Little Doll (Blackmoth House #1)

Chapter 12 Nova

Chapter 12

Nova

“Oh look, Little Doll, a fortune teller!” Fane exclaimed. “Let’s get our futures read!”

I winced, almost unable to hear him over the horrid scratching in my head. Then I smirked. “I already know my secret, live forever, never see the sun again.”

Fane pantomimed a sad face and dramatic crying. “Boo hoo, sister, such melodrama. Come on, let’s step inside the fortune teller’s tent while Astrid has her fun.”

He led me into the small tent. A decrepit old crone wearing a black sparkling cloak with a hood covering her silver hair was seated at a small round table adorned with a blue tablecloth with embroidered gold stars. A crystal ball was positioned in front of her, and it caught the glimmer of the burning candles around the woman. When she moved, there was a gentle, sweet sound of bells jingling.

The old woman unnerved me and the scent of burning patchouli made my head spin.

Fane produced a silver shilling from his pocket and the woman extended a trembling, withered hand to him. He dropped the coin into her palm and bounced into the chair at the table that was opposite the fortune teller.

“I see a journey in your future, a trip to a distant land. You will encounter a dark-haired stranger who will offer you an unexpected opportunity. Beware of signing contracts, as not everything will be as it seems. Also, your lucky number is 7,” said the woman in a brittle voice.

I rolled my eyes. How did people fall for such things? But Fane grinned and popped out of his seat, only to guide me by the shoulders into the seat across from the old woman. He offered her another shilling, but she had already reached across the table and snatched my hands. I startled and stared at her wide eyed. Her wrinkled face had darkened.

“The bones call to you,” the woman whispered. I gasped and tried to pull my hands away from her. Her weak and wrinkled hands turned into an iron grip on mine. Her skin became hot to the touch. “They call out for justice,” she said before lowering her voice even further. “Listen to the whispers in the walls. ”

This time I tore my hands away from her and scrambled backwards to escape the little table. My chair toppled to the dirt behind me and the woman was still staring at me with small beady eyes as I ran from the tent.

“Nova!” called Fane. “Nova are you alright, Little Doll?” he asked, catching up with me.

My body shook and shuddered. I must’ve looked a fright. He pulled me into his arms and held me. “Shhhh,” he cooed. “It’s all just fun and games.”

I tried to focus on his soothing voice and ignore the incessant scratching in my mind, but it was no use.

Astrid appeared at our side and snapped me out of the spell the fortune teller had seemed to cast upon me. I bent over her and examined her face. She looked plump, with a healthy rosy hue to her round cheeks. Her ringlet curls seemed even more luxurious and silky than usual. I used my thumb to wipe away a miniscule drop of blood at the corner of her mouth. “Having fun?” I asked her.

She grinned and nodded enthusiastically.

“Good,” I said. “I’m so proud of you. You’re doing so well. Now, you remember what I said, right? You’re being very careful?”

Astrid nodded again. She lifted her hand and pointed off in the distance where a Ferris wheel loomed, creaking and turning against the night sky. “I want to ride that!” she said.

Standing tall, I looked at Fane. “I’m terrified of heights,” I told him. “Would you take her?”

Fane gave a sweeping bow, stooped down, and offered his elbow to Astrid. “As you wish, m’lady,” he promised.

I watched as the two of them wandered away through the crowd and then I walked away in another direction.

There was a tent labeled “Funhouse” nearby. I don’t know what possessed me to wander inside, but that’s what I did.

The first room was full of painted wooden statues of creepy clowns. But they were so weathered and faded, it was difficult to find them too amusing. I wove between them and made my way to a dark doorway on the other side of the room.

Next was a room where the walls were painted with wavy black and white lines. The floor slanted different directions, and metal poles that were difficult to see spread from floor to ceiling throughout the room. They forced me to cling to the bars and shimmy around them in order to cross to the next door.

Then I walked into a house of mirrors.

My mind transported me to the moment I last looked into a mirror and watched myself transform into a deformed and beastly monster. I stopped in my tracks and turned to dart out of the room, but I’d already become disorientated.

I couldn’t find my way.

Hysterical tears beaded in my eyes, and I screamed.

Madness crept around the edges of my mind, and I felt I would soon lose control. I darted forward with my eyes pinned shut and ran straight into a wall of cold glass. I turned and started forward again, and again I crashed into the hard mirrors. As I ran about blindly, I felt beaten and battered, repeatedly bouncing backwards and falling roughly to the floor. I cried and begged pitifully to no one.

Except somebody was there.

Strong, warm hands stopped me.

“Fane?” I cried, afraid to open my eyes and see who had me.

A hard body pressed against me, an arm encircling my shoulders and a hand slipping over my eyes. I instantly calmed down and whoever belonged to the brawny arms around me led me out.

Soon I heard the sound of the carnival goers and the night air on my skin soothed and invigorated me once again. The arms around me unhanded me and I spun around and threw my arms around him, my eyes still shut tight.

“Shhhh,” he said, and I felt a warm, soft kiss on my forehead.

When I opened my eyes, I saw it was the handsome knife thrower who had saved me from the house of mirrors. We were standing in a deserted alley behind an apparent service exit of the tent he’d just rescued me from. The sounds of the carnival seemed distant. The lights on the Ferris wheel in the distance twinkled magically. An old, gnarled tree stood resolutely next to us, and the stars glowed in the night sky, visible through its branches.

His arms slid around my waist and a low growl emanated from his throat. I heard the blood pulse in his veins and my body fell weak against his.

He slipped his tongue up my cheek, licking away my tears. “Why don’t you like mirrors?” he asked. “You’re so beautiful.”

My breath came in quick pants. “Afraid of what I’ll see in them,” I whispered, my voice shaking. He watched my lips as I spoke. Then he fell forward, taking my lips hard. He raked his hands into my hair and tugged my head back so he could kiss me deeper, plunging his tongue in and massaging my mouth with it. I whimpered against his hot mouth. The scratching in my head had reached a fevered pitch, and now the maddening noise of it competed with the sound of his rushing blood. I both heard and felt his warm blood rush to his cock as it hardened against me. So hard that I could feel it through my skirt and petticoats.

My hands raced for his trousers, fumbling to unbutton them. I hissed a sigh when my hand found the hot flesh of his hard cock. His blood thrummed in his veins, causing them to pulse and throb in my hand. It was my turn to growl as my heart sped dangerously. I could scarcely draw a breath under the demand of his savage kiss. I ripped my lips away from him and, with a desperate gasp of air rushing back into my lungs; I sunk to my knees before him. I glanced up at him once, quickly, to see his penetrating dark eyes and the slight smile baring just a hint of his teeth.

I took him into my mouth.

“Yeeeeeeessss,” he sighed. His soft exaltation quieted the other noises in my mind slightly and I hummed happily around his cock. He reached down to run his fingers through my hair, then positioned his hands on both sides of my face to control me as he fucked my mouth. He moved his hips slow but hard, grinding into my face. My tongue lapped at the underside of his pulsing shaft even as his tip bumped the back of my throat. I could taste his rushing blood even through his warm flesh. My teeth sharpened and I shifted all my focus toward only letting them lightly graze him and not biting his dick off. He rocked into me, and I became so aroused and lustful for his blood that my eyes fluttered closed and I felt as though I was drifting in a dream.

But then he let out a low roar and yanked me to my feet. He pulled me in for another brief but feral kiss. Then he moved his lips to my ear and whispered, “May I fuck you, beautiful creature?”

My body tremored as a warm wave rolled through me. I grinned at him and scrambled to lift my skirt and petticoats. I wasn’t wearing anything underneath.

I’d grown to enjoy feeling the air moving against my center all the time.

He growled again and pushed me back into the tree. Even through my clothes, the bark was rough, and I could feel it leaving its mark. He reached behind my ass and hoisted me up, linking my legs around his thin waist. He yanked both my arms up and placed them against the tree, where I clawed at the bark to try to hold on.

He reached between my legs and pressed a finger inside me. I closed my eyes, and my hair tangled with the bark as I lifted my chin upward and moaned.

“You’re already wet,” he whispered. I nodded and whimpered.

He slipped another finger inside, then began to move them. The sound of the scratching became loud again, and I snarled, which he took for lust, and penetrated me faster. His cock pulsed against my wet skin, just below my center, and his blood rushing drove me nearly mad.

“Now, please,” I panted. “Fuck me now.”

He chuckled low and mean, then said, “As you wish, darling.” With a slight adjustment of my body in his strong arms, he was inside me all the way.

The bark bit into my back as he rocked into me. He shoved me into the tree and up with every vicious thrust and I cried out, a sound of pure joy. My teeth ached and my head ached with all the sounds that I couldn’t get out of it. Pleasure and need built low in my belly. My pussy throbbed like a dam about to burst.

I dropped my hands and clutched his hard face, dragging his lips to mine once again. He grunted against my lips as he thrust into me, each pump a little harder than the last. His blood throbbed in his cock and in his hot lips. When I closed my eyes, I could envision it coursing through him in perfect time with his cock ramming into me. He was as lost to desire as I was, and I knew I could take just a little bite…

I moved my lips to his neck, kissing him there, then sucking, and then I slipped my teeth in, as gently as he’d fingered me to test my desire for him.

He groaned, and I felt his rocky body spasm against me for just a second. He began pumping into me more furiously than ever.

His blood coursed over my tongue, slow and slick, while his cock pounded into me fast and hard. Connected to him this way, I could feel his ecstasy mounting right alongside my own, and it sent me spiraling over the edge.

I screamed against his neck as his blood warmed my tongue and soothed my teeth. My pussy undulated on him, pulsing and fluttering while I came hard. The primal part of him responded to my orgasm, and he convulsed against me as his warm seed erupted deep inside me. Feeling him come both in my pussy and through his blood sent me over the edge again, even before the final pulses of my first orgasm were through. I left my teeth in him only long enough to ride out our undoing and then let him go as he was allowing his cock to slip out of me. He leaned into my body and rested his head on my chest for just a moment of sleepy bliss. Then, he let my feet down and let my skirts fall once again, covering me.

His warm cum dripped down my inner thighs and it made my legs tremble.

He gave me a shy smile. “I’m sorry, I don’t know what came over me,” he said.

Laughing, I kissed his cheek. “I believe I did, good sir.”

He tossed his head back and laughed, a jolly sound on the night air. Unfortunately, the scratching had resumed its incessantly loud pitch, and I barely heard my newest lover. I smiled politely and said, “Well, I’ll let you get back to your evening. I should find my brother and sister.”

He nodded, then swept my hand up to his lips and planted a kiss there. I could still smell the blood behind the two tiny puncture marks I’d left in his neck, and he was none the wiser in his blissed out post coital state of mind. “Until we meet again,” he promised, before turning and sauntering away.

I found Fane and Astrid walking out of the main tent, ushered out by the sounds of a roaring lion and a yelling ringmaster putting on a show inside the tent. Astrid ran to me and gave me a hug while Fane smirked.

The three of us strolled about. Astrid seemed satisfied, no longer nibbling on other children. Now she flitted about exploring games and food, enjoying the sounds and smells of the place. Fane ambled along beside me and leaned close to whisper to me. “You look perfectly fucked, Little Doll.”

I shrugged and gave a lazy wave of my hand. “Perhaps,” I replied gloomily.

“Aw, what’s wrong, dear sister? You sound melancholy? Your lover didn’t know how to please you?”

“He was quite fine,” I insisted, giving him a sideways scathing glance. “I just have a headache. Quite an awful one, in fact.”

I’d had a aching head nearly every night since I had gone through my transition. Now, the headache was growing into a throbbing, torturous thing that roiled my stomach and made everything look blurry around the edges.

“A vampire with a migraine headache?” Fane asked, stopping and taking hold of my elbow gently. “That’s unusual. I’m sorry, Nova. Shall we go home?”

My eyes welled with tears, and I nodded. “Maybe we should soon. I don’t want to disturb Astrid’s lovely time, though. Let’s stay a little while longer.”

Fane nodded but watched me with concern. “Yes, Little Doll. Just let me know when you are ready.”

We began to coral Astrid and casually steer her back toward the front gate. As we approached, she begged to enter one more tent before our departure. We followed her inside, only to discover two different stages with two different small audiences. On one, was a woman bending her body in ways I had never even imagined. On the second stage was my knife thrower.

We drifted past the contortionist on our way to watch the knives fly. She bent backwards and then twisted her head between her feet and back so that she could look me right in the eye as I passed her. I grimaced at the ugly, unnatural form of her body.

“Tonight is the night,” she whispered to me, giving me a malevolent grin. I gasped and latched onto Fane’s arm.

When we convened in front of the knife thrower, I could barely concentrate on his performance for the noise and the agonizing pain all inside my head. But I noticed the show was strange. He stood across the stage from a large spinning wheel. It looked like a huge target, as big as a person, and it spun slowly. But there was no person strapped to the wheel, only a sort of leather bag that looked almost like an anatomical heart. Though it was some sort of prop, I imagined blood coursing through it.

My knife thrower had a table at his side, where many knives were stacked neatly. He plucked one from the pile and hurtled it at the target.

The thwack of the knife as it hit the wheel made me jump and sent a lightning bolt through my brain. I didn’t want to be there. I didn’t want to watch this show. But my sister stood watching, enchanted.

Such a strange act. His knife hit nowhere near the bullseye or the prop heart. Was my knife thrower bad at his job?

He threw another knife, and another. He fell into a rhythm and the knives whirred effortlessly through the air. In no time, a shape formed on the slow spinning board.

It was a perfect portrait of a skeleton shaped with knives.

When he threw the last knife, it punctured the heart. I was close enough to be sprayed by the warm red liquid that burst from it. Real, warm blood. It speckled my lips, and I ran my tongue over it.

I thought of the little boy crushed by the wheels of our carriage. Pain thundered in my head. I began to cry.