A Coven of Vampires by Brian Lumley Read Free Book Online

typically open. “A Hrossak. I was set upon by the same pack of hairies who…happened your way. They robbed me. Aye, and they put an arrow in my back, too. Hence my stiffness. I was tracking them back to Chlangi when I found you. Which makes you a complication. Now I have your skin to consider as well as my own. Mine’s not worth a lot to anyone, but yours…?” He shrugged.
    She sat up, more stiffly than Tarra, and the blanket fell away from her. Under the bruises she was incredibly lovely. Her beauty was…unearthly.
    “Come,” she held out a marble arm. “Let me see your back.”
    “What can you do?” he asked. “It’s a hole, that’s all.” But he went to her anyway. On hands and knees he looked at her, close up, then turned his back and sat down. He unfastened the straps holding his empty scabbard in place, and her hands were so gentle he didn’t even feel her take the scabbard away.
    And anyway—what could she do? She had no unguents or salves, not even a vinegar-soaked pad.
    And yet…Tarra relaxed, sighed, felt the pain going out of his shoulder as easy as the air went out of his lungs. Well, now he knew what she could do. Ointments, balms?— hah! She had fingers, didn’t she? And now Tarra believed he knew her order: she was a healer, a very special sort of physician, a layer-on of hands. He’d heard of such but never seen one at work, never really believed. But seeing—or rather, feeling—was believing!
    “A pity you can’t do this for yourself,” he told her.
    “Oh, I shall heal, Tarra Khash,” she answered, her voice sibilant. “Out there in the desert, under the full moon, I was helpless, taken by surprise no less than you. Now I grow stronger. Your strength has become mine. For this I thank you.”
    Tarra’s voice was gruff now. “Huh! If you’d take some food you’d grow stronger faster!”
    “There is food and food, Tarra Khash,” she answered, her voice hypnotic in its caress. “For all you have offered, I am grateful.”
    Tarra’s senses were suddenly awash in warm, languid currents. Her hands had moved from his shoulder to his neck, where now they drew out every last trace of tension. Her head on his shoulder, she cradled his back with her naked breasts. He slumped—and at once jerked his head erect, or tried to. What had she been saying? Grateful for what he’d offered? “You’re welcome to whatever I have,” he mumbled, scarcely aware of her sharp intake of breath. “Not that there’s much….”
    “Oh, but there is! There is!” she whispered. “Much more than I need, and though I’m hungry I shall take very little. Sleep now, sleep little mortal, and when you wake seek out those men and take your vengeance—while yet you may. For if I find them first there’ll be precious little left for you!”
    Sweet sister of mercy? A healer? Layer-on of hands? Nay, none of these. Even sinking into uneasy slumbers, Tarra tried to turn his drowsy head and look at her, and failed. But he did force out one final question: “Who…
are you?”
    She lifted her mouth from his neck and his blood was fresh on her pale lips. “My name is Orbiquita!” she said—which was the last thing he heard before the darkness rolled over him. The last thing he felt was her hot, salty kiss….
    • • •
    “Lamia!” snapped Arenith Han, seer and rune-caster to the robber-king, Fregg, of doomed Chlangi. “She was a lamia, a man-lusting demon of the desert. You two are lucky to be alive!”
    It was Fregg’s dawn court, held in the open courtyard of his “palace”, once a splendid place but now a sagging pile in keeping with most of Chlangi’s buildings. Only the massive outer walls of the city itself were undecayed, for Fregg insisted that they at least be kept in good order. To this end he used “felons” from his court sessions, on those rare occasions when such escaped his “justice” with their lives intact.
    Chlangi’s monarch was one Fregg Unst, a failed con man long, long