Chapter Two

The sights, the sounds and the smells. Beck smiled as he and Jacob took a carriage ride through the streets of the French Quarter. Their day had begun early with coffee and beignets at Café Du Monde, followed up with a visit to the Pontalba Museum and a look into the St. Louis Cathedral. They ate lunch at Bailey’s Oyster House and then stopped into Aunt Sally’s to sample the pralines.

Jacob, he discovered, knew a lot about New Orleans history. They watched the sun go down while eating muffalettas sitting outside the river walk watching boats and ships go up and down the muddy Mississippi River. He could truly say that this had been one of the best and most memorable days of his life and it wasn’t over. He was meeting with Tristan and William at the tailor’s shop on Dumaine in a few minutes.

Jacob’s cell phone rang. “Hello. Yes, Master Tristan we’re on our way.” He hung up. “Master Tristan is waiting for us.” He drove the Bentley through the French Quarters to Dumaine and parked the car. “Master Tristan will see you home, young master,” Jacob told him.

Beck nodded and then waved goodbye to him as he pulled away from the curve. Beck watched until he couldn’t see him anymore and then he opened the door of the tailor’s shop.

An Asian proprietor stood behind a counter. “Welcome,” he said bowing.

Beck bowed back. “I’m here to meet my uncle Tristan Armont.”

“He’s in back,” the older man said, opening a small swinging door on the side of the counter and allowed him to enter. “My name is Mr. Wong. I have been Mr. Armont’s tailor for many years.” He looked Beck over. “You’re tall and slender. I can make you something nice.”

“Thank you,” Beck said admiring Mr. Wong’s accent. “I’ve never had clothes specially made for me before, and I’ve never owned a tuxedo.”

“Mr. Armont told me to suit you from head to toe.”

What did that mean? Beck wondered.

“What is that cologne you’re wearing? It’s very nice.”

“I’m not wearing any cologne,” Beck answered.

“No?” Mr. Wong asked. “I guess I must be imagining things.” He continued to lead him down a hall, passing several fitting rooms and a room containing big bolts of fabrics, and another with several industrial sewing machines.

Beck couldn’t help but notice that there weren’t any other employees present and they hadn’t passed one customer. He figured Mr. Wong was open now as a favor for Tristan.

Finally Mr. Wong stopped, opened a door for him and Beck stepped inside. Mr. Wong followed. The room was very nice and more like a sitting room with comfortable looking furniture, thick black drapes at the window and Chinese artwork on the walls. Tristan sat in one of the chairs next to another man. He rose once he saw him and walked over to him.

Tristan looked much taller than he did last night in his bedroom. He was dressed in a dark brown suit with a tan colored shirt. His tie matched his suit. He had his short black hair tucked beneath a brown hat with a tan colored band. Tristan reached out and pulled him into a hug. “Did you enjoy your outing with Jacob?”

“Yes,” Beck said overcome by the hug and his body’s reaction to it. Tristan smelt good like expensive cologne and aftershave. “We had a ball. Mr. Jacob is funny and knows a lot about New Orleans.”

“He should,” Tristan replied. “He grew up here in the French Quarter.” He released him. “There’s someone I’d like you to meet.” The other man rose and Tristan walked him over. “This is William Treme.”

Beck was not prepared for the loveliness in yet a second man. He had shiny shoulder length blond hair and a slender face. Bold blue eyes peered out from between gold-rimmed glasses. His features were too feminine for a man and made him stand out and be noticed. Add a thin muscular frame and a finely-tailored dark green suit and you had a total package. Beck gulped embarrassed for staring. What would two such delightful men want with someone like him?

“William this is my godson, Beck Griffin.”

William extended his hand to Beck and Beck accepted it.

“It’s nice to meet you Mr. Treme,” Beck said once he pulled his eyes away from the other man.

“The pleasure is all mine Beck, and please call me William.” He looked at Tristan. “You’re right. He is the splitting image of Keith.” He released Beck’s hand. “We have plenty of time to get to know each other but Mr. Wong is waiting.”

Mr. Wong pulled out a cloth tape measure. “I need you to disrobe down to your shorts so I can get proper measurements.”

Beck walked away from Tristan and William, hesitated a bit and then slipped behind a partition to undress. He reappeared moments later clad only in a pair of black boxers and a black undershirt.

“Very nice,” William said with a smile. The delight reached his eyes and made them twinkle.

Beck felt a blush coming on especially as Tristan’s eyes raked over him too. “Quite,” he said.

Mr. Wong ignored the other men and went to work measuring him. “What look are you going for here?” he asked Tristan “With a build like his I can do so many things for him.”

William chuckled warmly at the tailor’s words but cut the smile off abruptly with a glare from Tristan who obviously noticed Beck’s nervousness.

Beck wasn’t embarrassed by his body, because they were all men. What got to him was the way the men looked at him and how his body reacted to their stares.

“I was thinking about something young and chic. Beck’s only eighteen so we don’t want to put him into something we would wear, but something appropriate for his age. He has good coloring behind all that hair.” He paused. “I leave the cut of the suit to you, Mr. Wong. Beck needs something to make him stand out and turn heads.”

William nodded in agreement. “Give him suits that bring out the hazel in his eyes.”

Did William like his eyes? He couldn’t be sure. And why did he feel so giddy thinking that he might.

“I think I know exactly what you want. I’ve been waiting to design something youthful and alive,” Mr. Wong said. “You guys are stuck in a rut when it comes to color, but I think I can go wild with this one. He has perfect proportions and great shoulders. He’ll be beating people off of him when I’m finished with him.” He bowed. “You can get dressed now so these two can stop gawking at you,” Mr. Wong told him. He pointed good naturedly at Tristan and William who were in fact taking delight at watching him standing there in his underwear.

Beck bowed to Mr. Wong and ducked behind the partition again to dress. Mr. Wong was noticeably missing when he exited fully clothed. “Where’s Mr. Wong?”

“He left,” Tristan said walking over and putting his around Beck’s shoulders. “He had a lot of work to do to get your tuxedo ready for Friday night, and we have many things we need to do.” He removed his arm. “Come, we have other places to be before dawn.”

Why did he put it that way?” Beck wondered as he followed Tristan and William out of the tailor’s shop. The two men seem to float as they moved effortless through the door.

Isaac waited outside with the limousine. He bowed and then held the car door open for them. William approached the car first. Beck couldn’t help but notice the way William reached out and stroked Isaac’s cheek before getting inside. Tristan pushed Beck forward. Beck blushed noticing the way Isaac’s eyes lit up when he saw him. Beck smiled at him in a friendly way, climbed into the car and sat down next to William. Tristan entered last and sat across from them.

Isaac closed the door and then entered the driver’s seat.

“Do you like Isaac?” Tristan asked as they drove away from the curb.

“He seems pretty nice,” Beck said. “And he’s around my age. It would be nice to have someone around to hang out with.” He didn’t miss the eye play between Tristan and William.

“Do you find him pretty?’ Tristan asked.

Beck made a face. “He’s a boy.”

William chuckled. “So, boys, as you say can’t be pretty.”

“No. I find him quite handsome,” Beck answered. “He reminds me a lot of you, but shorter. And he could use some sun.” He looked at the two men. “You guys too.”

“No offense,” William said. “But you’re just as pale as we are.”

Beck laughed. “I’ve lived up north all my life, while you guys are from sunny New Orleans. That’s one thing I thought about when Tristan asked me to move here. I’m finally going to get me a tan.”

William’s hand rested on his knee. “Tanning is so overrated. “Why do you want to look like everyone else when being pale gets you more noticed by girls?”

“Really?” Beck asked not sure if William were just teasing or not.

“Really,” Tristan answered. “And besides, tanning booths and direct sunlight can give you Cancer and you don’t want that to happen do you?”

“Well no.”

“I think you’re good just the way you are,” Tristan replied watching him from across the car. “Except we need to do something with your hair. How fond of it are you?”

Beck’s hand went to his head. “I don’t know. I really don’t bother much with it. Why?”

The car stopped before Tristan could answer. Moments later the door opened and Tristan slid out. He beckoned for him with a finger.

Beck slipped out and Williams followed. They stood on the sidewalk outside of a barber/salon. Very subtle, Beck thought as they led him inside. He hadn’t visited a stylist or a barber in years because he couldn’t stand sitting there for hours waiting to be served. They entered the shop and he was surprised to find that they were the only customers. The stylist turned out to be a very pretty woman around Tristan’s age.

“This is Martique,” he told Beck. “She will make you into a god.”

Martique walked forward. Her hair was stylishly coiffed in a brown bob with red highlights. She kissed Tristan on the cheek first and then William. “Nice to see you guys.” She turned to him. “So this is the illustrious Mr. Beck I’ve been hearing about,” she said with a southern drawl. “Wow look at that mane. I’m going to have fun doing you.”

Beck’s blush deepened as the woman unloosed his hair and ran her fingers through it.

“Give him the works,” Tristan told her.

“Brazilian?” she asked.

Tristan nodded.

Beck looked at both of them oddly since he knew what Brazilian meant.

Tristan smiled. “We’ll be back in an hour for him.” He and William turned on their heels and left him with the pale southern beauty.

* * * *

“He is quite the stunner,” William said as he and Tristan arrived at Blemm’s Restaurant for dinner.

“What did I tell you?”

“And he smells so delightful,” William replied.

Tristan followed the waiter and William followed him. They continued their conversation after they were seated. “You think so?” He pointed to his choice on the menu and then the waiter turned his attention to William.

“The usual,” William said.

“Yes, sir,” the waiter replied and left them.

“Didn’t you get a get a whiff of him? The kid smells like fresh peaches.”

“I did notice it,” Tristan said. “But I thought it was something he washed with.”

William shook his head. “Nope, it’s definitely natural, and most intoxicating. It kind of gets me in the pit of my stomach.”

Tristan grimaced. It hit him lower than that.

William chuckled reading his mind. “Nothing to be embarrassed about. He is kind of cute.”

“He is my godson,” Tristan argued. “And Keith’s boy.”

“So you’re already in love with him.”

“He’s family,” Tristan continued to argue.

“And Isaac sure likes him. Maybe we should let the two of them...”

Tristan’s eyes flashed to a dangerous shade of green. “No,” he answered before William could finish. “He is off limits to Isaac.”

William stared at him. “I’ve never seen you jealous before.”

Tristan shook his head. “I am not jealous. Beck should be brought over gently and by more experienced hands.”

“Like?” William asked.

“Us. He is our responsibility and I promised Keith I would do it.”

“No one expects you to honor such a request written when Keith was so venerable.”

“It was his last request. How can I not honor it? Beck will join us and take his rightful place.”

William nodded in agreement. The waiter returned with two young men around eighteen years of age. One had blond hair and the other had black. Both were cute and looked adorable in jeans and tee-shirts. The blond approached William offering his wrist. “My you’re a pretty one, William said accepting the offering.

The raven haired one sidled up to Tristan. He was indeed young and he smelled fresh and untouched. “Do you offer yourself willingly?” Tristan asked him.

The young man nodded sending a spray of black curls across his forehead.

Tristan took the offered wrist and pulled the young man onto his lap. He did not smell of peaches just soap and powder. He would do. Tristan lifted the wrist to his lips and kissed it. Bright blue veins appeared under the skin. The young man got comfortable pressing his body into his. His firm butt covered Tristan’s thigh and crotch arousing him. Tristan ran his tongue against the wrist. The young man shuddered and moaned. Fangs slid out from Tristan’s gums and he used them to pierce the delicate skin.

The dark-haired beauty gasped. Similar sounds echoed from the blond on William’s lap.

Warm blood filled Tristan’s mouth. He sank the fangs deeper. The young man shuddered and melted against him. Not enough time to finish, Tristan thought as he took enough blood to sustain him. His other need would have to wait until later. He brought the young man over the edge. He came instantly and then his body settled as Tristan sealed the wound with his tongue. The young man slid from his lap and walked away. Tristan used a napkin to clean his mouth and chin and followed with a sip of water.

William, as usual toyed with his dinner, sending the blond into several near attempts of a climax.

“Stop teasing your food,” Tristan warned.

William smiled at him and then sank his fangs in deeply into the blond’s wrist making him explode sexually, staining the front of his jeans. William finished up with him and sent him on his way. He wiped his mouth. “My compliments to the chef.”

“Too bad we don’t have time to get to know them better,” Tristan said rising. “But our prodigy waits.”

William rose pulled out his wallet and paid for dinner. And then he and Tristan left the restaurant and got back into the limousine.

“I hope you enjoyed dinner,” Isaac said driving away from the curve.

“It was superb,” William said with a sigh. “But we had to skip dessert.”

“Speaking of which, how attached are you two to Mr. Beck?” Isaac asked.

William and Tristan looked at each other.

“Very,” Tristan replied curiously. “Why?”

“I was just asking,” Isaac replied.

“He thinks you’re a very nice fellow,” William replied. “And he looks forward to having a friendship with you since you’re around his age.”

“So that means he’s off limits?” Isaac asked refusing to let it go.

“Most definitely off limits,” William answered. “The last time I checked, you and I were in an exclusive relationship.”

Isaac made a sarcastic sound.

William chuckled and sat back in the seat. “You are to chauffer him around and be his friend, nothing else.”

“Yes, Master,” Isaac said half-heartedly and both of them knowing he didn’t mean it.

“But we’ll let you watch.”

“Really? Isaac asked excitedly. It didn’t take much to please him.

“Yes, really,” William replied. “We’ll make it enjoyable for you too.”

Tristan shook his head. “Is there nothing you deny your pet?”

“Not really,” William said. “Isaac is so sweet and very appreciative to me when I’m kind to him.”

“I bet,” Tristan said.

William had brought Isaac over about a year ago. He found him on the streets of the French Quarters cold, beaten and nearly starved to death. The resemblance between the two of them was uncanny. Maybe that was the draw. Poor William had taken one look into Isaacs’s big blue eyes and fell hard.

The little scamp took to their way of life instantly but he didn’t want to be kept as William originally planned. So Tristan assigned him as chauffer to earn his keep. As a driver Isaac was one of the best. As a lover, he didn’t know because for some reason he’d never been attracted that way to him. He was comely enough, he had a nice body but he was just too pretty and too feminine for his tastes.

Isaac delivered then at the curb of the barber shop. Tristan looked at his watch. “He should be ready.”

They stepped into the shop and found Martique sweeping up hair but saw no sign of Beck. “He’s in the men’s room,” she told them, sensing them before seeing them.

A few seconds later the door to the men’s room opened and Beck walked back into the salon.

William gasped. “Is that Beck?”

Tristan stared at him just as surprised. Martique had not only cut Beck’s long hair but made it a lighter shade and added blond highlights. She’d shaven away the facial hair allowing for his youthfulness to shine through. He gulped seeing a lot of Beck’s mother in him now. He had her perfect delicate features, the dimples and the full sensual lips. The results were amazing and his eyes mesmerized and smoldered once Martique arched his eyebrows. And who knew his eyelashes were so long?

“Well, what do you think?’ Beck asked nervously feeling the top of his hair and then shoving his hands back into his pockets of his low-riding jeans.

Both he and William cleared their throats before walking over and around him. Tristan struggled to control his emotions. He didn’t want to frighten Beck. “I think you look great,” he said. “And Martique did a splendid job.”

“My pleasure,” she said. “And I mean it. He’s charming, delightful and has a great sense of humor.”

“And he’s eighteen,” William replied.

Martique rolled her eyes at him. “I know, not that age would stop me.”

Tristan cleared his throat loudly so she couldn’t say anything to embarrass the boy more than he already seemed.

“What I was about to say is that he smells so....”

“Yeah, we know,” Tristan said. “Like peaches.”

“I do?” Beck asked sniffing himself. “How come I can’t smell it?”

Whatever it was had two master vampires and one female very turned on. “We have to find out what it is,” Tristan told William hardly able to control the draw of the scent. His fangs slipped and he fixed them back in his gums before Beck saw them. The problem though, both Martique and William had and they smiled at him sheepishly. It was so unlike him to lose control and now he was about to lose creds with his people. “I think we better get him off the street and back to the safety of the mansion before anyone one else gets a whiff of him,” Tristan said.

“And who’s going to protect him from the two of you?” Martique asked playfully.

William just smiled as Tristan shook his head negatively to get her to stop before Beck caught on. He paid Martique and hurried Beck out of the salon and into the back of the limousine.

“What is she talking about?” Beck asked him as soon as his butt touched the seat.

Isaac turned in the driver’s seat sniffed and smiled. “I hate you guys,” he told Tristan and William playfully.

“I’ll make it up to you later,” William promised him.

“How?” Isaac asked starting up the car.

“I have no idea,” William answered dejectedly. “But I’ll figure out something.”

* * * *

The chef had prepared Beck a spectacular dinner, talked to him for a little while and left him to his own devices. Both Tristan and William had to get to work and they had taken a protesting Isaac with them.

Beck sipped his red wine and polished off the thick medium rare steak, baked potato and lima beans before deciding to go touring other parts of the mansion he’d never seen before. He headed to the west wing, admiring the antique furniture and portraits of what appeared to be of Tristan and William’s ancestors. Beck studied them. Amazing resemblance, he thought of the two long haired young men who also had amazing pale skin and shared the same eye color as their modern relatives. He walked over to another portrait and stopped. This man he didn’t know but he did look familiar. He had long dark brown hair, hazel eyes and a regal bearing. Maybe it had something to do with the crown on his head and the royal blue robes. Beck felt a strong pull from the portrait. He walked closer trying to decipher the ancient writing. He wished he would have taken some other foreign language in school besides Spanish. It appeared to be Latin. He knew a few words but all he could make out is king. That would most definitely explain the throne near the window.

Beck left the room looking back at the picture. The eyes seemed to follow him. He headed back toward the east wing. The wine had snuck up on him and made him sleepy. He walked up the stairs and entered his room. After a quick bath he dozed off. What seemed like only moments later he woke to find Tristan standing over him again. “Is everything okay, Uncle Tristan?”

Tristan nodded. “Yes, I’m just checking on you before I retire. I didn’t mean to wake you.”

“What time is it?”

“Nearly dawn,” Tristan said looking tired. He was already dressed in his black lounging pajamas and black slippers. His bangs drooped on his broad forehead nearly covering his fantastic green eyes.

“You must be exhausted.”

“A little,” Tristan said. “I’m sorry for disturbing you.”

“That’s okay,” Beck said scooting over happily and overwhelmed by his presence. Tristan’s cheeks appeared rosier than normal. “Have you eaten?”

Tristan nodded. “I picked up something at Blemm’s.” His eyes twinkled and his voice deepened. “Just an appetizer.”

Beck gulped. Just the sight of him stole his breath away. “Did you have a good night at work?”

Tristan sat down on the spot Beck had made for him. “Yes, one of our groups performed to a sold out audience in the New Orleans Arena.”

“And that’s a good thing?”

Tristan reached over and ruffled his hair. “A very good thing, Mr. Griffin. You’ll learn all that shortly.” He paused. “I almost forgot you were supposed to show me some of your songs.”

Beck eased his way out of the bed shyly because he was only wearing briefs and a tee shirt. He walked over to the desk, got his tablet and handed it to Tristan. He turned on the light so he could see and then crawled back into his bed. “These are my latest.”

Tristan opened the tablet. “You have very neat penmanship.”

Beck basked in the compliment. His grandmother had made him practice writing often enough as a kid. She used to tell him he never knew when he had to sign formal documents or something.

Tristan flipped the page and began reading. “This is very good,” he replied as he flipped another page. He smiled. “And you’re a bit of a romantic. This one is a love song.”

Beck blushed and nodded. He felt like an awkward kid around Tristan.

“Have you ever been in love before?” Tristan asked him.

Beck shook his head. “No, have you?”

Tristan nodded. “Once. Weren’t there any pretty girls in Virginia?”

Beck shrugged. “I supposed so but none of them paid any attention to me. I was kind of a geek. I did have a girlfriend once.”

“And you weren’t in love with her?” Tristan stopped reading and gave him his full attention.

“No, we were both so young. The most we ever did was hold hands. That part was nice.”

Tristan raised an eyebrow. “Ever kissed her?”

Beck shook his head again. “No. I was afraid she’d hate me.”

Tristan chuckled. “You’re so silly. You just lacked self-confidence back then. Here, let me show you.” Tristan moved swiping him from the bed and placing him on his lap.

Beck barely felt him move. How did he do it so quickly?

“The trick behind a kiss is control.” He lowered his lips and kissed him gently.

Beck’s eyes widened. He didn’t think Tristan would actually do that. He hadn’t expected his first kiss to be stolen by a man.

“You have to relax,” Tristan said staring down on him with a wicked smile. “And part your lips a little.”

Beck nodded, afraid to refuse. After all Tristan was like a father to him and trying to teach him the correct way to do things.

“Like this.”

Tristan kissed him again, this time pushing his tongue into his mouth and passionately inhaling the life out of him. Okay, maybe not in a fatherly way, but he was indeed learning a lesson.

Beck’s body trembled as Tristan deepened the kiss and ran his hand down his body. He didn’t find it unpleasant just sweet. His body on the other hand had a mind of its own. His penis hardened and he was panting by the time Tristan released him. He scooted back to his safety zone on the other side of the bed and pulled the covers over his engorged manhood.

Tristan, it seemed, didn’t come from the onslaught unscathed. His lips glistened and his eyes turned a deeper green than normal. How can they do that? Beck wondered.

“Are you okay?” Tristan asked.

Beck nodded his head up and down yes but responded. “No!”

Tristan chuckled. “Which one is it?”

Beck pulled the covers up higher. “Yes, I’m okay, or I will be.”

“What’s wrong? Your body doing bad things?”

Beck turned away embarrassed. He knows.

“Don’t be embarrassed, Beck. It’s a normal reaction.”

“I don’t think so,” Beck replied. “You’re a man.” God he’d gotten a hard on from being kissed passionately by a man. How humiliating.

“And so are you. So what? Your reactions are controlled by your heart not by chromosomes,” Tristan went back to the tablet as if nothing had happened. “Do you mind if I show these to William?”

Beck nodded, still afraid to speak with Tristan so near.

“I’ll get this back to you as soon as he reads it. I think you might be just what we’re looking for.”

“Huh?”

“We’re always looking for new songs for our singers. Even love songs by pretty little boys.”

“You’re never going to let me live this down are you? I can’t help it if I’m innocent and not perfect like you.”

Tristan looked at him with surprise. “I’m not perfect, Beck.”

“Yes, you are,” Beck replied. “You walk and dress like a model, you have impeccable manners and speech, you’re a successful businessman and your employees and everyone seem to like and admire you.”

Tristan reached over and touched his cheek gently. His finger felt cold. “No one is perfect, Beck, especially not me.”

He didn’t care what Tristan said. Beck found him pretty spectacular and he sure could kiss.

Tristan looked at him one last time before rising from the bed. “I think I better leave so you can go back to sleep or before I do something shocking and ruin your perception of me.”

“I don’t think there’s anything you could do to hurt me,” Beck said following him with his eyes.

Tristan smiled but did not comment. “Good night little prince.”

“Are you going to bed?”

Tristan nodded. “I’m afraid it’s out of my control.”

“When can I accompany you to work to see what you do?” Beck asked him.

“Soon,” Tristan said as he moved toward the door like he walked on air. He lifted his hand and waved.

The need to sleep washed over Beck like a tidal wave. He was asleep before his head hit the pillow.