Blood & Dust. Jason Nahrung
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up behind him, but she and the room quickly faded as his senses submerged into Kala, only Kala. His hands tightened on her firm body, desperate to feel her against him. His tongue lapped her skin and he tasted salt and soap; he smelled coffee and Vegemite and a rising musk that brought saliva gushing to his mouth. He kissed her tight flesh, burning against his lips. She gasped. He licked the pulsing artery, felt her windpipe bobbing with her ragged breath. Blood rushed through her carotid, thrust in a high-pressure stream from the heart. It thundered past like a coal train, then ran back along the jugular. His kiss became more desperate, making her whimper as his lips and tongue probed her skin. His teeth teased, drew a fold of flesh, squeezed, found the artery and held its delicate rush. Squeezed harder. Her back arched, thrusting herself into him, her hand a claw on his neck. There was a sudden throb of gum and tooth. She cried out under him. The gush filled his mouth with salty life. He sucked and sucked, deluged in a scarlet flood that swept away all reason, all awareness, sent him plunging into a whirlpool of desperate, crimson need. Buried in Kala, taking her into himself, Kevin fell into her kaleidoscope of memories, living each moment as though he was her, as they shuttered past, snap-snap-snap, dreamlike but all too real.
Everything is white except her and the road accident victim lying in the bed. Her uniform, the walls, floor, sheets: white. The patient is surrounded by machines, tubes, stands of dangling plastic bags.
Kevin's hand - the dark-skinned fingers long and thin, nails trimmed and neat, but yet undeniably his - reaches down to close the patient's staring eyes. The man blinks.
Snap
Taipan looms over him, thrusting, stoking the rising orgasm to the point where his body is just one, long scream. Taipan's face leans close, fangs glistening with drool, and the pain and pleasure take him higher than he ever thought possible.
Snap
The night is cold against his face, the bike vibrating between his legs, his hands clinging to the solid mass of leather in front as they ride under a full moon.
Snap
The bike stands nearby in a pine forest, the needles spiky and cold under his bare flesh as Taipan dribbles blood from his wrist into Kevin's hungry mouth. Two fingers of Taipan's other hand work between Kevin's legs, igniting a second fire. His strength grows with every scarlet drop he imbibes.
Snap
Taipan looks up, chin streaked with blood, eyes bloodshot, skin glowing. 'What did you just say?'
'I've had enough.' Kevin's voice is strangely yet familiarly feminine. 'I can't go on like this.'
Taipan answers, 'I need what they got.'
'I should be enough for you.'
Taipan stares and the accusation is plain enough to see.
Despair, fear, loneliness rise like bile. Without Taipan, what will he do? What will he be?
And then he gets the call - Taipan's call. And here he is.
Snap
TWELVE
Kevin stared up at the plastic light shade in the centre of the ceiling. He was on the floor, pain in the back of his head fading quickly. Acacia stood nearby with a broken cricket stump in one hand. She still had the pointy end, he noticed.
'Welcome back,' she said as she took a seat on the sofa.
Another piece of stump lay on the floor near him.
'Kala?' he asked, his voice thick, tongue heavy with blood aftertaste. His body was flushed, excited, eager. Yet he felt ashamed; Kala's lifestream still eddied through him, the emotions raw and powerful, making him feel like a trespasser. A trespasser or worse.
'She's okay. I had to let you know when you'd had enough, was all. Just a little whack. No permanent damage done. To either of you.'
Kevin sat up, dizzy with the sudden movement.
'You might like to change.' Acacia pointed at his crotch with the stump.
Splashes of blood spotted his chest; the front of his jeans showed a moist stain. He felt the cold stickiness followed by the burn of embarrassment in his cheeks.
'It happens, but it won't, not as often. After a while, it's all about the blood. Just the blood.' She sounded sorrowful.
Kevin stood, grateful no-one else was around, and went to the bathroom. His nose twitched at the assault of smells - disinfectant, soap, a touch of wood rot, urine. He rinsed his pants, his groin, his face, aware of red cheeks and lips all crazed in the mirror shards on the wall, the whites of his eyes showing bloodshot and pink. He returned to the lounge room where Acacia gave him the once over, then nodded her approval as he headed for the veranda. He hesitated at the door when he saw Kala leaning against the railing. Low, grey clouds promised rain. Storm birds called, answered by the harsh scream of a white cockatoo. It should have been just a normal day, an exciting day with the chance of a break in the long dry, but given what had just happened - the clammy wetness between his legs - it felt untrustworthy. You couldn't drink - feast - on someone's blood and then walk out to an ordinary world.
Kala smiled at him, then turned away. 'You can get away with a bit of sunlight when you're green, but the longer you go, the harder it gets. Just watch out that the sunburn doesn't creep up on you.'
'What happens then?'
'You've seen the movies, eh? Kaboom!' She clapped her hands and he flinched.
'You're kidding, right?'
'Yeah, I am. It's just slow and painful and messy. No fireworks.'
He walked over to stand beside her, his hands on the rail. Eyeing the thick clouds, he imagined the sun on the other side, straining to reach through to fry him. His skin crawled, but it was more the swelter of an open oven rather than the blow torch of impending incineration. The discomfort eased as he took in the view, each detail so clear, the line of trees marking the creek as sharp as a cut-out, the breeze cool and refreshing and smelling of rain. Kala's scent rose to tease him, musky and spiced with fresh blood. She'd put her shirt back on, her bare arms pimpled by the chill. A thick patch of sticking plaster covered the left side of her throat. Her skin was pallid, her eyes dark-rimmed.
Kevin swallowed, tore his eyes from the plaster. 'Did I hurt you?'
'I'm used to it,' she said, gaze fixed ahead. 'A couple of big steaks and I'll be fine.'
'I guess I need to thank you.'
'Feeling better?'
'The best.' He gave a nervous laugh.
She turned, grinning, her teeth so white. 'I'm good.'
He looked away, but she kept staring at him until he chuckled. 'Yeah, you're good.'
She asked in a low voice, 'What did you see, you know, inside me?'
'I saw Taipan give you his blood.'
'The secret to my youthful complexion.' She laughed, a touch of bitterness at the fringe, and then grew serious, moving to put her arm around him, her breast pressing against his bicep, her fingers cold. 'Sharing blood's as close as you can get to another person. It's an act of trust.'
If you tell Taipan what we've just done, you and me, he'll kill you
'You okay?' she asked.
'Flashback,' he said. 'Whew. Just between you and me.' His stomach turned with the poison of deceit, even if he didn't fully understand it. 'I promise.'
Nigel leaned through the doorway. 'Sorry to crash the party, but Acacia wants us out the front. Someone's coming.'
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