Blackwood Farm - Anne Rice [238]
“Petronia had hold of my arm. She was dragging me again. I felt the sharp kick of her foot in my ribs. I could no longer see. I could hear the Old Man cry out. I knew it was for me that he cried. But she merely cursed under her breath. The marble felt cold beneath me. I lay sprawled against it.
“Suddenly the scene changed. I was no longer in my body but looking down on it, and down on all the occupants of the room. I was at the entrance to a long dark tunnel, and a roaring wind surrounded me, a frightening wind, and at the end of the tunnel there appeared a wondrous light, a light truly beyond description, and in that light, huge gold-and-white light, I could see the figures of Pops and Sweetheart gazing at me. Lynelle was also with them. I wanted desperately to join them, but I couldn’t move. Some hideous fascination with Petronia and Manfred and Arion prevented me from moving. Some putrid ambition kept me from turning and reaching out for those I so loved. There was no clarity in me. There was only turbulence. Then, as suddenly as this vision had come, it was gone. I had made no decision.
“I was back in my aching and bruised body. I was on the marble floor again.
“ ‘You’re dying,’ Petronia said. ‘But I know you now, I know you from the Blood, and I won’t let it happen, Tarquin Blackwood. I claim you as my own.’ Again, her arms lifted me.
“ ‘Ask him what he wills,’ said the black one named Arion.
“ ‘What do you will?’ she demanded. She held me up on my knees in front of her. I could feel her velvet pants against me. ‘Speak to me,’ she said. ‘What do you will?’
“Helpless and clumsy I fell against her crotch, grabbing for her leg and then recoiling, and near collapsing, as she jerked my shoulder and held me on my knees.
“ ‘What do you want!’ she demanded again. What was I to say? To die? In this place, around the world from Aunt Queen, from Mona, from all I loved, to die without a trace?
“I raised my fist, trying to hurt her. I hit her but my fist had nothing behind it. I clawed at her velvet clothes. I tried to hit her again. I struck at her private parts.
“ ‘Oh, you want to see it, do you? You want to see what they all laughed at!’ she said. ‘Come now, pay me homage,’ she said. I heard the snap opening, and then my hand was placed upon the short, very thick stub of her erect cock, then down lower, between two pendulous labia, the shallow crevice that was her vagina, then back again to her cock. ‘Take it in your mouth,’ she said to me angrily. I felt the pressure against my lips. ‘Take it!’ she demanded.
“I did the only thing I could do. I opened my mouth, and when she shoved her cock into it I bit down with all my might and main. I heard her howl but I hung on. And there came into my mouth a copious flow of electrifying blood such as I never expected—and madly I hung on.
“I bore down with my teeth and the blood, this liquid fire, streamed into me. It poured down my throat. I swallowed without meaning to swallow. It was as if my body, once drained by her, could not resist it, and suddenly I realized that her hands were cradling my head and her howling was laughter and that the blood was not blood as I knew it but a great rush of stimulating fluid that seemed to come from her heart and her brain.
“Know me. Know who I am! This she said to me, and there came a rush of knowledge into me which I couldn’t deny. I would have turned away from it if I could. I hated her that much. But I couldn’t turn away, and now I couldn’t let go.
“Long, long centuries ago she had been born to an actress mother and a gladiator father in the Rome of Caesar, a freakish child, half male, half female, a thing to be destroyed by ordinary parents but kept by hers for the theater, in which she grew to be a gladiator of great strength by the age of fourteen.
“Before that point, a thousand times she’d been shown privately to those who could pay for it, for those who wanted to touch her and have her touch them. Never had she known love for her own sake, or privacy, or a moment of delicacy, or