The Witch: Book Two of The Sorceress Saga by Taliesin Govannon (top 10 novels of all time .txt) 📗

arms. “So that means that my cock might end up in man-hating-Jazzy’s mouth after I reward her for years of service by turning her into the undead!”

                “I don’t think so.” Jazzy said. “Just because I lose my aversion to penises doesn’t mean that I’m going to start fucking dicks.” She cocked her head, an icy stare along with her grin.

                “Fucking hell,” Seamus said, shielding his eyes, “can I even turn a harpie?”

                Jazzy pulled a seat over and took a bottle of beer off of the platter.

                “So it’s true?” Tiffany asked her as she took a drink. “About human caretakers for vampires that hope to be turned someday?”

                “It’s true, but it’s not a hope.” she replied. “It’s a sacred contract. I pledge myself to serve Seamus for a set number of years… fifteen plus one for me… and can request turning at the end of that term. And Seamus would be honor-bound to fulfill that request.”

                “Aye, and she’s given notice at the dawn of her final year already.” Seamus said, nodding. “Come Midsummer, and she’ll see her last sunrise for a few hundred years.”

                “I’m going to ask the same question I’m sure most people ask you.” Tiffany said, leaning in. “Why?”

                “Well, it was not a foregone conclusion when I started here.” Jazzy said. “It never is. We all start this gig for our own reasons… mine was that I was a fourteen year old disaster who had just gotten, and wanted to stay, clean… but we all have a choice every fifteen years: Become a vampire, quit and lead our own human life, or sign up for another fifteen year term.”

                “And you’ve chosen vampire.” Tiffany continued to probe. “Why.”

                “Because I like living.” Jazzy said. She reached into her pocket as she continued. “We work on ourselves our whole lives, only to have the shell we’re in wither and die after what, sixty to ninety years? Sod that.”

                “Well,” I said, “I have enough past life entanglements to tell you that death isn’t the end.”

                “So what, I can be a baby again and fucking start over?” Jazzy said, her eyebrows raised. “Fuck that! I spent ten years working on my shite, and on the other side of that I discovered that I like life. And what’s even more, I like living life as me! I’ve worked my arse off to build who I am today, and I think I did a pretty bitchin job!” She pulled a joint out of her pocket and lit it up. “So hit the cosmic recycler, and start all over again? And risk being born into a fucked up family again to give me a fuck-load of fresh neuroses to spend my teen years acquiring and dealing with again? Fuck that with a rusty dildo.”

                I couldn’t really argue with her.

                                                                                                *                *                *

                The meal was, in a word, sumptuous. Shepherd's pie, brazed goat with potatoes and rosemary, and quail stuffed with wild rice made an incredible main menu, with Irish stew and beer bread for appetizers. I washed everything down with a couple of thick, sweet porters from Seamus' private stock. I sat back as everyone else finished up, my after-dinner joint smoldering on my hand.

                “So, do vampires eat human food because they long for past humanity, or what?” Tiffany said as she hit her own joint.

                Seamus swallowed his last bite of stew, gesturing with his fork. “I won’t lie, a fine bit of meat still tastes un-fucking-believable!”  he said. “But that’s not it.”

                “I always figured that Vincent wanted me to feel comfortable.” I said.

                “Aye, I could see Vincent, and especially Angelique, doing such a thing.  Even if it were uncomfortable for them, which it isn’t.” Seamus looked at me. “But it’s not that.”

                “Then what is it?”

                “Well, blood will keep a vampire alive,” The Scot explained, “but it won’t do much for muscle tone or skin color. To keep from looking like a desiccated corpse, it helps to bring in other nutrients from time to time.”

                “We had a vampire stop by who’d been traveling overland for quite some time stop by last year.” Jazzy said, swallowing her food. “She’d been living off of hermits and loners for a few months, and she was a frightful sight!”

                “Normally, she was a looker!” Seamus added.

                “Well, yeah,” Jazzy continued, “and she did again by the time she left, but when she arrived? My fucking vibrator has more muscle tone!”

                I couldn’t help but see Tiffany grinning by my side. “Entertaining, aren’t we?” I said, grinning.

                “It’s not just that.” she said. “It’s that a friend of mine back home, Kristi, has studied vampires her entire life. She’d give her left tit to be here right now.”

                “Well, maybe we can arrange for Kristi to come for a fact-finding mission some time." I said. "Get Vincent stoned on enough shade, and he'll tell her anything."

                “Kickass!" Tiffany grinned. "Maybe she'll finally go out with me."

                “You know,” Jazzy said, grinning over her glass of wine, “If you’re looking for female companionship, you have options other than reluctant honors students.” She smiled a lusty grin.

                “Well then,” Tiffany smiled back, “maybe you should stop by my room later to help me… go over my options.”

                Part of me is worried about getting this one home around Raina!

                I heard the theme to ‘The Munsters TV show, and Seamus felt around his pockets until he pulled out a very modern-looking cell phone.

                “Hello?” he said into it after answering. “Aye there, everything’s calm and peaceful. Okay, here she is.”

                He handed me the phone, and I heard a wonderfully familiar voice on the other end.

                “Vincent?” I said excitedly. “Baby, is that really you?”

                “It’s me.” he replied. “How are you doing?”

                “Better now.”

                “How’s Seamus? Still cranky as hell?”

                I got up and walked away from the table. “And then some! But his caretaker is cool.”