He joined the first by the back railing.
I crawled in closer and let out a low whistle.
Two men glanced over at me, and I grabbed them. Mine.
Over to the railing with them.
Rapid gunfire was coming out of the house, and I still didn’t want to be hit with that many bullets. I pulled my own gun out, and shot one of the men closest to the door, through the window. He dropped dead.
Marksmanship. I smirked, thankful for the humans the overlords had sent to me upon waking me from my Rest. One of those tasty meals had prided themselves on the art of a direct hit. No need to be wasteful or messy.
Three more turned by the back door. I was able to Thrall them and had them dropped to the floor a heartbeat later, curled into a fetal position. The other men inside were getting confused, and it was all I hoped for. They were all turning to the window to see what was going on as the gunfire started to die.
I stepped through the hole-filled window and dropped five more into Thrall.
A bullet ripped through my shoulder, jerking me back and pissing me off.
I had two of the men turn to release a hail of bullets at the ones still firing, mowing half of them down, leaving the other half screaming and disorganized.
Perfect. I sauntered into the house with my gun pointed in the general direction of the men left not under my power. As they noticed me, each fell into Thrall and moved out of my way.
Samson lay on the floor, nursing a wound in his leg.
I didn’t Thrall him. Instead, I let my fangs down and smiled.
He shouted, “Wha...what the fuck are you?”
“I’m asking the questions, Mister Samson.”
“Jesus Christ, lady…”
Annoyed by the wound on my shoulder, I grabbed the closest piece of shit I had Thralled and tipped his head back. I sank my fangs into his neck and took a long pull from his vein. His blood was foul, full of drugs and greed. But, at the same time, it accelerated the healing to my shoulder.
I let him go without sealing the bite; they were all dead anyway.
Samson had tears running down his face, staring at the useless blood bag standing there.
“Why are you after Ginter?”
“D-don’t...don’t kill me.”
“Answer the question!”
“I...he…”
I cocked the gun and shot the donor in the head. “Why are you after Ginter?”
“Holy shit.” He choked, more tears wetting his face.
I shot another nearby scumbag in the head. “I don’t care for your hesitation.”
He pissed himself. Fab.
But he finally opened his mouth to do something aside from stutter. “They want me to blackmail him, humiliate him. He can’t have a seat in the Senate. He’ll fuck everything up. Problem is, the fucker is clean, honest. Won’t take money or threats. He’s got to be killed off if he won’t take the cash.”
“Who?”
“What?”
I took aim at his head. “Who wants him dead?”
“I don’t know!”
I shot the mostly dead human next to him in warning.
“Fuck, lady, I don’t know! He only comes around once in a while. Drops off a folder and a bank bag. No names. Just, corrupt Ginter.”
I was about to demand more information when a lightning bolt of lust shot through me and almost made me lose the massive Thrall I had cast. I staggered against the wall, and managed to fend off the desperate need for an orgasm…but only just.
Fuck. The influence on Haley.
She and Ginter were having sex, and that lust was rolling through to me.
Another shot of want slammed into me, and I had to close my eyes to bear it.
The Thrall floundered for a moment, but I grabbed it back.
The idea of trying to work through this did not appeal to me.
I was absolutely disgusted at myself for forgetting that strong emotion could also come through the influence link. I needed sex immediately, and at that moment, my only good option was Nial, which wasn’t an option at all. Or…
The cowering figure of Samson trembled there, surrounded by several dead men. He stank of fear, sweat, shame, and piss.
He also happened to be full of the blood that would stave off my need for sex.
Reaching down and grabbing him by his shirt, I yanked him up to his feet.
Samson let out a piercing scream of pain when he put weight on his wounded leg. Unfortunately, he had no idea what pain was. Yet.
Wrapping my hand around the nape of his neck to hold him in place, I didn’t bother to put him in Thrall. “You were dead anyway.”
I yanked his head back and drove my fangs into his vein, scoring deep and tearing the flesh free. The rich red blood poured from his jugular, and I nearly came from the blood as it flowed from him. His screaming was becoming annoying, and after holstering my gun, I slapped my hand over his mouth to muffle the disgusting shrieking that served no purpose but to piss me off even more.
As I drank the free-flowing blood, another shot of lust pulsed through me. This time, with so much blood at my disposal, I was able not only to hold onto the Thrall that I had more than a dozen men clenched in, I was able to allow the massive orgasm to roll through my body.
This was living.
As the climax receded, I had to wrap my lips around the pulsing vein to pull the rest of the blood from his body. There was no reason to hesitate draining him to his last drop. Samson had served his purpose, and I needed the face that went with the bank bag.
I swallowed the last of his blood as his body turned limp, dropping at my feet.
“What did you do?”
I whipped around, my gun out, and nearly pulled the trigger before I realized it was Nial. I shouldn’t have stopped the impulse to shoot him.
“Oh, for fuck’s sake, you got it all over you. Gross, Gwen.”
I shot him.
The impact on his thigh jerked him backward, and he was barely able to catch himself. I was hoping he’d at least fall on his ass.
“What the fuck?! Damn it. Now I have to drink.”
“Take one, there’s plenty,” I muttered, kicking Samson’s body away from me. He was right, I had blood all over my shirt, but the orgasm was worth it.
Bleeding but wanting answers, he looked around the kitchen and back deck. “Are you holding all these?”
“I am.” I was quietly impressed with myself.
Perhaps my recent Rest had been beneficial—even if cut short. There was just over two dozen still alive that I was holding in Thrall. This wasn’t even pushing what I could hold, my power not even peaked.
Shaking his head, Nial took the closest neck and drained him dry.
The bullet squeezed out of his leg, dropping to the floor with a quiet clink.
I was going to enjoy the memory of shooting him for a good long time.
“Johnny?”
We both whipped around at the shrill scream from the front door.
A woman came tearing into the room.
“Oh mah gawd! Oh, gawd! Johnny!”
She never had a chance to realize we were there. I put a bullet through her brain.