Eden’s Hell
Dawné Dominique
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This is a work of fiction. Names, places, characters, and events are fictitious in every regard. Any similarities to actual events and persons, living or dead, is purely coincidental. Any trademarks, service marks, product names, or named features are assumed to be the property of their respective owners, and are used only for reference. There is no implied endorsement if any of these terms are used.
EDEN’S HELL
Copyright © 2009 Dawné Dominique. All rights reserved worldwide.
ISBN No. 978-1-936165-20-9
Cover Art Designed By Dawné Dominique
Edited By Traci Markou
Published by Purple Sword Publications, LLC, Smashwords Edition
www.PurpleSword.com
Except for review purposes, the reproduction of this book in whole or part, electronically or mechanically, constitutes a copyright violation.
In the beginning…
God created man and called him Adam, a fine specimen replicated in his own image. He then created woman to ease Adam’s loneliness and named her Lillith. Unfortunately, God realized his mistake too late in giving woman free will, for she would rule her domain—not man.
When Lillith left Adam, God created another for his first-born son, and gave her the name Eve and a kingdom called Eden, but by then it was too late, for he’d unleashed Hell into the world of man.
CHAPTER ONE
The road to perdition is painful as the bristle of whiskers, as sour as whiskey.
I am impartial to tides of change, for a compassionate sun is forever lost to me.
I am permanently defiled, tainted and alone, but for a cemetery song that will not cease.
The reek of death's fury infuses my world, as does the blood that stains my hands.
Coldness like no other scores through my soul; malfeasance fills me like a disease.
Abducted silence enters the void and I can never escape; this is my folly.
While winter’s virgin snowflakes fall around me, they are tinged and soiled.
Like crimson ballerinas, I watch their censured dance, alone and unrequited.
Absolved of nothing and shackled by my penance, here I shall remain…forever.
A. Eden
A slow, rhythmic cadence of ocean waves rolled into shore, a simple chime of the night he loved, but the beauty of the moment suddenly shattered as raucous music echoed off the rocky cliffs bordering the isolated beach. Addison turned and scowled in the direction of Satrina Vacher’s house some ten miles south.
He’d paid dearly for the property one hundred and forty-seven years earlier, but he’d only had the house built in the early 1950’s and remodeled every ten years or so thereafter for appearance’s sake. It was now 1988, and he knew the ranch style beach house would have to endure another renovation soon; a convenient reason to hide from the world for a time—again.
Satrina was his only neighbor for miles around, but no matter where he sought peace and solitude, she nipped at his heels like the Hellhound bitch she was. It had been that way for centuries.
Curling back his lips in disgust, Addison tried concentrating more readily on the waves and their melodic song while biting back the bitterness that came whenever he thought about that woman.
He found solace in the waves, and on nights like this, the ocean shone like a million diamonds scattered across a navy canvas. His hands grasped the thick wrought iron railing that ran the length of a wraparound balcony of his beach house just as another bout of laughter reached his ears. He gritted his teeth in irritation. With a lithe pounce, he balanced on the narrow ledge of the metal veranda and stood perfectly poised. Closing his eyes, he held his arms out to the side and allowed the winds coming in off the ocean to blow through him. Soundlessly, he dropped more than ten stories to the sand below. The sound of breaking waves grew louder here, beckoning to him and thankfully drowning out the annoying distractions coming from Satrina’s place. He removed his socks and shoes and strolled to the water’s edge. Still warm from the day’s sun, the sand cushioned his feet, and he sighed in abject pleasure.
Nights like this he wished he could lose himself in the beauty of the world, for there was little of it. This home was almost akin to Eden and the very reason why he did not move.
Chill water sloshed over the hems of his Armani trousers, drawing him back to the present. It was then he sensed the whispery pattering, the sudden spark of his awareness that had nothing to do with his neighbor’s merrymaking. With preternatural sight, he propelled his essence south, searching for the source of the distraction.
A vision of a woman entered his mind. She half ran, half stumbled along the beach. He moved his essence closer, intrigued by the bright light surrounding her. Her heartbeat slammed into him, hard, fast, and without mercy. His thirst rose; his teeth elongated. His curiosity piqued. Not another!
The woman fell several times, but like a hunted rabbit, she jumped to her feet, never looking back.
The scent of her fear solidified his misgivings. He hissed and clenched his fists.
As the woman drew closer, her aura grew more pronounced, illuminating high cheekbones and a heart-shaped face that held an almost angelic quality, but in a rather plain way compared to the usual beauties who frequented Satrina’s domicile. Rapid, erratic heartbeats lulled at his senses, quickening the hunger. He hadn’t fed, and this free meal dashing directly toward him was proving far too tantalizing. A sudden blaze of light decimated the usual murkiness of his world. He swayed and almost fell to his knees before the curious sensation passed.
The woman stopped several yards away, gasping for air, her eyes round and swimming with unspoken fear. Addison jerked back, more stunned by what he saw rather than what he’d felt. Pinpricks of incandescent light created a nimbus he’d never seen in a mortal before. Some auras were brighter than others, true, and those were the types of women he seduced for midnight dessert purposes, but when this stranger met his gaze, he found himself mesmerized as surely as if he’d placed the spell himself. Her whispered plea settled around him like a scrupulous shroud.
“Help m-me.”
Those two words resonated through him and demanded he listen. “Damnit!” he mumbled past a growl.
The female lurched toward him.
I don’t want to be involved, Satrina! he fumed. Before the stranger reached him, she tripped and fell one last time, unconscious. Without hesitation, Addison lifted her frail body into his arms. When her head rolled back, the telltale wounds marring her slender neck were easy enough to detect, however, a frantic search of her wrists and arms revealed no others, and he heaved a relieved sigh. Just one mark. He lifted an eyelid and found no red ring around the iris. Shooting a glare toward Satrina’s beach house, he almost choked on his loathing. Another one of her escaped pets, again! How many times do I have to clean up after you? Grinding his teeth, he scooped to pick up his shoes and socks and trudged back to the base of the cliff. With one fluid leap, he was air bound and over the balcony.
After laying the woman onto his couch, he stepped back and monitored the beating of her heart. The delectable muscle thrummed at a more normal pace, but her pallor worried him. She isn’t veiled—a small blessing, but she’s been bled. Frowning, he scratched the stubble on his jaw. Although, I doubt she’ll see it the same way.
He ventured into the kitchen and returned with a glass of water, uncertain what to do. Usually, he just returned Satrina’s pets without care or question, but why not this one? Worse, it meant a confrontation with that vampiress bitch, which he tried to avoid at all cost. What he’d just done now he knew he would pay dearly for.
He sat in his favorite chair across from the couch and crossed his legs, waiting, knowing the woman would stir soon.
When she finally opened eyes filled with confusion, he almost gasped at the blue irises that were a perfect match to his backyard ocean at sunset. She bolted upright, drawing knees tightly to her chest and pressing her back into the corner of the sofa. The fear he’d sensed earlier turned to terror.
“I n-n-need to go. I have… I have to go. Now!” She leapt to her feet, frantically searching for an escape.
Addison set the glass down on the ornate concrete block that served as his coffee table and crossed his arms to study her. Something about this felt wrong. “What were you doing at Satrina’s?”
“I-I-I made a-a horrible mistake. I have to… I need to get out of here.” She took timid steps backward, her eyes darting side to side.
“You’re not going anywhere, I’m afraid.” He looked to the floor, hating this part.
The intense heat radiating from her stare made him look up. Azure eyes held him fast, eyes that were glazed and feral. Sweat soaked strands of hair stuck to her cheeks, and she looked like a mouse caught in a trap. Would she taste as good as she looks? He turned away, despising the thought. “Please sit down, and I’ll try my best to explain what you’ve done.”
She shook her head, her lower lip trembling. “I-I-I’ve done?”
“You made an agreement with Satrina Vacher, and she’s rather tenacious about her bargains.” Odd, he felt drawn to this woman, and it had nothing to do with the delicious vein pumping at the side of that long, delicate neck.
“You know?” she whispered.
A single tear trickled from the corner of her eye. Fascinated, Addison followed the glistening trail down her cheekbone. He cleared his throat and continued. “When were you brought to Satrina’s?” Pretending to smooth back a cuticle, he waited. It was always difficult to explain something few mortals knew about, or even believed in.
“L-l-last night…I think, I dunno.”
“You’ve been offered what, once, twice?”
“Offered? I didn’t offer anything!” she shouted. “And h-h-how do you know all this?”
The child-like squeak in her voice touched the inhuman side of him in a way he’d almost forgotten. “It doesn’t matter. Did you sign in blood, your blood?” Say no.
She nodded slowly.
“Then the agreement is binding.” He blew out a laden sigh.
“The agreement? What agreement? Who are you? What’s happening here?” She froze, her features taut with outrage. “You’re like her, aren’t you? Y-y-you’re one of…of them?”
The timbre in her voice was something he was used to, but the fire in her eyes held him captivated. Usually, there was only fear, but aggressive defiance stared back. How unique, he mused. Like a well-versed prayer, he began the spiel. “When you signed, were you drunk or under the influence of any alcohol or mind-altering drugs?”
“No!”
“Were you unduly coerced?”
“I don’t…maybe…ye—”
“So, your lifelong dream has been to become a vampire, but then you had second thoughts?” The sneer he felt forming couldn’t be stopped.
“No!” She drew back her shoulders and sniffled. “I…it’s… I didn’t want to do it.”
“Please explain.” He leaned deeper into the cushions of the chair and rested an arm over the backrest.
“I, well...” Her body stiffened. “I was with a friend who wanted… I thought—”
“This was all a joke?” Could she be this innocent? Satrina, what have you done?
“Yes,” she mumbled, inching her way back to the couch.
She sat as far away as possible and grasped both knees until her knuckles turned white. One of the tins straps on the simple summer dress she wore drooped over a slender shoulder, but she didn’t bother to right it. Hair the color of burnt ginger hung about her face in loose, knotted tendrils. As he examined her clothing more closely, he realized that she was definitely different from the others. She didn’t wear the usual black leather punk clothing he’d often seen attired on Satrina’s pets, nor the heavy make-up and dark eyeliner both the men and women preferred. In fact, she was a natural beauty, a little plain, but that was part of her beguiling nature. His gaze roved over the saffron-colored dress that revealed a modest length, golden tanned legs and a perfect pair of bare feet and toenails painted a soft pink.
“What are you looking at?” She tried to curl her toes beneath her.
He grimaced at the sharpness in her tone. “They took your shoes?”
“They took everything. My purse, my car ke—”
“Yes, but you agreed to that.”
“I—did—not!”
Her indignant attitude was baffling to say the least. “Were the terms of the agreement explained to you?” However difficult it was, he refrained from growling in frustration.
Her delicate eyebrows folded downward. “I couldn’t hear all of it. The music in the place was so loud. Plus, Ryder kept shoving me in the back, so he could hear better.”
“Ryder? Your boyfriend?” A cruel spike cut through him.
“No…yes…kinda.” She looked away, her cheeks a fiery shade of scarlet. The tempo of her heart kicked up a notch, but not in a good way.
He made a mental note. “So, it was all his, this Ryder’s, idea?”
She glanced back and that fiery defiance flared in her eyes again. “What’s with the hundred questions? I need to get to the police and tell them what’s going on in that, that chamber of horrors. Look, I didn’t know what I was getting into. I didn’t even believe in any of this crap before. Ryder was so into it, and, and…” She closed her eyes and slumped forward.
“And?” he pressed, curious to know more.
“I always fall for the wrong guys,” she mumbled past a fresh onslaught of tears. “They’re trouble, and I always hook up with them. But tonight? This takes the cake. That woman, she stuck me in a cage in that hole in the ground, like, like—”
“Like some kind of animal,” he quietly finished.
She looked up, shocked.
“What you signed is called the Illy’ra, and it’s not a contract a lawyer can get you out of. Whatever you saw tonight, believe it. Vampires are real. They live in modern society as adaptable as you, and I.” He paused, gauging her reaction. “They live a very long time, so many are quite wealthy and powerful.”
“I’ll go to the police, to the FBI…to someone.” She lifted her head with false bravado.
His eyes narrowed. “Then you will consummate your death warrant, and that would be extremely foolish. Creatures of the night pay the police quite handsomely for their indiscretions. You agreed to be fodder to Satrina, her personal pet for one year of service, and she will expect you to comply with the terms of the Illy’ra.”
The woman shuddered and wiped a stray tear across her cheek. He leaned forward, more intrigued than ever. Her naiveté tugged at him, and it was obvious that she wasn’t Satrina’s type in the least. So, why did his ex-wife take her?
“Ryder told me just to sign it.” She sniffled again, and ran a finger under her nose.
Addison squeezed his eyes shut, shook his head, and emitted a disgusted snort. “And if he told you to jump off a mountain, would you do so?” Her stupidity astounded him.
“Now, see here—”
“No!” He pushed aside disappointment and frustration, and tried to relax. Brushing the pad of his thumb down the sharp crease of his trousers, he reined in his emotions. “You signed an agreement to become a surrogate cow to a vampire who will come to you night after night to steal from your veins. You will live in a cage in a dark, musty hole until you learn to serve her, never seeing the light of day until your ultimate veiling, or your death.”
A frightened whimper followed. “Veiling? This can’t be happening.” She crumpled to the couch and buried her head in her arms, sobbing.