Elegant The bone-chilling rush of air was easily ignored in the excitement of
flight. Alex had realized early on that they weren't truly flying,
but it was still an exhilarating experience every time Trevor took hold
of his waist and leaped off a building. Then gliding on a current
of air before swooping up or down to land on another rooftop. One
corner of his mind reeled, trying to figure out how it worked. But
the rest of him just went with the flow, wishing he could do this without
Trevor's help.
Standing at the edge of the roof of a particularly tall building, Trevor
turned to Alex. "We're almost there, my pet. You'll be inside,
all toasty warm in just a moment."
Dizzy from the height and the cold and all that had happened to him
tonight, Alex could only nod. He sniffled and noticed that he really
couldn't feel his nose or ears anymore. And he knew, intellectually,
that that should worry him, but something dark surged through his veins,
wiping out such mundane concerns as hypothermia and frostbite. He
was burning.
"Close your eyes."
Alex jerked his head around to Trevor, and asked for the first time,
"Why?"
Raised eyebrows, lips twitching with...amusement? Trevor unbuttoned
the bottom half of Alex's coat and slipped his hands inside, cradling Alex's
hips and pulling him closer, until the front of their bodies were pressed
together. His low voice seemed to resonate inside Alex's skull when
he said, "Close your eyes or I will toss you over."
Given such a choice, Alex did as he was told, but he did say, "I'd take
you with me."
"I'm sure you'd try, my pet." Trevor's mouth descended on his
throat, drawing a moan of anticipation that Alex didn't even try to stop.
Holding his breath, he waited for the needle-sharp slide of fangs, the
rush of sensation, the pleasantly lusty wave of dark energy that would
pick him up and toss him around the cosmos before setting him back on terra
firma.
It didn't come. All he felt were cool lips kissing him and a wet
velvet tongue licking him. It was nice and stirred up his blood in
the utterly predictable way, but it didn't distract him from the icy wind
that buffered him or the awareness of the drop that waited just inches
from his feet. The hands that circled round and settled on his ass
almost did the trick, but not quite. The grip tightened almost
painfully and he could feel Trevor's whole body tense against him, and
then...
Alex was falling, plummeting downward at such a speed that he couldn't
have opened his eyes if he'd wanted to. He grappled desperately for
a hold on the slippery leather on Trevor's back, finally gripping his prosthetic
hand with his good hand and hoping the straps and buckles held under the
strain.
"You—" Alex couldn't think of anything vile enough in English so he
spit out the first Russian curse that sprang to mind. He refused
to be surprised when Trevor answered him back in Russian (something about
his grandmother and a chicken) and kissed him on both cheeks.
Trevor stepped back with a smirk and walked away, toward a little shed
in the far corner of the roof. When he got there, he opened the big
metal door and curled his fingers toward Alex like some B-movie Dracula.
On general principle, Alex counted to fifteen before complying with
the unspoken request. He ignored Trevor's low chuckle as he walked
by him into a faintly lit stairwell, and he stood aside and let him lead
the way down the steps.
Two flights of stairs led them into a dark hallway, which in turn led
into an elegantly—if gothically—decorated bar. Gargoyles and bats
seemed to be a recurring part of the theme, but none of it was as cheesy
as one might expect. The patrons seemed to wear mostly black, charcoal,
scarlet, and maroon, and Alex was willing to bet that among all the silver
and pewter, onyx and ruby jewelry there'd be not a single cross or crucifix.
He cast a questioning glance at Trevor who shrugged, "Pretenders only.
For the most part."
Alex wondered what they were waiting for as they hovered at the edge
of the room, and then he saw her and he knew.
A woman in a long silvery-grey gown glided toward them as if her feet
didn't quite touch the floor. She held herself with the regal bearing
of a princess who'd never, ever questioned her right to the throne.
Her hair was done up in hundreds—maybe thousands— of skinny braids, so
shiny black that they almost sparkled blue. They reached all the
way to her waist and caressed her bare shoulders like a silken cape.
Alex felt an overwhelming desire to touch it, touch her, and then he
looked at her face. Smooth ebony skin—just like Trevor had promised—and
slick red lips parting to reveal just a hint of sharp teeth, and he wanted
her. Simple as that, he'd have tilted his neck and begged her to
take him...except for Trevor's hand squeezing his ass in a bruising grip.
Unable to look away from the goddess before him, Alex allowed his attention
to shift just enough to be aware of Trevor in his peripheral vision.
The vampire was grinning as if he knew and enjoyed every reaction that
Alex was having.
Bowing ever so slightly, Trevor took her hand in his and kissed the
inside of her wrist, with just a hint of teeth and tongue Alex was almost
certain. "Clea, my sweet, I would like you to meet Alex, my newest
pet. I suspect that he is mostly housebroken."
"It's a pleasure to meet you, Alex." Her voice was almost too
high, with a musical tinkle in the words. He didn't care if that
usually got on his nerves, he still wanted her.
"I assure you the pleasure is all mine, Clea." His voice, on the
other hand, came out in a croak. She held out her hand with that
same curious not quite smile, and he took it in his, cursing the glove
he hadn't had time to remove. He pressed his lips to the back of
her hand, surreptitiously inhaling her sweet scent.
When a cool hand clamped forcefully onto the back of his neck, Alex
released her hand and looked at Trevor who pursed his lips slightly as
he said, "Don't get carried away."
Alex narrowed his eyes and considered several replies, but a certain
spark in Trevor's eye told him not to push it, so he tilted his head in
a gesture that could signal acquiescence or could be a polite invitation
to fuck off. Trevor accepted both meanings with a nod and a slight
smile.
Clea showed them to a plush corner booth that had a clear view of the
small stage on one wall, stared into Trevor's eyes and into Alex's, and
then went away.
"She doesn't have to ask." Trevor explained, waving a hand vaguely.
"That's her...thing."
"She's a vampire. And you made her that way."
"I did. She's...well, look at her. Shouldn't such beauty
be truly timeless?" Trevor stroked the tips of his fingers down Alex's
cheek and then tipped his chin up. "You might get the gift for that
alone. She wanted it for other reasons, as I suspect, you do."
"You don't have to 'suspect'. You read me, didn't you?"
"A summary only, not the whole story." Taking his hand away from
Alex's face, Trevor looked uncomfortable for the first time that night
and admitted, "You hide yourself well, Alex. I'm not...certain...
Ah, no matter. We're here."
Alex watched the uncertainty slip away and sensual teasing come back
into Trevor's pale eyes. Under the table, a hand slid up the length
of his thigh, but before it reached his groin, it withdrew. Alex
didn't have time to be disappointed, because a waif-like girl in a short
black dress appeared beside their table holding a serving tray. She
set a cup of coffee and a bowl of soup in front of Alex, and a glass of
dark red liquid in front of Trevor.
"Is that blood?" Alex took a long drink of his coffee and finally
felt warm enough to take his coat off, as Trevor had done as soon as they
sat down. His attention snagged on the tattoo that wound around Trevor's
right forearm, a red, yellow, and black coral snake. The head was
on the back of his wrist so that the emerald green eyes seemed to be staring
in whatever direction Trevor's hand was pointed. The tail of the
snake rested in the soft crook of Trevor's elbow. Alex was so caught
up in the artwork—and the amount of pain it must have cost—that he almost
forgot that he'd asked a question until Trevor answered him.
"No, it's wine." Trevor took a sip and appeared to roll it over
his tongue before deciding, "An excellent vintage as such things go.
I enjoyed my taste of you ever so much more. Nothing in this world
compares to blood fresh from a warm and willing body." He leaned
close to Alex, his nose almost touching Alex's collar, and sniffed deeply.
Alex started to ask what that was all about, but decided he didn't need
to know. The hand was back on his thigh, moving at a glacial speed
toward where he wanted it.
"Eat your soup, my pet. You need to rebuild your strength."
The hand under the table moved a bit faster, and Trevor looked up at him
from under his hair and said, "You'll need it."
Alex didn't doubt it, so took a bite of the chicken soup, which turned
out to be hot, filling, and very tasty. Before he knew it, he'd finished
the entire bowl and was getting his coffee cup refilled by a different
waif-like girl in a short black dress. She also set a glass of vodka
in front of him that, he discovered upon tasting, was exactly the icy temperature
that he liked.
He looked up and found Clea watching him from a few feet away with a
self-satisfied expression in her dark eyes. He gallantly toasted
her with his glass, and she responded with a regal nod. Then he watched
her turn and walk over to the stage, the shimmer of her gown highlighting
every graceful curve of her body.
A pale, thin young man—Alex was sensing a pattern here—sat down at
a baby grand piano and started to play a romantic melody. Alex was
more interested in the hand on his thigh than the music until Clea stepped
up to the microphone, then he finished his drink and sat back next to Trevor
who kept his hand in its intimate position. She sang an old-style
torch song, and she looked so beautifully tortured while doing it that
he could ignore the times she went flat or failed to hit the right note
entirely.
"She sings with more feeling than skill, yes?"
"She's magnificent."
"You will never have her. Dash your hopes now."
"Why?" Alex didn't bother to hold back his sneer as he asked,
"You don't share?"
"No. The blood on your collar marks you as mine for every vampire
in the place."
Alex looked around and tried to separate the real vampires from the
goth wannabes. It was like some surreal underworld version of that
old game show 'To Tell the Truth'. "I thought you said they were
pretenders."
"Most. There are some in here who are quite real, but none of
them would touch you...tonight." Trevor licked his lips and glanced
at a male-female couple a few tables over who'd been giving Alex looks
that they'd both been ignoring. "Some other night, when I am not
with you, they might try."
"So I'd better add a stake to my arsenal. Any particular kind
of wood work best? Cedar? Oak? Ash?"
"No, it's your choice." Trevor smiled, but in his eyes, there
was a little flash of worry before he turned his attention back to Clea's
performance.
The rush of power that Alex felt at being able to put a scare, however
small, into a fucking vampire was almost orgasmic. He'd been half-aroused
the whole time they'd been here, just from the combined sensuality of Trevor's
closeness and Clea's beauty, but now he went fully erect and aching inside
the sudden tightness of his pants.
Trevor sniffed and turned his head to Alex, eyes wide and mouth open,
his tongue resting on the edge of his bottom teeth as if tasting the air.
His gaze went directly to Alex's lap, even though it was hidden by the
table cloth. Leaning closer to Alex, he took a deeper breath and
almost hummed with satisfaction. He licked at Alex's ear and whispered,
"Just enjoy the show."
And before Alex could respond, Trevor buried his nose in the crook of
Alex's neck, rasping his tongue over his collar. He lowered the zipper
on Alex's pants and then lowered his head to take Alex's throbbing cock
between his lips. Painfully slow, wet slide—no fangs, not yet—and
Alex kept his eyes on the woman on the stage because if he looked down
he would come too soon. He'd never been able to watch. It was
the one thing that was just too damn much for him. The heat engulfing
him was a surprise considering the nature of the man who sucked him in
so expertly, and Alex had to wonder if it was the heat of his own blood
in Trevor's veins that fed that warmth.
That thought alone was almost enough to push him over the edge, but
then he looked directly into Clea's eyes as she ended a sad, sad song on
a broken high note and the knowledge was there. Oh she knew, knew
what Trevor was doing, what Alex was feeling, she knew it all. And
Alex held her gaze for an impossibly long moment as he arched his hips
ever so slightly and came down Trevor's throat. His smile matched
hers in ferocity and then Trevor was sitting up and kissing him.
Wet lips on his, the exotic taste of his own come on Trevor's tongue, the
sharp stab of a fang into his bottom lip, the more common taste of his
own blood before it was sucked out of his mouth... All that drove
the woman out of Alex's consciousness as he closed his eyes and surrendered
for just a moment to this ostentatious display of ownership.
When Trevor pulled away, Alex opened his eyes and cocked his head at
him. "Make your point, Trevor?"
"Always, my pet." Wiping at the corner of his mouth with his thumb,
Trevor smiled, showing normal human teeth, and drank the last of his wine.
Immediately a waif-tress showed up with a fresh glass, then faded away,
leaving them alone again.
"What do you want?"
Trevor took a long drink from his wineglass, and said blandly, "That's
a wide open question."
"In reciprocation."
"Ahhh...well, let's not be too obvious, shall we?"
"If you're too oblique, you might not get anything."
"Your apparent concern touches me deeply, my pet, but not to worry,
I get something out of everything."
Alex stared hard at his companion, trying to read anything at all in
the placid exterior. He hated not knowing the score at any given
moment. Everything in life was a transaction, and he always wanted
to know the cost. He flexed his shoulder to move his left hand from
the tabletop to his lap.
Trevor drank the rest of his wine, and asked, "Are you ready to go?"
"Where to this time?" Alex slipped his coat on and saw Trevor glance
at his watch.
"Where are you staying?"
Alex shrugged and answered vaguely, "At a hotel."
Trevor considered that for a moment then shook his head. "No,
too many people nearby and the walls are likely to be too thin. We'll
go to my place."
While Alex contemplated the significance of thin walls and nosy neighbors,
Trevor stood up, put on his coat and motioned Alex to his feet. Taking
Alex's face in his hand, Trevor looked at him so intently that Alex swore
that for a moment his eyes glowed. When he spoke, his voice was soft
but Alex could feel it vibrating inside him right down to the cellular
level. "Do not worry about anything, my pet. Trust me."
Alex felt his few misgivings sliding away from his consciousness no
matter how hard he tried to hold onto them and gasped, "You son of a bitch."
Trevor chuckled and said, "That may very well be, my pet, but what does
that make you?"
Permanent Midnight VI
by Amy B
After all is done, we're alone
I won't be taken, yet I'll go
—Garden, Pearl Jam
Trevor pulled his mouth free and laughed—the bastard—laughed long
and breathlessly before forcefully tilting both their bodies into a curving
swoop that slowed their descent and brought them down to another roof with
a jarring thump that almost knocked Alex's knees out from under him.
