Doyle watched as Christian took off through the park
before turning his attention back to Michael, who stil lay on
the ground. His gaze locked onto Doyle’s as if pleading.
“What do you want me to do, Michael?” Doyle had to
lean down close to listen for the other man’s answer.
Michael rasped softly, “Please.”
Doyle didn’t hesitate as he bit his own wrist and placed it
over Michael’s mouth. As he felt the pul of Michael’s
feeding, he hoped he wasn’t making the biggest mistake of
his life. Something about Michael drew him, yet he wasn’t
comfortable acknowledging how it made him feel. He
wasn’t gay and he didn’t ever want to be gay. He must only
be feeling this way because Michael was helpless. Who
wouldn’t feel sorry for someone desperately needing help?
Michael whimpered as Doyle removed his arm.
“Shh, Chris is bringing you more. I promise.”
§ § § §
Christian stalked his prey through the park for perhaps
five minutes, just waiting for his moment. It amazed him how
stupid people real y were. Why would they walk al by
themselves though a darkened park at this time of night?
Not even caring there were dangerous things out there in
the night, not al of which were animals? He gave a low
growl and let the demon within run free.
The woman never had a chance. She didn’t even realise
she was about to die until she turned and saw him there,
and she was dead before she had time to scream. The
hardest part was carrying her back to Michael when he was
tempted to drain her himself.
“Stil here? Excellent! For a moment I thought you may
have gotten bored and wandered off with Doyle,” Christian
said to Michael’s inert form, and then winked in Doyle’s
direction. He laid the girl on the ground beside Michael.
Christian drank deeply and her salty warmth flowed readily
into his mouth. Moving toward Michael, Christian gently
lowered his lips until they pressed against Michael’s. He
used his tongue to once again part Michael’s lips, but this
time it was just enough to let the warmth he held trickle into
the other’s mouth. His fingertips gently held the side of
Michael’s face to keep it steady. It felt strange but nice as
Michael’s tongue flicked into his mouth seeking what he
had to offer. He heard Doyle growl behind him.
Christian’s eyes snapped to Doyle in confusion. “Why
does he taste like you?”
When Doyle shrugged, Christian turned back to feeding
Michael. He repeated the action of feeding Michael many
times until he thought Michael would survive the journey
home. The last time, it felt more as if Michael was
responding to one of his kisses and it made him groan. He
wanted so much to explore the sensation, but instead he
jerked back when he heard Kerr and Charm approaching.
What would they say if they found him on the ground kissing
Michael beside a dead body? It was bad enough Doyle
had witnessed it al .
Now it was time to take Michael home so he could join
his family.
“See love,” Christian spoke casual y to Michael’s inert
form, “now that you have fed, we are going home.” Christian
moved to the side as he watched Kerr pick Michael up and
start to carry him toward Ambrose Street. Charm and Doyle
stayed behind to dispose of the young woman’s remains
while Christian fol owed Kerr. He wasn’t going to let
Michael get too far out of his sight. Not now. Not ever.
§ § § §
Michael groaned as his awareness came back. He
realised at once he was lying on a hard surface of some
kind, and sadly he was stil very much alive. Damn! Or, if he
was dead, then he was in hel , because only in hel would
his hunger be this strong and his need to be near Gypsy
just as intense. It brought tears of frustration to his closed
eyes.
Trembling, he sat up. His head felt ready to split open. It
was fil ed with a thousand voices, al whispering in there at
the same time, al fighting for the chance to be heard.
Michael filtered them al out until only one remained. Only
one was persistent enough to command his attention. His
eyes snapped open as he registered the metal ic taste in
his mouth . So I did feed! Pain washed through him as he
realized now he was committed for eternity to this way of
life, and Gypsy would forever be out of reach. Tears blurred
his vision as the thought sunk in.
Now he would have a whole new demon to fight.
“You won’t survive unless you embrace what you are.”
Michael looked up as the cold, cynical voice addressed
him. He stared into the face of the one who spoke and it felt
as though he were seeing through new eyes. Even through
his blurred vision, the first thing he noticed was the guy had
the greenest eyes Michael had ever seen. The second
thing he saw was the guy had no hair. Then Michael noticed
the guy was frowning at him. What the hell is that about?
The guy’s jaw was clenched and he seemed to be on alert
in case Michael tried to do something and he nearly
laughed out loud because he stil felt too weak to move.
Even sitting up was draining what little energy he had. He
stared at the guy and took everything in, from his bald head
and broad shoulders, down his muscled body until he came
to a set of beat-up black combat boots. This guy wasn’t one
of the ones who had fol owed him last night, but he had
fol owed him at other times, Michael was certain. It seemed
everyone now had their own distinct smel about them.
He came back to the present when he heard a box of
matches being shaken from nearby. Automatical y his
hands sought out his own cigarettes. His pockets were
empty. “What am I?”
Michael watched as the guy circled him.
“You already know what you are. The question is; what
you are going to do about it?”
He realised the man’s eyes were fil ed with pity as wel
as coldness, and stil it was aimed al at him. Again, he
wondered why. What the hel had he done to piss this man
off?
“I want you to tel me what I am,” Michael said through
gritted teeth. His head stil felt ready to burst, and what was
worse was his throat itched like a bitch.
“You won’t believe it,” the guy said.
Michael wasn’t happy with the way the guy was studying
him. It made him feel uneasy, as though he had done
something wrong and was about to be punished, and he
wasn’t exactly sure what he was going to be punished for.
It was more a statement than an answer. He sighed
deeply as he let the truth sink in. His body fil ed with pain,
defeat, and an underlying hostility. He didn’t need this
bul shit — he needed answers. “Did you do this to me?”
The guy laughed harshly then spoke again. “No. We
were hoping you could tel us who did this. Who ch
anged
you?” He final y stopped his endless circling. “You, my
friend, bring our little family to five. I’m Kerr, by the way.
There are also Charm, Doyle, and Christian. Each of us
started out the same as you, so innocent, so human. Now
you are the same as us, one of the undead.” Michael
watched as Kerr turned at the sound of approaching
footsteps. Whoever it was, it was obvious Kerr knew and
liked them, because his face softened as the person came
ful y into view.
“Wel ?” The woman sighed as Kerr shook his head.
“What about him?” She flicked her fingers in his direction.
Her eyes clouded for a moment and she seemed to be in
deep thought before she nodded, sighing again as she
walked downstairs to join them. The way she gazed at him,
Michael had the feeling she was expecting something from
him. Strangely, she made him feel calmer. “Same as al of
us — he can’t remember being changed.” Kerr rubbed his
hand across his bald head. “He doesn’t remember a damn
thing.”
“Bummer.” Disappointment fil ed her face as she
reached out and tenderly caressed Michael’s cheek, and
he found himself leaning into her touch. “Welcome to the
family, Michael. I’m Charm.”
Confusion fil ed Michael, but he didn’t say anything.
Instead he just stared at her. It seemed as though she was
trying to talk to him with her eyes and he just couldn’t figure
out what the hel she was saying. Her eyes were a grey so
pale they could be mistaken for white. They had a dark ring
around the outer edge of the iris which gave her an ethereal
appearance and he wondered if she could see into his very
soul. Even though she made him calm, her eyes freaked
him out just a little bit. Okay, they freaked him out a lot.
“What wil happen now? Why did you bring me here?”
Michael asked as he patted his pockets for a second time.
“Where the hel are my cigarettes? Give them back to me.”
Again he heard his matches being shaken and it pissed
him off. He just wanted to know what the fuck was going on.
“Three years ago I woke up alone, only to find I wasn’t
dead,” Kerr explained. “Along the way I have found others.
First Christian, then Charm, then Doyle came to join us.
And now we have you.”
Reaching out a shaky hand, Michael took the cigarette
Charm offered. “You’re tel ing me absolutely nothing,”
Michael said. His hands shook as he held the smoke
between his fingers. Michael glared at Kerr. “Tel me
something, anything. Tel me one bloody thing that makes
sense.”
“I can’t tel you what I don’t know.” Kerr snapped. “For
three years we have sought answers. For three years we
have gotten nowhere. Four people — now five — have
woken up dead. The rest just haven’t woken up at al . Too
many times we came across someone’s scent only to find
a rotting corpse.”
Al of this new information was making Michael’s mind
reel. What the hel was happening? Who was responsible
for his new way of life? How was he meant to blame
someone if they couldn’t tel him who did this to him? How
was he supposed to exact his revenge on losing Gypsy if
he was stil being kept in the dark?
“What does it mean? I don’t understand.”
“It means our creator, sire — whatever the hel you want
to cal him or her — only chose a few of us to fol ow in his or
her footsteps.”
“To do what?”
“That’s what we are trying to find out,” Kerr replied with a
shrug of his shoulders.
Feeling cheated, Michael asked, “Then what? What are
we meant to do after we find this person? Is it going to
change anything? Wil it give me back what I have lost?”
The only answer he got was another non-committal
shrug.
“How did I get here? Where is here? Why am I here?
How long have I been here?” Michael heard his matches
rattle for a third time and could sense the people who had
been watching him earlier, and it made his anger surge
forth again. “And for the love of al you hold holy, who the
hel was fol owing me tonight? And who the hell has my
damn matches?”
“We brought you here. You are home. You are now
family. Three days. Doyle and Christian.” Charm answered
al his questions while a twisted and somewhat
mischievous smirk played on her mouth. “They helped you
feed.”
Michael was confused by what she was saying. “Helped
me? How?”
Laughter bubbled out of her. “They fed you.”
Flickers of memory assaulted him. Michael fel silent
trying to make sense of it al . What the fuck?
“They’re waiting to meet you.” She gestured toward the
stairs leading up into the house.
His gaze turned toward where she has gestured but he
saw no one, Michael wasn’t real y listening at al because
his thoughts were in turmoil. He realised he hadn’t any
choice as to final y crossing over that hated line. Bal ing his
hands into fists against his thighs he fought the urge to
strike out at something.
Standing within the shadows Christian watched. His
curiosity about this new arrival to the family kept him from
crawling into bed and sleeping away the sun-fil ed hours.
He and Doyle were waiting on the stairs to come and
official y meet Michael. Excitement fil ed him. Peeking over
at Doyle, he saw Doyle had a very strange look on his face.
It almost seemed as though he was going to throw up. And
Christian wondered what the hel was wrong with him.
But Doyle’s strange reaction wasn’t what held his
attention. What did was the fact that this guy — Michael —
was beautiful. Not just merely handsome, Michael was
real y and truly beautiful. Charm had already said she
thought he was drop dead gorgeous, and he had to total y
agree with her. Christian wanted to run in and cover his
face in kisses, just as he had yearned to do earlier. But he
thought it might be a bit inappropriate, since this was to be
their first official meeting.
The one thing in Michael’s looks that stood out the most
was how Michael’s eyes seemed unnatural. They had a
purple cast to them, giving them the appearance of melted
amethysts. This seemed to become more obvious once he
had final y fed. Honestly, Christian felt he lost his very soul
each time he gazed into those eyes. Michael’s dark hair fel
to his shoulders, framing his perfect face. It amazed
Christian how much Michael looked very similar to the actor
Jonathan Rhys Meyers. Even though he had never been
attracted to another guy before — that he could remember
— some strange part of him wanted to rub himself al over
Michael just so the others knew to keep their hands off of
what was his. Christian froze at the thought; it was enough
to make him sto
p and go whoa!
Descending the stairs, Christian stepped into the lounge
room, he came ful y into view, but the others ignored him as
they focused on Michael. He held Michael’s matches
clenched in his fist. The cigarettes sat in his shirt pocket.
Everyone seemed to be caught up in their own thoughts.
They hadn’t noticed him, so he just watched and listened,
memorising everything he could about the newest member
of the family. Christian studied his face. It intrigued him how
ful Michael’s lips were — so inviting, and his scent was
delicious. He wanted to taste Michael again.
Christian wondered how many hearts Michael had
broken during his human life, and how many more he stil
had yet to break. Biting his lip to keep himself from talking
Christian listened to the sound of Michael’s voice. It was
mesmerising, so deep and husky. Watching as Michael
brought the unlit cigarette to his lips, searching his pockets
for his matches, and Christian’s hand clenched tighter
around them. Charm held out her lighter so the flame
danced across the tip of Michael’s cigarette.
Michael’s eyes rose tiredly to meet Charm’s. She was
pretty in her own ashen sort of way. Her lips were very red,
and she wasn’t even wearing makeup. As he inhaled, the
smel of roses came to him. He stared, then closing his
eyes; he leaned closer and inhaled again.
“You smel like Gypsy,” he said sadly as her fingertips
ran across his cheek. When he opened his eyes again Kerr
was frowning at them. As Michael returned his gaze to
Charm he thought there was something odd about her. He
would have to think on it for awhile. His line of sight drifted
past her to final y land on the two young men now standing
at the foot of the stairs. The one on the left had blond hair
which was slicked back, and his thin frame was draped in a
long black leather coat. Michael stared, a smile twitching at
the corner of his lips. Was this guy for real? Or had he just
seen one too many episodes of Buffy the Vampire Slayer?
Looking at this guy, the character Spike immediately came
to mind, except this guy was shorter than Spike — probably
even a tad shorter than Michael — and not as anorexic as
Spike. If his mum could see him she would be in her glory.
The guy on the right was almost the Spike clone’s exact
opposite. He had messy dark hair, it came just below his
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