Suffer nodded slowly. "I see. I see."
Tena didn't need to read his mind to know what he was thinking. "No. No."
The blow came from nowhere, knocked her flat. "Your submission will be secured in spite of you," he spat.
She kicked and screamed as he dragged her into the shadows. He never willed her to hold still, he let her fight and every blow she landed earned her two. The two embroidered strips of silk hanging from her hips offered no defense.
He raped her at will.
Each time he emptied his seed inside her he demanded, "Who is your master?"
"No one!" she cried. "I have no master! It's the truth; I will not, cannot lie to you!"
"Then I shall make it the truth."
Too weak to move, Rayven could only lay in the dark and listen to the screams, happy at least that they were not her own. Yet, inexplicably, she began to feel jealous.
He must have raped her over two dozen times that night. Over and over she cried, "I have no master!" All the while he continued to assault her defenses, assailing her barriers until they were toppled and crumbled to dust. Exposed and hopelessly weakened by the Vampire's bite, Tena's will was supplanted by Suffer's own. Finally, bloody and exhausted, Tena stopped fighting; she couldn't lift so much as a finger.
"I have a master," she said at last. "And you are he." Then she turned her face away and added, "I hate you."
"You don't have to love me, Angel, just obey me."
#
Days turned into weeks. The master bedroom was repaired. Rayven spent the majority of her days chained to the bed while Tena took up the task of guarding the house during the day. The only way Rayven was permitted to leave the bedroom was at the end of a leash. Eventually she was allowed to wander alone and then only within the castle. With each passing day she grew more withdrawn, more listless. She had never understood the value of trust before. Now she knew that it was the foundation of any real bond. Before respect, before love there had to be trust. She had lost his and would never regain it. Her guilt, her shame would all be bearable if she knew that one day things would be back to the way they once were, but she had lost hope. All she had to look forward to was an eternity of pain.
#
Lord Suffer was in his study reading one evening. Tena stood beside his chair while Rayven in wolf form curled into a corner. After a while she got up and padded out.
"You know she is sorry," said Tena. "Even with the small taste of my blood you had I know you can sense her remorse. How long will you allow yourself to suffer just to punish her…master?"
Suffer closed the book but remained silent.
"They say if your slave respects you she will walk through fire for you, but if she loves you she will dance in the flames. Master, if you let her, she will be your flame dancer."
The Vampire just nodded, which was more than Tena expected. Shifting to wolf form, he stalked out.
#
He found Rayven lying in a swath of moonlight that spilled in from a tall casement in the corridor. Seeing him approach, she got to her feet, started to leave, but a growl from him warned her to stay. As he drew close to her, his proximity made her heart ache all the more. She barked, snapping at him. He snapped back, circling her. He stepped in and they tangled, snarling and biting. Finally, he seized the back of her neck in his powerful jaws, forced her head to the floor, held it there while he circled behind her. All the while she snarled and struggled, but as he penetrated her, she lost her will to fight. And as he filled her with his semen, she found hope.
Back on two legs, Suffer said, "When you are ready, join me in the ShadowBox. I have a surprise for you."
#
As she descended the stairs into the ShadowBox, she could make out muffled whimpering coming from below. Her preternatural eyesight penetrated the darkness easily. Her amo (it felt so good to say that again) was holding a woman by the back of her throat while her legs kicked helplessly. The scene reminded her of that first night in the woods. It must have reminded him of it as well because he said, "This time you may have the rabbit," as he dropped the woman and walked past her on his way out the door. "I'll just leave you two alone."
The door shut and Rayven turned to the woman whom she could see but who could not see her. The woman whom she recognized. "Hello, Skylar. It's been a while."
#
Tena sought refuge atop a spire, looked out over the galaxy of neon below. She had hatred on her mind and in her heart. As an Angel she had never known the emotion, she was born of love, into love. To hate was to go against her being. Yet she did hate. She hated him. Hated him because she couldn't hear the voice of her God. Hated him for enslaving her.

And she loved him. No matter what, he was still God's creation. But how could she hate and love him at the same time? The conflicting emotions tore her apart. Bowing her head, she prayed.
#
That day Rayven slept as a woman. Unfettered, she pressed her body to his. It was cold, but she thought that perhaps she was warm enough for both of them.
The End