Stone Skin, Clan Cruor, #CampNaNoWriMo April

Hybrid

CHAPTER 7 Hybrid

~~Adult content ahead~~

1812, Louisiana...

Anjael was tired as she landed back at Coven Orleans, Claude was not in his room despite it being before sunset, so she went to her room, bathed and went to sleep. A servant woke her when it was dark, and she dressed for the costume party Coven Orleans was having. Claude came in as she finished her hair.

"You look like a statue of Venus I saw in Paris when I was a child," he grinned.

Anjael smiled sadly at him in the mirror. "That statue is my mother's cousin."

Misunderstanding, he responded, "She was a beautiful model."

Before she could correct him, he hugged her from behind and nibbled on her neck. "I wish I could bite you and claim you forever, my darling demoness."

She turned to look at him, dressed as a greek god with drapes of gaudy fabric and woven laurel branches like a birdnest on his head. She almost laughed and told him the real Grecian Devas would never dress that way.

She reached up and untied his 'garment', sliding it down before she licked him from his maleness to his navel in one slow trailing motion. The change in his scent was immediate and so was his body's response. She glanced up at his half-lidded eyes, shimmering scarlet with desire.

"My angel, you will make us late."

"Actually, our tardiness will depend on you." Grinning at him with pearly teeth, Anjael rubbed him causing his hips to jerk against her practiced hands. He groaned and reached for the back of her head as she sucked on him, but her tail and other hand caught his wrists. Popping his head out of her mouth, she blinked up at him. "Don't touch the hair."

She seductively lowered herself to her knees, cupping his balls as she dragged her pearly nails between his legs. Sucking his length slowly, he cursed softly in French, but she continued until his legs quivered. He dug his nails into her dressing table to remain standing as he moaned her name over and over, calling her his angel and professing his love. With the length of him, to the back of her throat, her tongue caressed his tightened balls and squeezed them while her tail rubbed up and down his legs. She scented the change and felt the pulse in the tip so she sunk her claws into his hips as she sucked harder and he cried out in pain and pleasure. His entire frame bucking and twitching then his legs collapsed. She held him in her arms looking down at him with a satisfied smiled. He panted with his eyes closed for several minutes then the grand clock downstairs chimed loudly and music began.

"Just in time," she murmured and kissed him. Licking the sweat from his brow, he smelled and tasted unlike any vampyr she had known or taken as a consort. She enjoyed him immensely, but her inner self wanted to return to having a Lycani consort.

"My angel, marry me and be my queen."

"But I'm already a queen." Laughing, she shook her head. "Get dressed, Lord Jean Claude or you will be late to your own theme party."

He laughed and dressed quickly as she watched, then he held out his hand to her. "Come my queen, we have guests to attend." Rising, she followed him down to the fin-de-siecle party.

/\^^^^/\

There were three more murders during the Fat Tuesday feasts. All during the day. Anjael was tired from not resting. Partying all night and watching all day was wearing even her enhanced metabolism out. She needed to refill her blood supply but she doubted she would find any untainted blood in the entire city and she refused to 'drink' from children. Brother Justus agreed with Elder Wolf's assertion that a hybrid day-walker was responsible for the deaths. It troubled him since Wicce-Vampyri were notoriously dangerous and often arrogant to the point of callous towards those they did not consider to be their equals.