Disclaimer: this is a work for fiction intended for adults. Please be aware of the differences between fiction and real life, and always practice safety and informed consent. This work cannot be reposted or reproduced without author permission. Copyright © Prospero Nox 2021.
Who Enthralls the Enthrallers
CHAPTER 1
Patience pulled up to employee parking lot H, maneuvering the stolen car easily through the permit reader. Though she’d been born, like Regulus, before electronics, unlike her mate she preferred to understand human technologies. Especially since the humans had invented mirror-scans and UV-lights and other nasty weapons against her kind. A vampire had to get wise or get dead.
Regulus had finally found a way to turn the tide back in the vampires’ favor, but Patience’s efforts to copy his success had run into a complicated snag... Which was why she was risking this trip to the bustling city hospital, seeking expert assistance.
Parking lots were usually ripe with anti-vampire tech, but two burnt-out UV lamps gave her a safe corner to park. She stopped the engine, quickly changed into blue scrubs—stolen, like the car—and opened the passenger door.
Her passenger slumbered quietly, slumped against the seatbelt. She didn’t stir as Patience picked her up; her head just lolled sideways, exposing her sweet-scented neck.
She looked so scrumptious, pliant and limp like a ragdoll. Patience loved relaxing her thralls into deep slumber, then bringing them back, dazed and needful, to beg for her touch as she fed on them...
...except feeding on this one might kill her.
Focus , Patience scolded herself, and she crossed the lot to the service ramp at the far end. She jogged along the dank, descending tunnel to a dingy door marked MORGUE 1, then kicked it open to enter a gray, empty corridor.
The human in her arms still hadn’t stirred. She might’ve been clever, but she couldn’t resist a vampire’s command to slumber any more than others of her kind.
Patience set her on one of the gurneys by the wall, then wheeled her down the hallway until she found the entrance to the morgue. There, she halted, senses seeking the one she knew waited beyond the double doors. For a moment, she felt nothing; then a powerful presence bloomed around her, and a deep voice rang in her head.
“Come in, dear. Exam Room 2.”
Patience took a moment to master her nerves, before wheeling the gurney through the double doors.
The coroner waited by an empty autopsy table. She was tall, with dark hair cropped below her jaw and eyes liquid as fresh tar. Her skin was a shade browner than the tan scrubs under her labcoat. And her smile...the small quirk at the corners of her mouth held the promise of more knowledge than all Regulus’s libraries.
“Old One.” Patience bowed. “Thank you for allowing me to visit.”
“You’re always welcome,” said the old vampire. “And I’ve told you to call me Helen. I trust all is well with you and your beloved?”
“Uhh...” Patience tried to recover her wits. Each time she met the Old One, she felt tongue-tied as a shy child. “Regulus has unlocked the mind-mirroring ritual,” she said, at last.
She’d expected a reaction, but the Old One simply nodded. “You two must be pleased.”
“Yes. I’m trying to replicate his method, but...” Patience grimaced. “I found the right human—strong-willed and cunning, and I believe she’ll make the perfect vessel for the ritual. Only... I’m ashamed to say she outsmarted me.”
She motioned to the gurney and her slumbering prey.
“She set some sort of trap in her own body. Poison, most likely. I sensed her eagerness to activate it and destroy me, so I knocked her out...” She sighed. “But I fear if I let her wake, she’ll spring the trap before I can fully enthrall her. She knows our powers, so she’d have made it easy to activate.”
“A troublesome human. You might find another for the ritual and spare yourself the effort.”
“This one...feels right,” said Patience. “She gave me a good hunt. We have a rapport. Regulus says choosing the right thrall and forming a deep bond with them is key to the ritual’s success...”
“Ah. So you wish her unharmed—and unharmful —to try the ritual.” The Old One hummed. “I can at least help you find out what she did to herself.”
She took a step toward the gurney, and Patience twitched.
“Careful!” She winced at the Old One’s arched eyebrow. “Forgive me—I don’t wish her trap to harm you.”
The old vampire chuckled. “Rest easy.” Her timeless gaze fixed on the sleeping woman, and a whisper of her power brushed past Patience.
Abruptly, the human’s eyes opened, rolled so far back into her head only the whites were visible. She sat up on the gurney in a swift move. Patience tensed, ready to throw herself at the Old One to protect her; but the human just sat rigidly, white eyes staring outward.
Then she spoke, so suddenly Patience jumped.
“Ten poison capsules. Inserted in thin rods along my finger joints.”
The Old One noticed Patience’s reaction. “Ah, apologies. I will question her out loud.” She gazed back to the woman. “How will the poison work?”
“Clenching my fists will break the capsules and release the poison into my blood.” The woman’s voice was toneless. “It will turn to gaseous form and be released as I exhale. A minute’s exposure should be fatal to any vampire in a twenty foot radius.”
Patience growled quietly. The things humans invented.
The Old One asked more questions. The human had a similar capsule atop one tooth—in case her hands became restrained—and a third triggered by squeezing her pelvic muscles.
“She knows we use arousal,” murmured Patience. “So clever.”
“She’ll make you an entertaining thrall,” said the Old One. “Fortunately, all her measures can be undone.”
She reached for her instrument box. With a small scalpel, she removed ten delicate filaments from the woman’s fingers, kissing each incision wound to heal it. The woman sat motionless, eyes still rolled into her head, until, given no perceptible command, she tipped her head back and opened her mouth. The Old One removed the capsule atop her tooth.
Patience watched with undisguised awe. She’d never seen a vampire control a mind so flawlessly, wordlessly and with no discernible effort. It was...magnificent.
At last, the Old One reached under the thrall’s dress, between her legs, and pulled out the last poison capsule. “She’s harmless now. You may wake her and see.”
Patience murmured her admiring gratitude, then turned to her thrall, who still sat, rigid and blank, on the gurney.
“Wake,” Patience commanded, and she steadied the woman as the Old One’s power released her and she slumped forward. “Gently, my pet.”
The thrall moaned. Large, unfocussed blue eyes met Patience’s, widening with the delicious fear of prey seeing predator. The woman began to thrash in mindless panic, but under Patience’s gaze, her body was already slackening, softening...
Awareness returned abruptly to her eyes—and she clenched both fists.
Patience laughed. “We removed your little traps, pet.” She grinned as the woman gritted her teeth. ” All your traps. Steady, now. Quit struggling.”
The woman gasped fearfully as her body obeyed against her will. Her arms fell limp to her side, fists unclenching.
“You’re strong,” murmured Patience. “But even the strongest humans yield to us easily as sandcastles to the ocean. Shh.” She lay her thrall back down on the gurney. “Nothing you can do now, pet. Just sleep again for me, and dream of surrender. That’s it. Sleep deeper. Dream of all the ways you want to become mine. I’ll have you tell them to me, later...”
She caught the Old One’s look and winced, suddenly self-conscious.
“This must look clumsy to you,” she murmured. “I’ve never mastered the subtler control. I can manage slumber and arousal, but the rest...” She frowned, then turned, hesitatingly, to the Old One. “Can you...enthrall minds that aren’t human?”
The Old One smiled. “I believe you’re the first to ask me that without terror. Yes: I can achieve some measure of influence on most minds. But you needn’t worry I ever influenced yours.”
“I’d never worry,” said Patience honestly, and the old vampire chuckled.
“As I said, dear one—you’re unusual in your attitude. Most of our kind would as soon run the other way as seek me out.”
A foolish fear, thought Patience. The Old One was so ancient, her power so vast and removed from any other vampire’s, that fearing her seemed...pointless. Like fearing the weather, or the sun.
“Could you...” Patience bit her lips. “Would you enthrall my mind? Just briefly,” she hurried to explain. “For the ritual. I must learn to delve deeper, to own a mind fully. I’ve never seen anyone do that as easily as you. I think...if I could experience it from the other end, I might better understand how to do it, myself.”
“Ah.” The Old One regarded her thoughtfully, then nodded. “If you wish.”
Before Patience understood her request had been so summarily granted, the vast power brushed past her again—except this time, much more closely, tingling warmly along her skin.
“Sit,” said the Old One.
Patience sat.
She didn’t know where she was sitting. The floor, probably. It had been too important to sit immediately, and she hadn’t bothered with details.
The Old One chuckled. She was amused, so Patience became amused, too, smiling broadly.
“I’m afraid your thralls won’t be as eager and enthusiastic about this as you are.” The Old One pulled a chair from the wall and set it next to Patience. “You have none of the fear and resistance they’ll likely feel...Still, I hope the experience is of some use to you. Sit in the chair, please—the floor is dusty.”
Patience found herself in the chair with no notion of how she’d gotten there. The Old One smiled again, and Patience beamed back, ecstatic to have pleased her.
“How do you feel?” asked the old vampire, and Patience let out an eager gasp.
“Wonderful. This is...I feel like nothing bad could ever happen. I’m so happy. And I just want to please you.”
“Did you trust me and want to please me before I touched your mind?”
“Yes,” blurted Patience, giggling as the Old One chuckled again.
“Being enthralled isn’t far removed from genuine admiration and respect. Those emotions, too, engender a desire to please. Our control merely enhances the emotions, and the desire.”
Patience listened, each word etching itself in her mind. The Old One was right, of course. Being enthralled felt like drowning in admiration and love and the desire to please her...
...oh, she was so beautiful. So regal in her bearing, and her tall, lithe body so hot, and her skin was luminous and flawless and—
“My. And you wonder that I always welcome your visits, dear.”
Patience giggled again.
“I think I can help you mimic some of the resistance and fear your thralls might experience,” said the Old One. “Tell me, how badly do you want the mind-mirroring to succeed?”
“So badly,” Patience gasped. “We’ve been trying for years. I’ve seen it work for Regulus, and it seems wonderful. And it would help us against the humans’ tricks, usher in a new age for our people—”
“And if you had to swear an oath that you’ll cease all efforts to accomplish this ritual? That you’ll never try or have anything to do with mind-mirroring—would you like that?”
“No!” cried Patience. “No. Please, don’t make me do this. I beg of you—please don’t take that from me—”
“Don’t be distressed, dear one,” said the old vampire, and Patience’s fear evaporated. “You can trust me.”
Patience exhaled, shoulders slumping in relief. “Of course.” She smiled. “You’d never make me swear such an oath.”
“Oh, I will. But you’ll feel happy about it. Hush .”
The command quelled Patience instantly, leaving her to stare in entreating silence.
“I won’t hurt you,” said the Old One gently, and she crouched before Patience’s chair so their eyes were level.
All thoughts fled Patience’s mind. She wanted only to keep staring into those beautiful, starry-night eyes...
“Do you trust me?” asked the Old One.
“Yes,” Patience gasped.
“And you wish to please me?”
“Yes.” She barely knew what she was agreeing to, anymore. A trace of unease still clawed at her, but only distantly. She couldn’t remember what had worried her.
“And even if you didn’t wish to please me, my power would make you obey, wouldn’t it?”
“Yes.”
“I’m going to have you swear that oath now,” said the Old One. “Do you remember the oath?”
“No...” The Old One had touched her cheek, and all Patience could think, all she could remember, was how warm the touch was, and how wonderful, and how much she wanted it to continue forever...
“It’s the oath to give up your dream of accomplishing the mind-mirroring ritual,” the Old One told her. “An oath to bind you for life. Remember it for me.”
“Okay.” Patience remembered now.
“You know how much you want the ritual to succeed? What it means to you?”
“Yes.”
“I want you to give all that up now.” The Old One caressed her cheek, and Patience closed her eyes and moaned. Yes. She’d give it up. She’d give up everything. She’d do anything the Old One wanted, anything at all, forever...
“And you’ll be happy about it,” added the Old One, and Patience gave only a strangled mewl, because she was too happy to speak, too deliriously happy to give the Old One anything, everything , all she was, all she dreamed of, all she knew and remembered and—
“Alright, dear, I’m going to pull back my power now. It’ll feel a little uncomfortable; but you’ll be fine in a minute.”
Patience just mumbled obedient assent, too hazy to understand the words. By the time she’d realized what was happening, the vast, all-encapsulating power that wrapped her vanished abruptly. It felt as though someone had yanked off her skin and thrown her, raw and bleeding, on a bed of salt.
She screamed.
At some point, she became aware of arms around her.
“It’s alright,” the Old One murmured.
Patience gave a pained gasp and clung harder to the strong arms. She was curled on the floor, she realized. The Old One knelt beside her, Patience’s head on her lap.
“My dear one, you were too trusting of me. You welcomed my touch too gladly—and I didn’t realize it would bring you such pain to part from it.”
Patience yowled. She wanted nothing more than to feel that power around her mind once more. She’d have gladly given herself up to be the Old One’s willing thrall, if it meant she’d no longer feel the endless, gut-wrenching pain of loss...
She moaned pitifully and curled tighter around herself, while the Old One caressed her sweat-matted hair.
She didn’t know how long she lay there sobbing and trembling—only that at some point, the pain lessened, and she could think again. She hadn’t hurt this much since her turning. She hadn’t known she could hurt so anymore...
“I don’t understand,” she whispered dazedly, accepting the Old One’s help to sit up. “It didn’t...feel this way, when Regulus turned me. I don’t remember hurting like this...I never...”
Too late, she realized her mistake. She fell silent, praying the Old One hadn’t noticed...
But of course, she had.
The old vampire pulled Patience gently to her feet and sat her in the chair, then touched her shoulder.
“Your beloved is the one who turned you?”
Patience winced. Damn her thoughtless slip!
“Our kind may not take for lover one we have turned.” Something in the Old One’s voice had changed; become colder. “It is our law.”
Patience breathed out. “I know. We...loved each other. We broke the law.” She wondered at feeling so calm when likely she was about to die. “It was my fault. I refused to leave, and Regulus couldn’t make himself force me. I alone bear the blame, and I deserve the punishment.”
“Oh?” The Old One’s inky eyes bore into hers. “The law is for the maker, not those newly made who have no choice. The crime is of the maker, too.”
“No!” Patience shot to her feet. “Please, don’t punish him. He didn’t want to let me stay. I coaxed him into it. I—”
“I won’t punish anyone without fully understanding the situation,” said the Old One. “But I must think on this. For now, I ask that you not share this conversation with your maker.”
Patience nodded.
“If he tries to force you to tell him, you will draw on my power to prevent it.”
“He wouldn’t,” murmured Patience.
“Nevertheless. In fact—draw on my power if he tries to impose his will on you in any way you dislike.”
Patience smiled. “As you wish, Old One.”
“And return to see me soon, please. I wish to monitor this situation.” She gave Patience a long look. “Has this made you fear me, at last? Will you be reluctant to return?”
Patience thought about it. Her body and mind still reeled, the pain racking her nerves having only subsided, not vanished. And she’d stupidly endangered herself and Regulus, blurting out their crime to one powerful enough to kill them with a thought.
But to fear the Old One...?
“No,” she said quietly. “Never. A little pain is nothing compared to the privilege of knowing you.”
“You’re truly an unusual one,” murmured the old vampire. “Come: I shall accompany you to your car. I wish to see you safely on your way.”
Patience nodded and followed her silently.