She connected the manacles to the eylet than hauled her husband's corpse up, latching each manacle to his wrists. He would dangle there, helpless, facing the bedroom window. Exactly the way her Sire commanded.
Abigail locked the manacles with the key then hesitated.
I love him. A shiver ran through the vampiress.
Abigail set the silver key on the nightstand before dragging the piece of furniture back where it belonged. She replaced the lamp on it, adjusting the shade so it was neat again.
Finished, Abigail texted the vampire that raped and killed her.
Aurora pulled away from Abigail.
"Did it work?" she asked Gideon.
"Too soon to know," Gideon answered. "But you reached her. Did you see the way she shivered. And she left the key on the nightstand. But you need to do more before the intervention ends."
Aurora nodded and reached out to touch the vampiress's foul body. He deserves to know what happened. There is paper in the nightstand. Write it.
Abigail shuddered as the Angel embraced her. The vampiress looked around, her eyes narrowed. She hissed as her skin burned beneath the Holy touch of the angel. Abigail leaped away, landing on the bed in a crouch, her eyes scanning.
"Who is here?"
Aurora pulled away. "Her senses are too well trained," the Angel lamented. "She detected my touch."
"It may have been enough," Gideon said. "Her Sire will not arrive for twenty-three minutes. There is time for her to be a little rebellious. She has the spirit. Look at the way she stares at Damien. She has some of her emotions left despite her Sire's control on her thoughts. She laments the pain her husband is about to experience."
Aurora moved to Damien. "I am sorry." She touched the corpse. Already, the dark energy gathered inside of his body. It would extend to his every cell and rebuild him into an agent of darkness. "We failed to save you and your wife from this fate."
A tear fell from Aurora's eye and landed on Damien. It smoked, leaving behind a tiny teardrop branded into his neck.
Damien dreamed as his soul was transformed. Death had not released his spirit like it should have. His wife's cursed embraced kept him locked in his dead body. He was shackled into his flesh as the darkness consumed him. Flashes of Abigail burned through his mind.
She fought with a vampire in the cafeteria of his school. Her first shot with the crossbow missed as the handsome vampire, dressed in a black suit and red tie, leaped through the shadows, appearing behind her. Abigail spun and threw a vial of holy water, but the vampire caught it and slammed it to the floor, spilling the blessed water across the vinyl tiles.
Abigail was overpowered and stripped. The vampire took her hard as he feasted on her flesh. Caught up in the rapture of his mouth sucking at her throat, she came on his cock before the last beat of her heart carried her into undeath.
When she awoke, her Sire had instructions for her. She texted Damien, lulling him into false security as she returned to their home to prepare her trap. Damien's soul howled as the darkness bled into him.
And then the hunger arose.
In his dark dreams, Damien's mouth watered for blood. As his body was reborn into unlife, the coppery scent of his own blood, still staining the now cold water of the bathtub, tickled his nose. He yearned to feel the hot pulse of a human's artery beneath his lips right before he sank his fangs in and drank the glorious life.
The drive suffused his body. His heart beat again, pumping not only blood but also dark ichor through his veins. As the hunger swelled, his muscles were changed by the ichor. It suffused his body and mind, strengthening his body and enhancing his reflexes.
His eyes would be able to see in total darkness. His hearing would pick up the faintest sounds. It might take him a decade or more to fully grasp all the nuanced variety of his enhanced senses. His nose grew keener, smelling not just his blood, but the scent of his wife's excitement, the tang of the metal binding his wrists, the Chanel perfume lingering on his wife's body, the dust in the air, the wax of the burned out candles, the fibers of the carpet, and more. His hearing picked up the sounds of the neighborhood outside the house. Cars passed on the street. Dogs barked. Birds sang. A lawnmower whined. People walked, their footsteps slapping on concrete, asphalt and grass.
Hearts beat, pumping warm blood.
A woman talked, laughing gaily—Britney Lawson. Eighteen, nubile, and busty. The neighbors daughter spoke with her mother as they washed their dog in the backyard. He had found a skunk and now they slathered him in tomato sauce.
Damien's mind grew sharper. More than just his hunger filled his thoughts. Abigail dominated them. His Dam, the vampire who turned him. She weighed on his mind, her words echoing in his thoughts.
Obey...
Her voice was a whip cracking against his will.
Obey...
Images of their life flashed through Damien. The way she stood stunned over Vincent after Damien had bashed the vampire's head into pulp, their two friends lying dead around them in their High School's cafeteria. How her hair burned like fire across her wedding dress a year later while her face lay hidden behind the veil.
Obey...
Her words were lace binding his thoughts, channeling them towards her.
Obey me, Damien...