Chapter 8: The Love Which Dare Not Scream Its Name

Meanwhile, Tarin was headed over to Voluptua’s. This was not an undertaking she undertook lightly, and under her glistening chain-mail were hidden various weapons, ass well as a secret vial of holy water and another of Essence of Garlic. Yet Tarin did not plan to kill Voluptua, satisfying as that might have been. She knew she would be injured, possibly killed in the struggle, and she needed all her strength to destroy Roquefort. No, Tarin came to Voluptua’s home because she had been invited. A card had come in her mail, inviting her to have tea and discuss a truce. Tarin doubted that Voluptua had any such truce in mind, but the layout of Voluptua’s home would be a useful thing to have in her mind for later.
“My dear. Do come in,” said Voluptua, opening the door to her lavishly furnished townhouse. “I’ve just had Deshedned lay out a tea tray.”
“Please don’t call me your dear. I know you want something from me. You may as well tell me upfront,” Tarin said.
Voluptua laughed. It sounded like poisonous bells. “You don’t take any pleasure in conversation? A great man once said that when you have to kill a man, it costs nothing to be polite. When you come into a vampire’s home with a stake and vial of holy water under your clothes, you should at least indulge her in some pleasantries. Please sit down, by the way.”
“I’m here to have tea with you, Voluptua. If you get a lion to lie down with a lamb, you don’t tempt the lion with irritating small talk.”
“Mmm, well, I’ll try not to tempt you too much,” smiled Voluptua. “Cream? Sugar?”
“Cream, no sugar.”
“Of course. And now I will oblige you by getting to the point. You may have noticed Roquefort and Lucretius floating around in an irritating fashion.”
“I have.”
“And, while I know you have a strange grudge against me—”
“Voluptua, be reasonable. I’m a vampire-slayer. You’re a vampire. I also know you’ve helped Roquefort in the past. I just want to know why you’d help me.”
“I didn’t help Roquefort, I fucked Roquefort. Completely different, as I’m sure you’re aware. And I’m helping you because it benefits me, obviously. Why do you think I do anything?”
“Good point,” Tarin admitted
“I believe The Brothers Twit have kidnapped that priest of yours.”
“What? Fr. Stephen? Why?” Tarin gasped. “Are they going to molest him?”
“God, what a nasty and completely believable idea that is,” said Voluptua. “Anyway, I’ve no idea why they’ve got him. I do have a mute spy installed as their bartender, but he can’t hear everything. I hope it’s not something too diabolic.”
“Oh my God,” Tarin said. “Well, get him back.”
“I beg your pardon?”
“Come on. Isn’t that really why you asked me here? You know you’re the only person who can take on Lucretius and Roquefort. You know I can’t let Stephen be kidnapped by molester nosferatu. And I know you’re going to want something from me. So you win, Voluptua. Get him back.”
“You know, there are more modes of conversation than cutting to the chase,” Voluptua said mildly. “And if you ask me to, I will bring your friend back. But I want you to promise not to try to kill me, now or ever.”
“Is that all? Of course I won’t, if you rescue my friend.”
“Mmmm, lovely. How nice that we’ve reached this little entente. We shall leave immediately. I happen to know where they’re headed. I assume you’ll want to accompany me? To keep me honest?”
“You know, you act like I’m completely unreasonable for disliking you, but you kill people,” Tarin said.
“You kill vampires.”
“Vampires kill innocent people.”
“And why, pray, does that entitle you to act as our judge? Is it murder when I kill somebody to eat, but not when you kill someone who you don’t like as a species?”
“Don’t philosophize me, Voluptua, we’d just reached this nice understanding. And yes, I will accompany you.”
“How delightful to have intelligent female company for once,” Voluptua said. She rose and stood what would have been eye-to-eye with Tarin, except that Voluptua was wearing heels about six inches high.
“Okay, then,” Tarin said, put off my Voluptua’s casual disregard for personal space. “Should we, um, go?”
“Yes. But first there’s something I must tell you,” Voluptua said, in a low voice. Her white hand snaked around Tarin’s shoulder and traced a line down the nape of Tarin’s neck. “Ever since I first saw you in the bar, I was struck by your brisk stride. Your competence, your confidence, your dark and sultry eyes. I love men, but a woman like you can turn my head, and I’ve been dead for over a thousand years.”
“Voluptua,” stammered Tarin, “I’m flattered, but I’m afraid I love the cock. And anyway, I can’t justify a lesbian interlude when we’re supposed to be rescuing Stephen.”
“I wouldn’t worry about Stephen,” Voluptua purred, stroking Tarin’s hair, “Roquefort and Lucretius can’t do anything quickly or effectively. And darling, I know you want me. Everyone does.”
Before Tarin could point out the essential narcissism of this statement, Voluptua had bent her face and pressed her warm, red lips against Tarin’s own. Voluptua’s black, shining hair brushed Tarin’s face, and she realized that it smelled like jasmine blossoms. The heat of the kiss caught her surprise.
“Ah, Tarin,” murmured Voluptua against Tarin’s thoat, “you taste as good as you look. And you look beautiful. I must have you, now, on crimson sheets of iniquity.”
“This is wrong,” Tarin muttured, but her heart beat faster and her nipples tightened under the chain mail, which proved slightly painful.
“Sometimes when I’m conflicted about something, I do it anyway,” Voluptua said helpfully.
“I know that,” Tarin said, “but I--- ooh!”
Voluptua had scooped her up in her surprisingly strong arms and was walking gracefully toward the stairs. She bent as she went to kiss Tarin’s baffled forehead. Tarin felt herself sink under Voluptua’s warm and arousing spell. Voluptua carried her to a sumptuously furnished bedchamber. And then they had dirty, energetic sex.