“As he should,” Rans said, all hints of teasing gone. “And you were right, by the way—he’s a good bloke.”
Len gave the phone a flat stare. “Did I mention you’re both crazy?”
Rans ignored the words. “Whatever you decide to do, keep a low profile before and after the main event, and don’t dally.”
“Copy that,” I told him. “We’ll see you back at the apartment in a bit, and I’ll text you the address if we end up going.”
“See you soon, love,” Rans said, and ended the call.
I drew in a cleansing breath and met Len’s gaze. “Right. It’s your call. Are we doing this?”
He looked at me with tired eyes. “You really need to be around horny people to keep from starving, huh?”
I shrugged. “Well, I mean, I’m not about to keel over right this minute or anything. But in a general sense... yes.”
Len pulled out his phone with a sigh. “Let me find out where everyone’s meeting tonight, I guess. Then I’ll have to swing by Tris’s place to pick up my rope and rigging. I left most of that stuff in his apartment when I moved. The good news is, he should be pulling a shift at the restaurant until eleven tonight.”
I winced a bit at the reminder that ‘taking a break’ had also entailed Len moving out of the apartment he’d shared with his boyfriend.
“Thanks, Len,” I told him quietly. “And if it helps at all, this whole succubus deal is still some pretty new territory for me. I never asked for it, and I’m sure as hell not proud of it. So this is weird for me, too.”
Len shot me a glance from under his dark lashes. “None of us ask for the crap in our lives, Z. I didn’t ask to be the gay son of fundamentalist parents. Tris didn’t ask for his brain chemistry to be completely whacked for no apparent reason. I’m guessing your pretty boy didn’t ask for a pair of fangs and a silver allergy. But here we all are.”
I felt a twinge at the thought that Guthrie sure as hell hadn’t asked for a pair of fangs, either. “Yeah,” I echoed. “Here we all are.”
* * *
The surroundings at the informal SL2 get-together were way less impressive than the giant mansion the group had leased when they were running as a formal membership organization. This was just someone’s house, way out in bum-fuck North County where there were fewer prying eyes getting up in everyone’s business.
There were only about twenty people, but they seemed nice. I thought I could detect a bit of a cloud hanging over the gathering, as though many of them still weren’t quite over the ugliness of the episode with Myrial’s goons. I could sympathize. The fetish club had clearly been an escape for most of its members—a safe place to let their barriers drop and truly be themselves.
When that kind of violence intruded on a place that you relied on as a haven... well. It was a special kind of traumatic.
Still, there was a sort of determination among the people around us not to dwell on it. They were here, they were kinksters, and they were damned well going to do their thing. I supposed it was almost admirable, in its own weird way.
On a more personal front, I’d decided soon after taking the plunge that getting naked in front of a bunch of strangers was... kinda strange. It definitely triggered that odd dichotomy I’d been noticing in myself these past weeks—the one where my human side was busy trying to spontaneously combust from the power of my nervousness, even as my succubus side purred and waited happily for all eyes to fall on me and stay there.
Between the two impulses, I mostly just thanked the universe’s unseen forces that I’d thought to grab a razor at Guthrie’s place and do some strategic landscaping earlier.
“Damn, girl,” Len muttered, taking in the way the general focus of the room swung my way. He was blushing a bit as he measured out rope by the arm’s length, wrapping it around me with a practiced hand.
While I’d been tied up on a handful of occasions with Rans—quite memorably, in fact—this particular kind of bondage was something else again. Those previous occasions had been solely to intensify the experience of sexual pleasure. What Len was doing felt more like some kind of bizarre performance art.
Which wasn’t to say that it was a game, exactly... I’d been rendered completely helpless on a physical level before Len was halfway done with me. In fact, I’d been rendered so helpless that I had to briefly wrestle down a flutter of panic, before realizing that my most powerful defensive capabilities weren’t affected in any way by my inability to move.
I could still pull animus from other people, and that had always been my most effective means of protecting myself when the shit truly hit the fan. If anything, my appearance of total sexual vulnerability within the ropes enhanced that defense, rather than reducing it.
Besides, I’d been keeping an eye on the crowd since we arrived, and no one here was giving me the sort of weird vibes I tended to get when there was danger lurking. Unlike the fateful night at the club, this really did seem to be nothing more sinister than a bunch of fetish buddies getting together to let their collective hair down.
Well... a bunch of fetish buddies, and the succubus hybrid who intended to sneakily drain their life force. In truth, I was the closest thing to ‘sinister’ in this house tonight.
Which was a bit of a sobering thought.
I was already feeding from the crowd when Len gathered the loose spirals of my hair into a ponytail. A moment later, a smooth pull against my scalp drew my head back, my neck arching lightly. A faint tug indicated a final knot being tied, and he was done. There were several murmurs of appreciation.
The position I was bound in could only be held comfortably for a short time, but it would be more than enough to get what I needed.
What Len had done to me was almost suspension bondage, but not quite. Taking advantage of my flexibility from years of yoga combined with my strength from the recent weeks of training with Rans, Len had put me in a modified natarajasana pose —a position reminiscent of a ballet or figure-skating movement. Most of my weight was balanced on the ball of my right foot, and my right arm was strapped across my chest, woven into the regular, diamond-shaped web of rope running along the length of my torso.
However, I was also attached by my left wrist and ankle to a heavy ring overhead like something you might use to mount a chandelier. My left leg was stretched behind me and up toward the ceiling, bent at the knee into the shape of a scorpion’s tail. My left hand grasped the arch of my foot behind and slightly above my head—that grip, along with the ropes, keeping my limbs and spine arched into a taut teardrop shape. The rope tied to my hair turned my face upward, giving me a view of the far corner of the ceiling and very little else. My breasts and ass jutted out, crisscrossed with the regular pattern of ropes.
I had a sneaking suspicion that the overall picture looked pretty damned impressive. The strong trails of animus drifting my way supported that assumption, and my inner succubus preened.
“Want me to snap a photo for Bela before I take you down?” Len asked quietly, as though he’d read my mind.
“Sure,” I said, my voice a bit breathless from the strained position. “Just use my phone and send it to the last number.”
I’d handed Len my new burner cell for safekeeping, and Rans was the only number on it. I heard him moving around to find the best angle, and then the click of a virtual lens snapping open and shut.
“Oy. No other photos, please,” Len said firmly, presumably in response to someone in the crowd going for a phone. “Keep it in your pants, Josh.”
Good-natured laughter tittered through the crowd, and I consciously stopped allowing the flowing trails of animus into my magical core. It hadn’t been a big feed, I mused as Len carefully began freeing me, one limb at a time. But it had been enough to keep me going through whatever came next... and, more important, it had been refreshingly free of drama.
I stretched cramped joints and muscles once I was free, and gratefully accepted a terrycloth bathrobe from the woman hosting the event. Len was answering questions from
a couple of shibari wannabes when my phone dinged. He handed it to me without looking at the screen, and I gave him a wan smile as I took it.
After gathering up my clothes, I fended off a couple of reasonably polite propositions from other partygoers and escaped to the bathroom. Sitting on the toilet, I unlocked the phone and checked my texts. I’d been right—the picture Len had taken was pretty hot, if I did say so myself. A new text sat below the sent photo.
Even better than I’d imagined. Day officially brightened.
I smiled almost despite myself, and texted back.
Would have been much more fun with you here.
I hit ‘send’ and an answer came back shortly afterward.
Oh... agreed. The things I could do to you...
My belly tightened and swooped, a few simple words from the man I loved affecting me far more than the eyes of a bunch of strangers on my naked body. A second text followed hard on the heels of the first.
Soon, love. But in the meantime, I’ve had an idea re: the current situation.
I wondered briefly how worried I should be.
We’ll head back now, I texted, and received a thumbs-up emoji in response.
Once I was dressed, I went back to the main part of the house, where Len was still chatting with a few of the others. He glanced up as I approached, apparently reading something in my expression.
“Time to go?” he asked, and I nodded.
After making our farewells and thanking the hostess, we headed out. I had to shoot down a couple more guys as we made our way toward the door. I did so brusquely, but not cruelly, figuring that they probably knew Len was gay and assumed that I was therefore fair game for a hook-up.
Len eyed me as we reached the entryway. “So. Sex demon, huh? I guess I can kind of see it now.”
I cocked an eyebrow. “Two generations removed, but yeah. And however surprised you’re feeling? Believe me, I was about a hundred times more surprised.”
I reached for the front door knob and twisted it open, only to reveal someone standing on the other side, hand raised in preparation to knock. It took a second to register the man’s flaming red hair and blue eyes. Well... it took me a second. Behind me, Len had immediately gone very, very still.
“Tristan?” I asked stupidly. “Um... hi.”
Tristan’s eyes settled on me, but they were blank of any recognition. Of course—he wouldn’t remember me, would he? Rans had mind-whammied him to forget all the alarming parts of the night we’d met at the club.
Wow. This was certainly... awkward.
Tristan’s gaze moved past me to settle on Len, who still appeared to be frozen in place. “Len? What are you doing here? With... a date? A female date?”
“Oh,” I said quickly. “We’re not—”
Len cut me off. “What am I doing here? What are you doing here? Your shift doesn’t end for another hour.”
I snapped my mouth shut and slid a step to the side, exercising the better part of valor and removing myself from the line of fire.
“I took off early tonight because my head’s not in a good place,” Tristan said, a hint of anger creeping into his tone. “And I came here because these parties help me relax sometimes. It’s been a rough few weeks, all right?”
Len flinched, his face going pale. Tristan looked down, his attention settling on the messenger bag hanging at Len’s side. The one containing coils of rope and rigging equipment.
“At least I came here alone,” Tristan said. “I’m just here to chill out for a couple of hours. Whereas you clearly came here to play.”
“It’s not like that, Tris,” Len said, still looking like someone had punched him in the gut.
“Are you fucking bisexual, Len?” Tristan asked, hurt creeping in around his anger. “Is that what you’ve been hiding from me all this time? A girlfriend on the side?”
“Tristan,” I tried again. “We’re not—”
He glared at me. “How do you even know my name? Did he tell you about me? About us?”
I raised my hands and took another step back, aware that I was only making things worse.
“Tris. You’re upset,” Len said. “I get it. But if you just let me explain...”
Tristan’s jaw worked, his blue eyes snapping as anger took center stage again. “No. You know what, Len? I’ve been putting up with your lies and evasions for long enough. I don’t know what the hell is going on with you lately, okay? I thought we were doing pretty well, all things considered. But just because I’m on psych meds doesn’t mean I have to settle for someone who treats me like I’m a goddamned idiot.”
Len took a step forward, his expression anguished. “Tris,” he said, lifting one hand as though he might take Tristan by the arm.
Tris stepped back, staying out of reach. “Don’t. We’re done. I’m done with worrying about what’s going on behind my back. Just... stop calling. Stop texting. Come get the rest of your shit from the loft—preferably sometime when I’m not there. And leave the keys when you’re done.”
Len’s hand fell and hung limp at his side. I swallowed hard against the knowledge that this was something else I’d managed to ruin—more people I cared about, hurt because they’d gotten caught up in my messy orbit.
“All right,” Len said faintly. “I’ll... all right.”
Tris looked torn for a moment, then he shook his head sharply and pushed past us, disappearing into the house. My eyes flew to the tough looking, tattoo covered man next to me. He was shaking.
“Len,” I said in the softest voice I could manage.
He whirled and strode through the open door. “Come on,” he muttered gruffly. “I should get you back to your boyfriend.”
FIVE
I LET LEN STEW until we were back on the highway, heading toward the Central West End and Guthrie’s apartment building.
“I’m so sorry,” I said, watching his stony profile. “I feel responsible for this. Maybe I could talk to him, or...?”
“I’ve been lying to him this whole time, just like he said,” Len grated. He shook his head, resettling his white-knuckled grip on the wheel. “Paranoia’s part of what he has to deal with, because of his condition. He’s been worried for ages that I wasn’t happy in the relationship, because the meds he’s on kill his libido.”
I winced.
“Jesus. I should’ve known not to lie to him like this,” Len continued. “Of course he assumed I was cheating on him. I should’ve known how he’d take it if I tried to hide things from him.”
You should have done what both Rans and Guthrie said, I thought. You should have run away from me as far and fast as you could, back when you had the chance.
“You were just trying to protect him,” was what I said instead.
His jaw clenched. “Yeah. Well, that worked out really great, didn’t it?”
There was nothing much to say to that. I let the conversation lull, breaking the silence only to offer directions back to the apartment building.
“Should I just drop you off at the front doors?” Len asked, as we turned onto the street.
“No. Come back up with me,” I said, even though it was in direct contradiction to my earlier thought that Len would be better off as far away from me as possible. But... I was worried for him. “You’re upset. I’d be happier if you weren’t alone right now.”
He would have been well within his rights to tell me to fuck the hell off, so it was kind of telling that he only paused and said, “Yeah... okay, Z.”
Of course, we’d already established that Len was lacking in the ‘self-preservation skills’ department. He pulled into the garage and entered the code I’d given him earlier, his face twisting into a grimace as he eased the land yacht into a parking space intended for something sized more like a Prius or a Civic.
“Jesus. You do realize this car is a rolling disaster, right?” I asked, trying to lighten the mood.
“It was cheap,” he shot back. “It’s got character, Z. Don’t diss the pimpmobile.”
“It... does have character,” I agreed, wincing a bit as the door squealed on its hinges. I scooted sideways through the tiny space left between the pimpmobile and the car next to it, sneaking a look at Len as I did so. He was still pale, and he still carried the deer-in-the-headlights expression of someone who’d been unexpectedly and summarily dumped by a person they truly cared for.
The elevator dinged as it reached the top floor, and Rans was waiting with the door to Guthrie’s apartment held open when we exited onto the landing. He smiled as we entered, though there was a certain tightness to it.
“Nice rope work, mate,” he said, pausing to draw me in for a kiss on the corner of my jaw. My skin tingled where his cool lips brushed it. “And thoughtful of you to capture a photo for posterity. Definitely the highlight of my week so far.”
“Never thought I’d be working with a female subject,” Len muttered. “First time for everything, I guess. You... uh, got a bathroom I can use?”
Rans waved him in the right direction, and he headed that way with a nod of thanks. Once he was out of immediate hearing range, I caught Rans’ eye.
“Tristan just dumped him,” I said, keeping my voice low. “They’d been having trouble since the whole... you know. Be nice to him, please. He’s not taking it well and I’m worried about him.”
A flash of sympathy lit Rans’ features before they settled back into tense lines. “I did try to tell the lad...” he muttered.
I nodded. “Yeah. Anyway, I’m sated, but not stuffed. Small crowd. How’s Guthrie holding up?”
“He’s all right, for a given definition. Probably due for more blood soon, but I want him to stretch his control a bit. Get a feel for how long he can go between meals and still keep his instincts under wraps.”
“That makes sense. So, what’s this idea you mentioned?”
Rans lifted an eyebrow. “It’s a fairly straightforward one. It involves using an ocean to our advantage.”
I blinked at him. “Um... okay. Sounds... wet?”
Rans drew breath, presumably to explain the rather cryptic statement, but he was interrupted by Len’s return. He still looked just as bad as before, though a few damp tendrils of purple-dyed hair at his temples made me think he’d splashed some water on his face.
The Last Vampire- Complete series Box Set Page 73