Balance Point

by Katherine Rhodes

  I didn't.

  Now it had spread that I was not going to tolerate bullshit and the bar was peaceful and successful in just those ten days. Also, in those ten days, there was no sign of anyone who might be willing to share a little of the liquid nourishment.

  So I was sipping Synthoplas between beer orders. Desperation was also driving me to put a little dark beer in the glass because seriously? It was like gargling with old underclothes. Or over used shoes.

  I didn't hate it here, so far. But it was hard to judge what time was going to bring. Working the bar, I was already hearing things about underground trading and illegal things going on. The complex was supposed to be closed up with only official traffic coming and going. The rumors were that you could come and go as you pleased. I didn't even want to think about the penalties involved in getting caught outside of the buildings if you were there legally. For starters, you would have your stipend taken away. But that was only the start.

  Still, I was thinking about the tunnels. Rumor had it that there was a black market for fresh blood. Maybe a willing donor or two. Cold blood, even fresh, was disgusting—but it was better than that damn imitation crap. I figured could head down there and see what was going on after I shut down the bar.

  Luckily the night was smooth. There were no fights, and in fact, there was a friendly, calm game of old fashioned darts played by a group of Metas and Humans. They mixed up the teams to see who could do what and what they could accomplish in different combinations. It was refreshing. I didn't have a dog in the fight or war as it were, and I didn't pay attention to the intricacies—I really did have an earnest desire to just see everyone get along.

  And be little more open with their blood donations.

  Still hangry.

  The last of the inebriated dart players finally wandered out about three in the morning. It was handy that all the inhabitants were on the traditional 24-hour clock. Humans knew it well, and it was just a few off from Vaimm. The Humans loved having an even split of light and dark, which was fine with me.

  Locking the door behind me, I knew my ID chip would get me through the force fields that dropped at night. Most Complexers could only pass through them to get home this time of night, but being part of the nightdwellers, I had far more laterality, and I headed for some of the deeper levels, near where my original apartments were. I had gotten the directions to the tunnels off a very drunk giant.

  They weren't hard to find, at all. It was bizarre how easy they were, and how uncomfortable I was heading down into them. I didn't know what I was doing. I never ventured over to this side of the law. I had enough guilt with the blood drinking, I didn't need guilt over the morals I had to live with.

  I kept myself as small as I could—not an easy thing to do for a way-above average height vampire. And it failed pretty damn quick.

  Like, immediately.

  “Sir, where are you heading?”

  I stopped and sighed. “Apparently back to my apartment for more shitty Synthoplas.”

  The guy walked around with me with a laugh. “You are not the first to come down here looking for a chance to get away from that crap. But I'm afraid these tunnels are off limits.”

  “Even at four in the morning?”

  “Even at four in the morning. What are you doing up anyway?”

  “Vampire.”

  He perked up. “Meta.”

  I nodded, but I was suddenly wary of him. There was something about this guy… I was intrigued by something he was hiding. Maybe this guy was the key to my blood drought.

  Walking toward me, he cocked his head and studied me. I couldn't figure out what he was doing until I felt a faint pressure against my psyche.

  Well, that explained it. This guy was a psychic. He knew Metas handled his dump better than Humans. I held up a hand. “Hang on. Let's make a trade.” Wow. This was desperation.

  “Trade? For what?” He was curious, so that was a good sign.

  “You are currently trying to dump your excess psychic energy on me. And I would be happy to take it on—if you'll do me a favor.”

  “How did you know I'm a psychic?”

  “I'm a vampire.”

  He looked confused, and then I was confused. “Have you never had to deal with a vampire before?”

  “Not as more than someone who was out and about when they shouldn't be.”

  “How the hell are you a Meta if you haven't dealt with a vampire?” I mean honestly. We weren't the most common Meta, but it wasn't like we were a dryad or a strigoi.

  “I have only recently dealt with anyone outside the psychic community.”

  “But you're a Meta?”

  “What are you missing here?”

  “Core concept. Plainly. How the hell can you be a—” I stopped. “You're one of those conflagration psychics. The ones the population tries to protect from outside influences. Aren't you?”

  “Confluence. I am not presently, nor do I plan to be, on fire.”

  I had to snort a bit of laughter at that answer. “Okay, so guideline number one with vampires, we can sense psychic energy.”

  His visage slumped. “Oh.”

  I folded my arms. “Do you often dump your excess psychic build up on unsuspecting victims?”

  He grimaced. “Well, yes… it's not like there are hundreds of people lining up to deal with a psychic dump that takes you out for a day. Even strong Metas have issues with it.”

  “How often do you have to empty out? Normal psychics are about three times a sun circuit.”

  “I'm not normal. Once every three or four days.”

  “Well, shit.” That was as bad as how often I had to find blood. “Has it always been like that?”

  “Humans, man. Humans. They radiate energy the way some of them radiate stink.”

  I laughed. He was right. There were more than a few Humans who had a terrible smell to them--and even other Humans stayed away. “So, let me propose a deal to you. I can take some of your overload away if you're willing to donate a little fresh blood.”

  His face went ashen. “What?”

  “Well, I need blood. I am sick and tired of the imitation stuff I'm using. You just interrupted my quest for fresh. So this might work for both of us. I take a little blood and a little of the excess.”

  “I…” The look on his face made me a little ashamed of who I was. I knew the Meta community wasn't big on this blood thing. I mean hell, who was? I was freaked by it when I was about to be brought over. We did what we did to survive. The dance of conflict on his features was one I knew too well. “I have an outlet, but even that doesn't seem to be enough…”

  “And I don't need a lot of blood. Nothing more than you'd donate.”

  He nodded. “Fine. Fine, yes. Just this once. You'll put me in thrall, and I won't feel a thing?”

  “Uh, no.” This wasn't going well.

  “No?”

  “If I put you in full thrall, I won't be able to syphon off the energy. It shuts your mind down completely.”

  “Well… um…”

  “I can do a twilight thrall. It will hold you still, but it drops all inhibitions and mental walls. I may find things you don't want me to see, and you may find out things about yourself you may not want to know.”

  He was torn, but in the end, he agreed. “Alright. I need the relief.”

  My brain sang. Fresh, hot blood was so close. I shoved my hands in the pockets of my pants and tried to be casual about the hard-on that was threatening. “My name is John.”

  “Marin, Marindor.” He looked up and down the tunnel and motioned me to follow. “I assume we don't want to do this in a semi-public corridor.”

  I didn't want to care, but he was right. He took us up two flights and opened the door to an unoccupied room. As soon as the door shushed shut, I grabbed his arm spun him to face me, and dropped him into a full thrall. I didn't want him freaking out on me, and it seemed kinder to hold him there until I was ready to take his energy…and blood.

&nb
sp; I grabbed him by the back of the neck and guided him to the bed. “I am going to take from your wrist, Marin.”

  “…no…” His words came out on a soft breath, and he tipped his head back. “From here…”

  That was unexpected. But I wasn't going to argue a full thralled request, and I let my fangs fall.

  As I sank my teeth into the throbbing vein there at his neck, I almost came. It had been so long since I had tasted fresh warm blood, it was nearly an instant orgasm.

  Once I regained myself, though, I let Marin rise from the thrall to the twilight area, and he groaned. The sound was sensual and welcome. I was going to have to do something about the hard-on soon. It was also tempting to make more than a polite amount, so I slowed myself down and enjoyed each swallow.

  Marin rolled his head toward me and whispered a request. “I want to taste you.”

  Typical request. Most people wanted to sample my blood in exchange. I answered him in his own mind, I will let you taste my blood.

  “No… not blood.” He sighed. “Your cum.”

  Well.

  I checked myself and where I held him in thrall, and he was firmly in twilight. That was him asking, his uninhibited self. He was genuinely asking to give me a blow job.

  Why the hell not?

  I withdrew from his neck and stared into his eyes. Through the twilight, I could see the desire. It had been a while since I had been with a male-—I was naturally more drawn to females. I had been strictly opposite-sex as a simple psychic Meta, but after so long, even the kinkiest sex with the opposite gets old. So, I experimented and eventually settled on pansexual—or trisexual. I'd try anything. I didn't care about sex or gender. At all. I cared about the orgasm and being sated.

  “Taste me, too,” he whispered.

  Well, well.

  A good old fashioned mutual blowjob. My raging hard-on raged a little harder. I guided him back to the bed, and he went willingly. I quickly unfastened myself and pulled out my cock. It felt good to get it out of the confines, and I stroked it a few times, much to Marin's delight. His eyes were wide as saucers, and he wrapped a hand around my length.

  Oh, shit…

  I grabbed his pants and pulled them down, out of my way. Quietly impressed at his size, I moved both of us around until his dick was at my lips, and mine at his. He had an impressive amount of precum, and-—

  I lost my train of thought. Marin wrapped his lips around me and sucked my shafted into his mouth. My whole body shook, and I nearly sank my fangs into his cock. It was an experience I'd forgotten I liked, and Marin seemed more than adept at sucking dick.

  I shuttered, and I could feel his hard cock responding to his mouth on me. There was something about having a male's lips around your dick that was very different from a female. A male mouth was rough, almost crude, pulling and sucking with a final goal of climax in mind.

  My erection speared into the back of his throat, as I wrapped my hand around him. In an unexpected move, I felt him swallow me deeper, and I groaned. Shit, he felt good, and when I realized I almost came from that move I also realized how close he had sucked me.

  I took his hot cock in my mouth and teased him a bit, licking the underside, rimming the hole with my tongue. He jerked and groaned, growing even harder in my mouth.

  It was time for both of us to finish.

  I swallowed him deep into my throat until my lips touched his root, and sank my fangs in carefully. I pulled on blood, flooding my mouth with the coppery sweet taste I relished and the dark, delicious musk of his lust, and as soon as they mixed on my tongue, I came. Hard.

  * * *

  Marindor

  I woke up with the taste of another man's dick in my mouth.

  I waited.

  Nothing happened.

  Opening my eyes, I was in the room Aura and I usually met in, but I was alone. I was waiting for my body to react to the fact that I had given another male a blow job. I had willingly put his cock in my mouth. Shit on a stick, I had deep throated the guy and swallowed every drop of cum he'd let out.

  And…nothing.

  There was no revulsion, no nausea. I didn't hate him, or me, or what had happened. I didn't want to run and throw up, and I didn't even really mind that I could still taste him.

  I lay under the blanket, thinking. John had warned me the twilight would drop my walls. I didn't think it was going to drop my pants. He'd willingly gone along with both of my requests: tasting him and tasting me.

  I felt my cock twitch, so I allowed myself to briefly think about those two items. I was hard the next instant.

  Closing my eyes, I sighed.

  Bisexual.

  I'd never really thought about being attracted to a male. I had just always been around women. Being a random Confluence, not bred, I was extremely valuable breeding stock.

  Sad fact: I probably had a kid or ten out there, and I would never know them. I would only be allowed to settle down after siring at least 20, and then only with a woman who was perfect for me and the most likely to provide children with my talents. I would never know the others.

  Reason for leaving, number... ah, who the fuck knew anymore.

  As I lay there, my erection simmered down and relaxed a bit. So, I was bisexual. This wasn't a terrible development. Actually, it had a lot of potential. Since I'd learned to channel the energy through a sexual outlet, I had doubled my potential recipient pool. Double the potential for release and relief. Also, the reciprocated blow job wasn't so awful either.

  I wondered what it would be like to have full penetration sex with a vampire.

  Oh. Hard on was back.

  I couldn't lay there all day waiting for that to go away because clearly, I was going to be exploring possibilities. I stood and headed for the hygiene unit to relieve myself...and finally get the taste of dick out of my mouth.

  Chapter Three

  Auralym

  I sat at the bar, tapping my fingers. Marin had never contacted me the night before, breaking our standing date for the first time in three months. Now, I was running very close to deadly.

  “Something wrong with your drink?”

  I looked up and the very hot vampire I remembered from my first day down to the tunnels was standing there, wiping his hands on a bar towel. I looked down and realized I hadn't even taken a sip.

  “No, no, it's fine. Just... a lot on my mind.”

  “Oh, come on, in the Complex? It's a paradise and utopia. There are no troubles here.”

  I snorted. He laughed too.

  “So, what's your trouble that's keeping you from enjoying that delicious local brew?”

  I stared at the glass on the counter. “This is local?” I pushed it back toward him.

  He laughed again. “It's not really local. It's from the stock in the back. From Raxu.”

  “Human?”

  “Well, we can't all have ilmini nectar all the time.”

  My jaw dropped. “You have ilmini?”

  The vampire cocked his head, and he must have seen the real shock on my face.

  Ilimini nectar was the only drink in the known universe that could spare me from the constant sexual need. It didn't stop it, but it toned it down to a normal sex drive. There hadn't been any available for generations—the Metas couldn't grow it properly on the ships from Vaimm. I wasn't even sure they had been able to grow it on any of the Metas' planets in Seldova. “Do you have ilimini?”

  After a deep breath, he shook his head. “No. They are still trying to grow them. From what I know, there's hope they will take on Famiil. It seems they have the right climate.”

  I sighed. Succubii had cultivated legendary groves of the ilimini on Vaimm. It was an amazing drink, that could be Virgin or alcoholic, and there were very few bottles of it left. People paid millions of S-Co for it. I'd had a drink when I was young, just thirteen, because drinking at that age helped delay the onset of the Need. Most Succubii children were given a glass of it at that age, but after 300 years of thirteen year olds, t
he supply was quickly dwindling.

  And, oh, what I wouldn't give to taste it again.

  “I will put in a request for bottles from the first harvest for you if it takes. How does that sound?”

  “Amazing. To be free from the constant…” I stopped. Bartenders really did have a way to bring out the stories from people.

  “You are a succubus.”

  I nodded. There was no point in denying it to this hot vampire. He had probably known when we were in the zipper months ago. Why I remembered him, I wasn't sure, until I remembered that he was the hottest thing on two legs I'd ever seen.

  “That nectar would you help you a lot, wouldn't it?”

  “More than you know.”

  “You're here because someone stood you up?”

  “Well, I'm actually worried about him because he's never skipped out on me since we've met.” I shook my head. “Damn it, vampire. Stop being a therapist.”

  He laughed, and in a stereotypical move, tossed the bar rag over his shoulder. Offering me his hand, he said, “I'm John.”

  I shook his hand. “Auralym. Fancy a shag?”

  He cocked his head. “If you don't mind me taking a bite.”

  I stared at him. “Serious offer?”

  “Right now. In the back. Head back there, and I'll be back in two minutes.”

  “Not a filthy bathroom?”

  He gave another genuine laugh. “No, no. It's my office.”

  I stood. “If you're serious, I'm game.”

  “Two minutes.”

  I slammed back the beer, chugging it and dropping the empty back on the bar. I could hear that laughter again as I headed to the back, delightfully passing by the hygiene rooms, and into the door that said 'manager.' For a moment I thought about how desperate this seemed, but then at the same time, for as long as it had been again since I'd had sex, the vampire was probably one of the few Metas who could handle me aside from Marindor.

  I leaned against his desk and looked around the office. It was tidy and simply decorated. It was also organized and clean, and all around pleasant. It reminded me vaguely of the ship from Vaimm, even though I was nothing more than a young teen when we landed on Pinao. I wondered if he remembered Vaimm…