Ben had never wanted to return to Mason’s Park.
It wasn’t the dark, although it was darker here than the streets and alleys. The sporadic street lamps that dotted the pathways did not penetrate the thick forest beyond the jogging path. It wasn’t even the alarming crack as a twig snapped, or the shuffle of movement―animal or other―within the woods. The ever-shifting branches overhead were just background noise.
Ben didn’t need a torch to light his way or vampire senses to guide him. He had walked this path many, many times since that first panicked race to reach Nate before he died, retracing his steps over and over, searching for the thing he’d not done that might have changed everything. As Ben stepped into the clearing before the oak, he half expected to see Nate sprawled on the ground, his skin turned white by the moonlight into a mockery of bone, and his throat slit. The air seemed to be thick with copper. Ben choked on it, tasting blood. Nate―
It wasn’t just that he’d failed to protect him. Ben forced himself forward until he stood where he’d stood, looking down at Nate’s corpse. It was that Ben had left him―and Nate had known he’d left him.
I didn’t know. Ben saw Nate again, still and growing cold, his blood sickly sweet and congealing, calling to the vampire within Ben to feast. He was dead. Should have been dead. But all that time he’d been aware of every action Ben took―or didn’t take.
“If I’d known, I’d never have left you.” Ben’s words, so much louder than the surrounding night, startled him. Stupid! You’re no longer a vampire! You have to be careful. You can’t give your location away to any predator within listening distance like this―
Ben felt an angry stinging in his eyes. Who cares if a revenant does find me? Nate wasn’t here. He’d failed to find him. Failed to find him a second time, from an even more pointed danger. Nate’s unsuspected inhuman nature had protected him against a human death, but from Sandy―
“You came.” Nate’s voice sounded hollow.
Ben’s gaze jerked up, from the dirt to the branches of the oak. In the hollow formed by diverging branches, Nate sat next to a scrubby looking bush. A flying rowan. It had protected the two of them once from Peter’s threats. Something in Ben eased at the sight of Nate, and he blinked hastily. I’m not too late.
“How did you know I’d be here?” Nate shook his head. “How did you know I needed you?”
The first time he and Nate had sheltered by the oak, Ben’s vampire strength had enabled himself to scale the oak without difficulty. Now, Ben was left at the bottom, looking up at Nate. “Are you drunk? You don’t sound like yourself.”
“No, I―can’t think straight. Give me a moment.”
Ben, looking up, had a moment’s warning. He stepped back.
Nate dropped heavily out of the tree, landing on his feet, but stumbling forward onto one knee.
Ben caught him by his shoulder. “Are you okay?”
Nate didn’t try to stand. “I can’t think. My thoughts keep hitting a wall.”
“What’s happened?” Had Sandy attacked Nate? Ben stepped back, scanning Nate for injury. “Are you hurt?”
“Not physically.” Nate wrapped his arms around himself. “But I feel like the rug’s been pulled out from under my entire identity.” He looked up at Ben. “I was nobody before Sandy loved me, nobody. And you were right. He was using me the entire time. He never felt anything for me at all.”
Ben winced. Nate should never sound so lost. “Aki said he came to see you at Century.”
“At first it was great. I never really expected him to look me up. Thought he was just making conversation back in Little River. Seeing him again, seeing his interest in me… I was just so happy. It was more proof that he couldn’t be connected to what happened in Little River. I figured the agent would be trying to get as far away from anything to do with us as possible because he’d know we’d be on our guard. So yeah, I had my guard down. I was relaxed and just enjoying seeing him―” Nate winced. “I was about two seconds away from telling him about all the crazy shit that he’d missed in Little River when he kissed me―just like I’d always wanted him to kiss me. And while I was still trying to get my head around it, he told me he’d been waiting ten years for that kiss. That he’d freaked out when he realized just how young I was. But he’d left to protect me. And that he’d never forgotten me once over the years, and at first, he’d meant to come back, but then he’d worried that maybe I’d misconstrued his leaving or found someone else.”
Ben listened. Every word Nate spoke felt like a nail in his coffin. He clenched his fists, unable to act or speak the fear he felt.
“It was everything I’d ever wanted to hear.” There was a note of wonder in Nate’s voice that hurt more than any harsh words they’d ever exchanged. “Being with Sandy again― I was taller, but apart from that, it was like nothing had changed. Like he’d never left. He told me exactly what I needed to hear. And if I hadn’t met you, I’d probably have fallen for it.”
Ben’s frozen heart sputtered back into life in an explosive burst. “Nate―”
Nate put his hand over Ben’s on his shoulder. “He came on too strong―way too strong. Pushed to get me to meet him alone. Said he needed to know if there was still a chance for us.” Nate looked anxiously at Ben. “I said yes just to get him to go. I needed time to think.”
“And that’s why you came here.”
Nate slowly got to his feet. “This oak has protected me more than once. It helped me figure out a way to find you. But now―I don’t know what to do.” Nate placed a hand against the oak’s trunk. “I’m scared. I don’t know if I can face him again, but if I don’t…” Nate turned to Ben. “He’s going to kill someone else, isn’t he?”
Ben rested his hands in the pockets of his jeans, where Nate wouldn’t see that they were clenched. “Yes. He is.”
“God.” Nate placed a hand over his face. “That should be all the reason I need to act, and I still can’t. Here I am, thinking I had anything at all to offer you and everything about me is a lie. I’m not human, I’m not brave, I’m not―anything.”
“You’re the best thing that’s ever happened to me― Listen to me, Nate!” Ben gripped his arm. “You’re kind, confident, attractive, smart in ways that can’t be measured by university degrees, sexy―”
“But none of that is real! My confidence is built around an empty shell. Sandy made me believe I was worth loving―”
“You are worth loving. Look at me.” Ben reached up, pulling Nate’s hand away, so their eyes met. “You were kind before you met Sandy. I saw it in the photo albums, Nate. Those photos of an anxious thirteen-year-old, who didn’t dare reach out to the classmates he wanted to befriend. Even when you were too shy to talk to people, you still watched them, you listened, you learned them. I bet you spent more time thinking of your classmates than they ever did you. That’s where your understanding of people comes from, Nate―you.” Ben thumped Nate on the shoulder. “Your knowledge of how to make people happy, that comes from being unhappy yourself and knowing just what the right gesture can do for someone. It was your choice to act on that knowledge to help people―and their happiness that gave you your confidence in yourself.”
“Sandy―”
“Maybe Sandy sped up the process,” Ben said firmly. “But it was always there inside you.” He squeezed Nate’s shoulder. “Think about it. You meet a lot of people at Century with broken hearts. How many of them are confident because of it?”
Nate blinked. There was a new light in his eyes, and he gave Ben a thoughtful look. “They’re upset and angry, wanting revenge. Or their confidence is shattered, and they need help rediscovering themselves.”
“The opposite of confidence. That didn’t come from Sandy, Nate. That came from you.”
Nate shut his eyes. His hand rested heavily on Ben’s shoulder as he took a deep breath and let it out deliberately. “Thanks. I―needed to hear that.” When he opened his eyes, there was purpose in them. “I know what I have to do now.”
“And that is…?”
“Confront Sandy.”
“We can call Department Seven. Leave it to them.” Ben pulled out his phone. “Gunn is already scouring the city for you―”
Nate put his hand over Ben’s, preventing him from dialing. “I have to do this. Department Seven will just scare him off, and he’ll start again with another victim. That’s what happened to George, right? Sandy tried to use her as his next victim.”
“George thought she had a way to end the demon itself,” Ben said. “We won’t know what happened until she wakes up.”
“But if Sandy thinks he has a chance with me, I can keep him on the line until his time runs out.” Nate looked at Ben. “He can’t have too much time left, right?”
Ben stared at Nate. “Are you―sure?” Nate had felt sorry for Peter, a guy actively trying to kill them both. “He’ll beg you to save his life. Try anything that might persuade you―”
“Come with me?” Nate’s hand was still on Ben’s. “I know it’s a bad idea. But at the same time― I can’t let him hurt anyone else.” Nate looked down. His hair fell across his eyes, screening them from Ben. “I’m afraid you’re right. That he’s going to persuade me that my life is nothing without him, that it’s a fair trade, my life for his. You― I need you there. To be stronger than I am.”
His skin was cold, but his hands were steady. Nate seemed decided.
No way I’m letting him do this alone. Ben dropped his phone in his pocket. “Lead the way.”
✩✩✩
Sandy waited in a warehouse a fifteen-minute walk south of Century. Ben frowned at the building. If only it was farther away. The rough plan that he and Nate had hashed out and communicated to Gunn felt incredibly inadequate as he stood beside Nate. “You’re sure this is it?”
“The door’s open. It’s got to be.” Nate’s tone was strained, and he wiped his hands on his jeans before he stepped forward.
Ben followed suit, grabbing Nate’s hand as he did. He squeezed it, guessing that Nate would benefit from the tactile reassurance. “We’ve got this.”
He hoped Nate believed him. Ben was not entirely sure he believed himself.
The warehouse was pitch dark, except for the squares of light, outlined with precision on the warehouse floor, thanks to the street light positioned immediately outside. It looked too perfectly delineated to be real as if they’d wandered into an old detective comic strip. Ben looked around, half expecting to smell cigar smoke or see a fedora-wearing gunman slide out from behind one of the packing crates.
Instead, Sandy sat on one of the crates, waiting for them to approach. He was younger than Ben had expected, his fine blond dreads gathered back in a loose ponytail. He had fine, delicate eyebrows, studded with metal, and his green eyes sparkled, even in the darkly lit warehouse. He was lean and confident, a smile of almost playful amusement tugging at his mouth as they approached. His eyes flicked up and down over Ben, and his smile twisted scornfully. But as quickly as Ben had registered it, the smile was gone, Sandy grinning as he fastened his gaze on Nate.
“I’m so glad you came, Nate.” Even his voice was nice, light, softly spoken but calculated to charm. “And brought your―boyfriend?”
Nate shot Ben a startled glance. There was no way that Sandy would be happy about this news―and yet he sounded interested. “We’re not― It’s sort of―”
“We’re dating.” Ben left no hesitation in his reply. Sandy was dangerous in a way that only a demonic agent was dangerous. The less uncertainty Nate possessed in facing him, the better. Ben let his hand rest on Nate’s arm. I am not giving this man any weapon against Nate.
But Sandy’s grin caught them both by surprise. His words were disarmingly frank. “I wondered! Your angry friend at the club wasted no time in telling me I didn’t have a chance―”
Ben blinked. Thanks, Aki?
“But I still had to try. You were my last hope, Nate… But enough of me. You’re here to tell me I’m out of luck?”
The look Nate sent Ben was entirely confused. Ben didn’t blame him. In all the scenarios they’d discussed on the walk to the warehouse, Sandy’s blithe acceptance of his horrible fate wasn’t one of them.
Ben frowned, shaking his head. It was a trap. “What do you mean by ‘out of luck’?” The important thing was to keep him talking.
Sandy’s smile was secretive. “I knew my luck would run out eventually. It always does,” he confessed. “And I always knew it would be you.” He looked directly at Nate. “No more fitting penance for my sins than to die by the action of the one I love.”
“You know why we’re here?” Nate gripped Ben’s arm. “And you’re not angry?”
Sandy shook his head, his dreadlocks swaying. “I could never be angry at you. Honestly, I’ve been praying for someone stronger than myself to put an end to this nightmare.”
“Praying?” Ben didn’t take his eyes off Sandy. “You made a demonic pact.”
Sandy’s eyes flicked back to Ben for the briefest moment. Ben was pretty sure he saw contempt before Sandy turned back to Nate. His tone was confiding. “You don’t know this―nobody alive knows this―but I was brought up religious. Now, I guess you’d call it a cult. Back then, it was the only way of life I knew. Our town’s name was Worthy, and that’s what we were―the select few, worthy of being saved―so long as we listened to everything our prophet said. He had a direct line to God, so he said, and wasted no time in passing on His decrees. Rules like don’t make eye contact with a woman not your wife, don’t speak to anyone outside the community, only read books chosen for us by an Elder and work, work, work because the only thing that would save us was our obedience.
Sandy settled himself more comfortably on the crate. “My father was found to be unworthy and cast out, and my uncle became the head of our family. He took his new responsibilities seriously, very seriously. He could see that I was troubled in mind, and me being a teenager, I expect he thought he knew the cause. He recommended what had helped him―confessing all to the prophet and working through my allotted punishment.” Sandy’s mouth twisted. “I guess they were expecting me to confess to seeing a bare ankle or having impure thoughts such as wanting to talk to a girl. Liking boys? That was more than they knew how to handle.”
Beside Ben, Nate shifted. “What did they do to you? Cast you out?”
Fuck. Sandy’s too good at this. Nate sounded worried. Ben tightened his grip on Nate’s hand in warning.
“And expose me to a world where I might act out my perverse desires? Not on your life, Nate.” Sandy’s shoulders drooped. “I was beaten and then imprisoned. When neither of those worked, I was exorcised. Nothing happened, so the prophet concluded that I must be complicit in my perversion and punished accordingly. It was left for God to judge me, so the prophet and his elders took me into the forest where I would be left, without food or water, for God to consider my case and decide whether I should live or die. And to help God make the right decision, they beat me. This time they didn’t hold back. They left me dying in those hills, with not another soul to help me―or so they thought.”
The warehouse was stock silent. Ben was aware that Nate was listening intently, just as he was. Snap out of it! He directed his anger into a study of his surroundings. Brimstone undercut the stale smell of the warehouse, as did another smell―fresh paint? Ben looked around the shadows, wishing he’d brought a flashlight. Sandy could have drawn his circle anywhere…
“So there I was, waiting to die, thinking of all the things I’d never have― The love of another person. Freedom to live as myself. Turning twenty. Drinking alcohol. Seeing someplace that wasn’t mountains. This fox came up to me, started talking. I was that far gone that I didn’t even think how weird it was. A pattern came into my head. If I drew it, I’d be free, and everything I wanted would be mine.”
Sandy frowned. “I’m not entirely sure what happened after that. I’ve spent eighty years trying to forget. I know my broken body was like new again and that when I walked back into Worthy I was greeted as a miracle―a sign. There was a celebration. No one wondered what I might be a sign of.” Sandy’s face was tinged with sorrow, and his eyes turned downward. “I shared my vision of the circle, and they wasted no time in drawing it. Big enough the entire community could stand in it. The prophet tried to warn them―for once in his life, he was right about something! But they didn’t listen. Me coming back in defiance of his ruling was a sign. They were already calling me the new prophet, and fool that I was, I believed that I was meant to lead them to a new life of freedom. I stood before them proudly as they assembled on the circle. For the first time ever I was accepted and adored. The fox was at my heel, telling me what to say in words that only I could hear. ‘Do you trust me?’ I asked my people. ‘Do you love me?’”
“Jesus, Sandy! They―?”
Ben winced at Nate’s words. No amount of warnings could stop Nate from feeling for people―even when it endangered himself. Sandy knows we know how the demon works. He must know he can’t trick us. But instead of searching for a new victim, Sandy was giving Nate his life history. It’s obviously a trap. The only question is how it is sprung.
“They all died.” Sandy shut his eyes. “All but the prophet. He damned me, cursed me, swore at me―called me demon spawn, accused me of consorting with the devil. And that’s when I understood what had happened to me.” Sandy slid off the crate. “Been running from it ever since, escaping it any way I can. Nothing deadens the knowledge of it, not for long. Nothing… But knowing there’s someone who genuinely cared about me might ease my passing.”
“Don’t take another step.” Ben pulled his phone out of his pocket. He hit the flashlight function, raising it up to illuminate the warehouse’s concrete floor.
There was nothing there. Nothing but bare concrete.
Am I wrong? Ben lifted the phone back and forth, searching for anything amiss. Sandy can’t be telling the truth― I know he isn’t! Demonic agents don’t give up. They have too much to lose… “He’s faking,” he warned Nate. “Smell the brimstone.”
He could feel it now, a dark presence in the shadows, a growing interest centered directly between his shoulder blades.
“My time is near,” Sandy told Nate. “Gaassimolar draws closer. That’s what you smell―him, coming for me. Look, I’ll prove that I’ve got nothing to hide.” He knelt to get something that clinked out of a satchel leaning against his crate. With the spray paint in hand, Sandy walked to one of the squares of light. “So you can see exactly what I’m doing.” Using the spray paint, he traced out the ritual circle without any hesitation at all.
Ben felt the hairs rise on his arms as he watched. He couldn’t help but wonder how many times Sandy had done this, for how many victims.
“There.” Sandy set the canister down and stepped into the finished circle. “Does this make you feel happier, Benjamin?”
“My name isn’t Benjamin.” Ben followed Nate over to where Sandy stood.
“Into the light.” Sandy beckoned them closer. “So you can see exactly what you’re getting into.” For a moment, his determined cheerfulness seemed strained. He was in command of himself before Ben even registered the thought. “Now. I know I have no right to ask this, and I don’t want to cause trouble between you and your boyfriend, but I have to know before I go. Was I ever anything to you?” As Nate hesitated, Sandy pressed on, his voice cracking with his emotional plea. “Please be honest― Give a doomed man on brief second of light. Make this entire wretched life have meant something―”
“Sandy―” No matter what doubts Ben had about Sandy’s sincerity, there was no mistaking that Nate was honestly conflicted. Ben could feel him waver, see his creased brow clear as a decision was reached. “I―”
“Don’t you dare, Nate.” Ben stepped deliberately on Nate’s foot. He hit dial on his phone.
Gunn answered immediately. “Are we allowed to join your party yet?”
“The lamp outside,” Ben ordered. “Kill it.”
He felt Nate’s start of surprise, saw Sandy grit his teeth, but before either of them could react, a shot rang out, followed by shattered glass and complete darkness.
No, not complete darkness. As the afterglow of the street light faded away, a muted glow was seen. Ben heard Nate shift, obviously looking down at the circle beneath his feet with shock. “Glow-in-the-dark paint?”
“Clever,” Ben said. “But not clever enough. Get out of―”
Sandy leaped towards Ben. “Don’t move.” His pleasantly mild speech gave way to a rough bark. He dug his fingers into Ben’s hair, jerking his head back. Ben felt the sharp edge of a knife across his throat. “Let there be light.”
With a faint crackle, that of a fire being stoked, the warehouse was perfectly illuminated.
“Ben!” Nate took a step towards them. “Let him go!”
“Move and he dies.” Sandy tightened his grip, drawing back and pulling Ben with him.
The edge of the knife had a compelling effect on Ben’s thoughts. It was hard to think beyond it. “This isn’t going to work, Sandy. You can’t extort Nate’s love―even if he still qualified as innocent.”
“Shows what you know.” Sandy tightened his grip on Ben’s hair, keeping him off balance. “Yeah, he’s not innocent now, but he was when we first found him. My master is curious to taste ten years of innocence betrayed. He’s granting me an exception to the normal rules.”
“An exception?” Nate sounded hopelessly lost.
Sandy shifted to look at him. “You should feel flattered. He’s never done this before. We put a lot of work into you, Nate, and he’s making you an offer he’s never given anyone else.”
Nate stood frozen in place in the glow-in-the-dark circle. “Ben―” He attempted to collect himself. “Even if I say the words, they won’t mean anything. They’re not true.”
Sandy’s grip tightened. “Don’t let a guy down easy, Nate. No, maybe you don’t love me, but I’m betting it’s a different story for this one.” The knife edge caught Ben’s skin. He felt a flash of pain, followed by an immediate wet heat. “What’s it going to be? Let two people die? Or do you want to save your boyfriend’s life?”
Nate made an instinctive movement towards them, checking himself on the brink of stepping out of the circle. “What do I have to do? Just say―?”
“The words,” Sandy avoided them deftly. “With all the conviction you can muster. If they mean anything, the circle activates.” His tone became persuasive. “Only you can make this choice.”
Why does Sandy dodge the words? Ben looked down and saw the spray-painted circle beneath his feet. Not going to get caught in his own trap. For a moment he saw again the wooden boards with his mother’s blood on them. “Don’t believe him. I have a history with this demon, too.”
Sandy tugged his hair warningly. “Don’t try to be clever.”
“It’s the truth. You feel it, don’t you?” Another presence could be felt, an awareness stirring in the shadows and throbbing through the lines of the circle beneath their feet. “It’s waited ten years for Nate, but it’s had longer for me―thirteen years.”
“What is three years to a demon? Nate―”
“I was younger, the betrayal of my feelings more complete.” With every word, Ben felt the hungry presence draw nearer. It had waited like this for him in the barn, would always wait. “I’ve never been able to say those words, to allow myself to feel for another. That― You won’t find pain like mine again,” he promised the unseen demon.
“It’s another trick!” Sandy’s voice was harsh. “Don’t listen to him!”
Hot air billowed around Ben’s ankles. The circle had begun to smoke and brimstone was in the air. “I was right. You do remember me.”
“It has to be a trick,” Sandy insisted. “No one willingly chooses this.” He spoke to the shadows, turning back to Ben with a snarl. “Listen. I call the shots here.”
The power surrounding them seemed to convert instantly to light and smoke. Flames licked the warehouse floor, trapping Nate in his circle as they burned in place. Ben felt heat at his legs and looked down to see the fire, burning black as the shadows but hot as any flame, surrounding him, too.
“Men have grown bold, Master,” Sandy wheedled. “Bold enough to think they can make a mockery of you. Time to show New Camden what it is to pick a fight with a demon.”
There was no audible response, but Ben, straining his senses for anything, thought he felt agreement in the air. Power surged. A sound followed. A drum―no, drums―building steadily closer. It was only when one screeched, that Ben recognized the sound as wings. Looking up, he saw that the window was outlined by a red glow beyond it. More flames? Shapes flew down, seemingly a swarm of giant bats. The shouts from outside were joined by the sound of rapid gunfire.
Ben’s blood surged in exultation. In the distraction of battle, I could take my choice of prey! Humans too distracted by the fight to notice their death behind them―
What the hell was that thought? Ben put a hand to his head, attempting to clear it.
“No sudden movements,” Sandy warned him. “Don’t expect any help from your friends outside.” The flames parted as Sandy stepped out of them, the knife remaining behind, hovering at Ben’s throat. “I’ve got power you’ve never even imagined.”
“Is that why you’re doing this?” Nate’s fists clenched again, this time with anger rather than alarm.
“When it’s kill or be killed, you find yourself doing things you never believed you could.” Sandy’s voice returned to its incongruously pleasant tone. “I’m not ready to die yet―even for you. So hurry, say the words, Nate. Don’t try to be clever. That girl, your friend, thought she could pull a fast one on me. She regrets that now.”
“Don’t talk about George like that!”
“Anyone stupid enough to challenge a demon head-on doesn’t deserve pity!” Sandy shook his head. “She had no chance―what use is a vampire in daylight?”
George’s secret weapon―could it be the vampire within her? Ben and Nate locked eyes, startled. Ben saw the alarm in Nate’s eyes, knew they were thinking the same thing.
It’s not daylight now.
Ben breathed in the spilled copper of his wound. The vampire was close to the surface, hungering for blood. Did the wound call it? The presence of a threat? Whatever the source, the vampire was ready to fight.
“Ben!” Nate’s tone broadcast his alarm loud and clear. “You can’t do this! I don’t want to lose you! I―need you.”
Ben smiled at Nate. The relief he felt―Nate remembered not to say it!―was greater even than the knife at his throat. “Me, too. Listen. You’ll have to trust me like I’m trusting you. You’ll make the right choice― I know you will.”
The circle throbbed beneath his feet as if it had a heartbeat.
“Don’t listen!” Sandy cried out. “Don’t accept him! Something’s not right― He’s too calm!”
“I am what you’ve made me,” Ben said. “It’s time we met.” He looked up, meeting Nate’s eyes. “I love you.”
✩✩✩
He was on fire from the inside out. Ben cried out, staggering onto one knee as molten pain wrapped around his chest. He felt it like fingers, squeezing at his heart, while simultaneously raking through his thoughts. His vision blurred, his consciousness burning away. He heard the metallic clatter as the knife fell to the floor, but he didn’t remember it or why it mattered.
Acrid smoke, so bitter it made tears rise in his eyes, billowed thickly in front of him, steaming away to reveal a flash of gold. It was thread, wound into a robe of the rich purple once reserved only for kings. The demon’s lip curled in a smile as he stared down at him within the counter circle, impossibly handsome, impossibly cruel. He appeared as a man in his prime, draped in the marks of power of a former age.
Ben had only a few seconds to observe. His vision was spotting, seemingly burning away from inside his skull. He could feel the burning spreading faster, knew instinctively that when it burnt out, he would be gone with the flames, nothing remaining of him except the pain.
“An interesting vintage.” The demon spoke in the calm tones of a connoisseur. “If somehow lacking…I wonder if the earlier aborted harvest prevented this fruit from reaching its true potential?”
“How long?” Sandy wet his lips. “Thirteen? He said he’d had thirteen years to develop.”
They were talking about him as if he was already dead. Ben braced himself against the stone floor. It was getting harder to think.
“You presume much.” The demon’s eyes reflected the black flames of the fires that burned surrounding them. “This death was not of your making. If I grant you a respite, it will be out of my generosity.”
Sandy’s apology was choked out. Ben let the sounds wash over him. They were increasingly distant now. The pain had slowed, the demon stringing out his meal.
Ben looked up. Nate was on his knees, his eyes fixed on Ben. He shook as if he was the one being unraveled.
“The end is close now,” the demon observed, conversationally. “He is aware, but only just. If you have any last good-byes, speak them now or forever regret.”
There was still enough left of Ben to be outraged. Using his death to aim at Nate? He snarled in fury, feeling the last vestiges of his self give way.
✩✩✩
The vampire launched himself at the demon. He only had the time it took for the demon to feed. I have to make this count!
The demon saw the danger too late. He turned to meet the vampire’s assault, but trapped within the circle, it couldn’t flee. “Unhand me, vermin! I am a prince!” He yelped, as the vampire’s fangs scored his flesh, sending a crimson spark of blood jumping in the flame light.
Blood! The immediate thirst was too great to resist. The vampire forgot his revenge, aiming instead to sink his teeth into the demon’s flesh. He missed the demon’s neck, but caught his shoulder, punching through the flesh with his fangs.
“Release me!” The demon swung clumsily with the sword at his side, still in its gaudily decorated scabbard. He connected with Ben’s head, and the vampire released him, leaving an angry tear that dribbled thick blood behind. The vampire swallowed, tasting the rich crimson in his throat before he was able to take his eyes away from it and look at the demon.
Blood ran freely down his arm. The demon cursed, as he struggled to grip the scabbard with his injured hand and free his sword. Once, no doubt, he’d been a feared warrior and the sword had slid free of its scabbard with the ease of constant attention, but centuries of inactivity had dulled blade and wielder both.
“Use your power! Call up a monster to deal with him!” The demon’s agent called to him. He had slunk back against the boxes that littered the warehouse. The vampire spared him only a passing sneer. He need not fear this one coming to his master’s aid!
“My forces are engaged,” the demon snapped. “They do not return to me.” He stepped out of the way as the vampire lunged again, circling each other in the confined space. Unable to leave so long as he still fed and unable to finish his meal as long as the vampire lived, he was trapped, and he knew it.
The vampire hissed, exulting in the situation. The demon was a rare prize, an apex predator, and he had it within his grasp. He feinted one way and, as the demon turned, made his move. The demon struggled, but the vampire possessed all the advantage. This time his teeth tore the demon’s throat.
The demon screamed, the harsh cry quickly becoming an unpleasant gurgle. The vampire sunk his teeth into the back of his neck, holding the demon up as he took what he could. The demon’s body jerked in his arms. Not a fight, but the spasms of a body already dying. The blood rushed into his mouth warm and rich, if loaded with a bitter after taste. Death―or demon? It was a heady drink, and when the vampire felt the final trembling of the body cease, he let it fall without regret.
The demon started to steam. His beautiful clothes began to shrivel and wither to nothing, like plastic too close to a flame. The rest of it followed, the body curling up, fetus-like, as it contorted, a foul gray smoke billowing thickly from it, and the foul stench of sulfur threading the air.
Where his blood hit the floor was a sticky black mass, like tar. It smoked too, and the vampire was curious enough to step closer, see that it ate away at the stone. Interesting. He studied himself, but the demon blood within him did not have the same corrosive effect. He bared his fangs in triumph. He felt full and powerful, his hunger entirely sated.
The demon’s agent whimpered. The smoke was billowing from him too, as the demon’s power dissipated. With a sound approaching a sob, he left the cover of the box he hid behind and lurched towards the door. Like the demon, his body seemed to be constricting, tightening around him.
The vampire leaped after him. He was not interested in feeding, but it was instinctive to chase what fled. Instead he was intercepted. The vampire found his arm caught in a grip he couldn’t shake free and turned to find himself held by the third man.
“You asked me not to let you hurt anyone.” The man’s voice tugged at something inside him. The vampire did not attempt to flee, listening instead to the voice. “Pretty sure that applies to Sandy, even if he is an asshole. Department Seven’s right outside. He’s not getting far. You on the other hand…”
The vampire purred his satisfaction. He remembered Nate. He ran his hand up Nate’s arm, enjoying the mere feel of him, the fact that he didn’t draw back. Not afraid. He knows me. The vampire’s smile curved. He saw the glitter of his fangs reflected in Nate’s eye. Knows we belong.
Nate ripped a sleeve from his T-shirt. “Let me.” He dabbed at the vampire’s face, clearing away the traces of blood. “Man, it is a good thing you wear so much black. We might actually be able to get away with this― What are you doing?”
The vampire had caught Nate’s finger in his mouth and sucked at it, lavishing it with care. His eyes fixed on Nate’s, and he saw a flush spread across his skin with distinct satisfaction.
“Um. Is this really the best time for this?”
With the blood of the freshly killed demon flooding his veins with power and life, there was no better time! The vampire pulled Nate close. The press of Nate’s warm body, his startled exclamation, the evidence of his life all combined to wake in the vampire a second life, a surge of need, just as powerful as that for blood had been. He ground against Nate, letting him feel his need.
“Fuck, Ben.” Nate rocked against him. “You― This is the vampire in you, right? I should not find it hot.” He checked his urge and stood still. “We can’t. This isn’t―a good idea.”
The vampire growled, gripping Nate tightly through his jeans. The man could hold himself in check, but he could not prevent himself growing hard. He stroked Nate’s hard length through the fabric, drawing a gasp from him.
“I’m not saying it’s not an attractive option, but―the fight, Department Seven… We should help them.”
The vampire paused to assess the sounds of battle. The overwhelming throb of hundreds of wings had died away, leaving the shouts and screeches of the remaining combatants, peppered by gunshots. The battle no longer woke an interest in him. What he wanted was right in front of him. The vampire tugged the zip of Nate’s jeans down, struggling with the button.
“Shit, Ben. You’re really serious about this.” Nate’s hand closed over the vampire’s. “Okay, um. Over here.”
The vampire resisted the tug until he realized where Nate intended to lead him. There was an attraction to the light, where his claim would be obvious to any who saw them, but the shadows had their own appeal, allowing more leeway. He hummed approval, interested by the way Nate’s fingers tightened around his wrist.
As soon as they were within the shadows, Nate turned, reaching eagerly for the vampire. Few humans gave themselves to death so willingly. The vampire rewarded him by meeting his embrace. He ran his fingers over the human’s body, exulting in it even as he hungered for more of it.
“When did you get so good at this?” Nate gasped as the vampire sucked at his neck. “Fuck.”
Although Nate had hidden them in the shadows, he was not able to quiet his need. Perhaps just as well. The stale traces of brimstone clung to Nate, a reminder of the demon’s attempts to possess him. The vampire growled, thrusting against Nate. He would claim him so thoroughly that nothing remained of the demon at all.
Nate gasped. “Fuck me.” It was an exclamation, not a request, Nate sinking to his knees before the vampire. Nate’s fingers hurried to undo the fly of the vampire’s jeans, shoving the briefs aside to free his erection. Unable to see in the shadows, he took firm hold of the vampire’s base, using it to guide the tip into his waiting mouth.
The vampire hummed approval. Nate’s eagerness was satisfying, and he could smell the man’s own arousal. It cut through the fog of need in his mind, replaced the urgent need to fight, to fuck, to feed with an awareness that he could afford to take his time. He stroked Nate’s cheek gently.
In return, Nate’s tongue laved his tip with all the tenderness of a lover. The noise of the ongoing battle seemed no more distinct than the thrum of New Camden’s traffic, and the vampire allowed himself to think of nothing but Nate’s mouth. He stroked his hair.
He’d chosen his partner well. Nate was skilled as well as unafraid. In a few moments, he’d brought the vampire to the edge of completion, but as the vampire shuddered, feeling his need build, Nate eased off, his mouth traveling instead to the vampire’s sac. The vampire thrust impatiently, his cock sliding against Nate’s cheek. “You should finish what you started.”
“In time.” Nate turned his face, letting the vampire’s cock slide over his lips. He held the vampire by his base, following the line of his frenulum with his tongue. He ignored the vampire’s attempts to hurry him, deliberately spinning out his pleasure.
Memories began to surface. The vampire slowed his thrusts to a steady roll, distracted by the thought of lying tangled with this man in the sunlight. They were lovers, then, if not more. He was trusted with something important, something related to the demon he’d destroyed.
There had been danger. The vampire’s fingers tightened in Nate’s hair. “Up.” He ran his hands over Nate’s body, searching for any injury. His nose twitched, and the vampire permitted himself a smile. What vampire would miss the scent of blood?
But as he kissed Nate, careful to keep his fangs from piercing the man’s delicate skin, the vampire was aware of a difference. Some of his urgency had faded, replaced with an awareness beyond hunger.
A vampire finds life only in those actions that most resemble living. Feeding, fighting, and loving. The vampire parted his lips, inviting Nate to explore. Was prolonging this encounter giving the vampire more of the living to ground himself? He knew he would do whatever necessary to protect the man pressed against him, knew that danger remained for them both.
And then Nate’s fingers grasped him firmly, and all thoughts but that of his building need vanished. Kept on the brink for so long, the vampire did not need much to push him over. He leaned heavily against Nate as his vision cleared, and he returned to himself. The demon’s scent was drowned now by their shared sweat and the vampire’s finish. Taking a moment to savor his satiation, he thought he’d like to return the favor, reaching for the bulge in Nate’s jeans.
“No time.” Nate caught his hand, but the vampire thought he found it difficult to do.
“No?” He tightened his grip, felt the tremor that went through the man with a sharp increase in appetite.
“Oh fuck. No. Um. Not here.” Nate struggled to keep himself from grinding against him. “Trust me. If you can wait till we get home, I’ll make it worth it.”
‘Home.’ That was almost as interesting a thought as ‘worth it.’ The vampire gave one last lingering caress then released him. “I’m holding you to that.”