He’d felt secure before now, but it went against every fiber in his body that he would turn his back—his naked back, at that—to a stranger. Jacob had done it to him before, to test him. He’d stripped him, made him kneel, made him wait. And then, when he’d just begun to let down his guard, the lash had fallen over his back.
The memory made his knees buckle, and he hoped Bill thought it was a reaction to what he was doing, not an emotional scar. That was the last thing Ziggy needed, to miss out on some really hot sex in order to explain his mental dysfunction.
To take his own mind off things, he reached for one of Bill’s hands, pulled it to his mouth and sucked the thumb in. Bill groaned and pressed against him, full body contact, and Ziggy wondered when exactly he’d gotten rid of his jeans. He pushed back against him, just to be antagonistic, and Bill pulled his hand back, tracing his fingers down Ziggy’s spine, to the small of his back, the line of his tailbone and farther.
“You get right to the point, huh?” Ziggy gasped as Bill’s thumb, still wet with saliva, pressed inside. Had anything ever felt this good with someone else? A pang seized him at the thought that, when all was said and done, he would still be a monster and Bill would still be afraid of him. And then it would be over. And this would be the big mistake that hung between them for the rest of the time they had to be around each other, until one of them found a tactful way to get the fuck out of Dodge.
Bill’s lips were against his neck, his cock nudging him from behind, and he whispered, “We might have a little problem.”
Ziggy tensed. This was the moment he could be the sober, responsible party. This was the moment he could easily save them both from the consequences of an ill-advised hookup.
Leaning forward, bringing his whole body into clumsy contact with Ziggy’s, Bill reached for something on the counter. He sounded much more cheerful, proud of himself, even, when he said, “Wait…never mind, we’re back in business.”
Ziggy half turned. “Back in—” His words were cut off by the shock of something cool and wet spilling onto the small of his back. After a split second of confusion he recognized the scent with a perverse thrill. “Is that…is that olive oil?”
“What, you wanted to do this the real rough, manly way?” Bill asked with a quiet laugh. Ziggy laughed with him, until Bill’s fingers, slippery with oil, slid down to press inside of him. First two, then a third that took all the breath from him and buckled his knees with a jolt of pleasure that shot straight to his groin.
Pleasure that mixed with nervousness as Bill’s hand withdrew, replaced by the wide, firm tip of him.
“Is this okay?” he asked in a strained voice, and Ziggy had to admire his restraint. He took a deep breath and nodded, held that breath as the pressure increased, then gave over to stinging release when the head of Bill’s cock was finally inside of him.
There was pain. A dull burn that reminded him that Bill wasn’t a small guy, and all the benefits of that were soon to come. Bill asked if he was still okay with it, still wanted to take all of him, and Ziggy could only mumble something incoherent and impatient in response. Something half-begging, half-demanding, that made Bill chuckle hoarsely and push forward, and Ziggy squirmed back until he was more filled than he’d ever been before.
Then Bill began to move, and Ziggy wasn’t sure when he’d stopped supporting himself and started to just rely on Bill’s weight pinning him to the cabinets to keep him from falling. He reached down to touch himself and Bill’s oil-slick hand snaked around to get there first, grasping the base of Ziggy’s cock, jerking him off with firm tugs timed so that Ziggy didn’t know what he wanted more—to thrust into his fist or push back and hinder Bill’s withdrawal. He turned his head, mouth open, breathless, and Bill kissed him, his tongue moving in time with his hips.
When he broke away, it was to apologize. “I’m sorry, I can’t…” and a deep, throaty groan rolled over whatever else he was going to say as his body stiffened. His hand tightened, almost too hard, but he didn’t stop stroking as he came. Ziggy almost shouted at the feeling of Bill inside of him, the way his cock twitched as the warmth of his come spilled from him. And then he was coming, too, making a strangled half sob as his dick jerked in Bill’s hand.
Even if he was supposed to be the stronger creature, Ziggy’s legs were weak, so weak he had to lean on Bill after he’d withdrawn, and they both slid to the floor to get their breath.
Bill leaned back against the base cabinets, his eyes closed. A single bead of sweat rolled down his temple and Ziggy had the weirdest urge to lick it away. In the name of not looking like a total psycho, he restrained himself.
“Jesus,” Bill said when his breathing returned to normal. “That was…”
“Regrettable?” Ziggy supplied for him, wincing as he shifted on the cold linoleum.
Bill actually looked wounded. “I was going to say great. Obviously we didn’t just have the same experience.”
Way to say the right thing, dumb-ass. Ziggy closed his eyes and rubbed his forehead with the back of his hand to keep from making eye contact. “No, it was, really great. I was just trying to say that we shouldn’t have, before you did.”
“Ah. I see.” Bill climbed to his feet and found his jeans. After he pulled them up over his hips, he turned to face Ziggy again. “And why do you think we shouldn’t have?”
It wasn’t fun being the naked, interrogated one. Ziggy grabbed the T-shirt and pajama bottoms and got them on as quickly as he could without falling over on his trembling legs. “You’re drunk, for one—”
“I’m not drunk anymore,” Bill interrupted with a lopsided smile that made something inside Ziggy’s ribs squeeze up.
Still, since one of them had to be the voice of reason, he continued. “Second, you don’t like the fact I’m a vampire. You sat there and said, ‘Hey, nice of you to kill those people, jackass,’ and then just decided you wanted to fuck me. I get being attracted to me, all right? I know I probably come across as some wounded charity case, the abused boy wonder or some shit. But that doesn’t hold anybody’s fascination forever.” He swallowed, and it was like a lump of gravel going down. “Not that I’m saying I want the whole forever thing. I’m not going to be possessive and weird now. It was just a figure of speech.”
Bill nodded gravely, his eyebrows slightly raised. “You done now?”
Ziggy nodded in reply.
“Fine. Then let me clear up some misconceptions you seem to have.” He stepped close, so close their lips were almost touching, and just before they did he turned his head just slightly to say softly into Ziggy’s ear, “I’m not looking to make forever out of this right this minute, either.” He stepped back, letting the statement sink in a moment before continuing, a little more pissed-off sounding. “But at least I’m open to the possibility that you’re someone I could spend some serious time with. And yes, you’re a vampire. I don’t like that. I don’t like Republicans, either, but I don’t cut them out of my social pool. I realize that this, between you and me, is a shock. It has sure shocked the hell out of me. But from the minute I met you—after the bleeding stopped—I was never thinking you were some little lost boy I could save. From the minute I met you I knew I was in some serious trouble, and that I could fall for you hard if I wasn’t careful.”
“Way to be careful,” Ziggy said with a snort.
Bill’s serious expression cracked only a little. “I didn’t say I’d fallen hard yet. But I’m definitely on the way down. I want to know, is this the point where you want me to bail out? It’s only fair to tell me now. But don’t throw up a bunch of imagined or perceived roadblocks on my behalf.”
Ziggy had to be careful when he spoke. The squeezing pressure in his chest was almost unbearable, and he didn’t know what sound would come out when he tried to talk. He took a deep breath and blinked, surprised to find there were actually tears waiting to be shed. “No. I think I can safely say I don’t want you to bail.”
Stupid boy, Jacob raged inside his head.
No one will care for you, protect you as I have.
Yeah, I know. Ziggy kept the thought to himself. He’d given enough to his sire already. But let’s give him a chance.
Ten:
Here’s…Henry
I woke with a searing pain in my head, centered right behind my eyes. When I opened them, I panicked, thinking that I might have gone blind. Then I remembered I’d fallen asleep on the bedroom floor. I sat up and looked around. Sunlight showed through around the edges of the blinds. How long had I slept? Why hadn’t anyone woken me up? My back ached as I slowly sat up, feeling every crack and pop in my spine.
Maybe they had tried to wake me up, but just hadn’t been able to rouse me. My dreams had been strange, a jumble of weird birth imagery and memories of my parents. I reached a hand out in the semidarkness to touch something. I didn’t care what; I just wanted to assure myself I was awake and not in another freaky dream. My fingers skimmed something soft and warm, like human skin, but without the energy of something living.
I scrambled backward, ignoring the pain in my head. “Don’t touch me!” I shouted to whoever was in the room with me. “Help! Max, Ziggy!”
When they didn’t immediately come, I got to my feet, still calling for them, feeling blindly for obstacles as I made my way to a light switch. I knocked my shins painfully on the dresser, swore, and only then remembered I could use a spell to get some light going. “Illuminate,” I commanded. The lightbulbs in the wall fixture and the bedside lamp popped on and my gaze immediately flew to the man standing in front of me.
There was no concrete way to describe him. Actually, concrete would be a good way. He was completely gray from hairless head to toe. In fact, his whole body was hairless. No eyebrows, no body hair. Just a plastic-looking expanse of gray stretched over a generic male form. If not for the distinct genitalia, he could have been a Ken doll. He looked at me with gray eyes, but said nothing and made no move to come near me.
I remembered more clearly what had transpired the night before. Using the ash to cast Dahlia’s spell, feeling all the power and all my memories rush out of me to form this thing. I could only stare at him, mute, as one thought ran through my mind: I did it.
I approached him cautiously, though I was pretty sure I remembered something from mythology that said a golem couldn’t do anything unless commanded. I decided to try it out. “Put your finger on your nose.”
He didn’t even give me a funny look as he did it. Just unquestioning obedience.
“Turn around,” I ordered, and noticed that he did literally what I said. He didn’t just turn three hundred and sixty degrees. He kept going until I told him to stop.
“Okay.” I tapped my lips with my forefinger as I watched him. What were the limitations on golem actions? If I told him to prepare a soufflé, could he do it?
“Do the Hokey Pokey,” I ordered, as a test.
“You put your left foot in, you take your left foot out,” he sang in a dull monotone as he performed the actions he described.
“Put some pep into it,” I barked, but I couldn’t hold back my laughter to make it sound serious. Even so, he continued his song with more enthusiasm. “Stop,” I called out, and he stopped immediately, his overdrawn expression of happiness fading immediately to the blank-slate look he’d been wearing before. “Well, you know the Hokey Pokey, at least. What else do you know?”
He simply stared at me.
“Tell me what else you know,” I prompted.
Immediately, he began to speak. “I know anything that you can command me to do. I know exactly as much as you know.”
I thought about that for a minute. “So, if I told you to sing the entire score of Rigoletto…”
“You do not know the entire score of Rigoletto,” he replied in his flat voice.
“Right.” I was still wondering just what I had created when the bedroom door burst open. Bill and Ziggy ran in, looking haggard and sleep-disturbed.
“Carrie, are you all right?” Bill asked, but Ziggy immediately caught sight of the golem and charged it. The creature made no move to defend itself. It stood, rooted in place, as Ziggy tackled it to the floor.
“Ziggy, no,” I shouted, pulling him off the golem. “He’s mine. I made him.”
There was a moment of confused silence. Then, very cautiously, Bill asked, “Made him?”
The floor in the hallway creaked and Max appeared at the door. His gaze went directly to the golem, and then met mine, full of confusion. At least he didn’t rush him with the intent to kill, the way Ziggy had. “What the hell is going on?”
The golem lay on the floor were he’d landed. “Get up,” I said softly to him, offering my hand for help. He wouldn’t take it. Of course, I realized, feeling like an idiot. You told him not to touch you.
I turned back to Bill and Ziggy, who were staring at me as if I were a crazy person. “I used a spell from Dahlia’s book. We needed help. I mean, we’re going to need help to get Nathan back. More manpower. And this seemed like a logical solution.”
“So, what, he’s like, a zombie?” Ziggy cautiously approached the creature, reached out to touch him as if he hadn’t just full body tackled the thing to the floor. “He feels like rubber or something.”
“He’s made out of ash. And blood. I don’t know why he feels the way he does. To be honest, I only touched him by accident, just the once.” I shrugged. “He’s a golem.”
“Like the fairy tale?” Max asked incredulously. “The guy who has to do everything you tell it?”
I nodded. Bill considered for a moment, then motioned with his head to the golem. “Hey, you. Do the Hokey Pokey.”
The creature didn’t move. “I think I might be the only one who can do it,” I suggested. “Since I’m the one who did the spell. Golem, do whatever Bill tells you.”
“Now do the Hokey Pokey,” Bill said, but as the golem began to comply, I stopped him.
“I don’t think that’s going to get us anywhere right now,” Ziggy said, his voice full of amusement. “Can it fight? Will it be any good to us?”
“I don’t see why it couldn’t fight. It can do anything I can do.” I hoped they wouldn’t point out my lack of grace and ability in the combat arena. “That’s the catch. He can’t do something if I don’t know how to do it.”
“So, welding is right out, hot-wiring a car, that kind of stuff?” Ziggy gave the golem a little push. “What if you learn how to do it?”
“Yeah, what if I learn it?” I asked the golem. When he didn’t answer, I rolled my eyes and said, “Answer my question.”
“You would have to create another one of me,” he said, staring straight ahead.
“So, you can’t upgrade him, you just have to get a whole new model. That’s a drawback.” Max came forward to join Bill and Ziggy in examining the creature.
Ziggy shook his head. “No, man, think about it. Carrie is a doctor. This could be really useful. Not to us, but think about it on a global scale. She could drop him off at a hospital and he could help out with organ transplants and stuff.”
“I was an emergency room doctor,” I pointed out. “Didn’t do a lot of complicated surgeries.”
“Yeah, but think about how helpful he’ll be to us. Especially if she can create more.” Bill stepped away from the golem, clearly weirded out by it.
I thought of the agony of the process, the splitting pain in my head that hadn’t faded yet. “Let’s hold off on it for now, if you don’t mind. I don’t think I’m quite experienced enough to do it again right away.”
“So, we’re it then?” Ziggy asked, his expression dark. “I mean, when we go get Nathan. We’re it?”
I swallowed the lump of trepidation in my throat. “We’re it. We didn’t do so good against those creatures, did we?”
Bill’s jaw tightened as he stared at me. He didn’t say anything, and I wondered if he was waiting for me to think up something. Then, like a man coming out of a trance, he rubbed his hands together and looked from Ziggy to me, hi
s gaze sliding over the golem as if he wasn’t any more than a piece of furniture. “Okay, you can do this, and you can do the fire thing. What else can you do?”
Ziggy cut him off, shaking his head. “Bad idea. She looks like hell right now. And Nate has always said magic has a way of draining people. Like, you might get something, but it’s going to take something in return.”
“Well, thanks, I’m glad I achieved the look I was going for.” I was too tired to be truly offended. “But you’re right. I don’t think we can rely just on me for this.”
“We can run in blind, hacking and slashing our way through the place,” Ziggy said, without a trace of sarcasm. “I know my way around, and I actually think we have a pretty good chance of taking them out. At least, long enough to get Nate out.”
“I’m up for anything at this point,” Bill agreed. “We’ve wasted enough time.”
We sat in silence for a minute, then Max asked, “But just in case…Carrie, what else can you do?”
I knelt down and picked up the spell book from where I’d left it on the floor. “There are a couple of spells in here that I think I recognize. For instance, one says it will knock out your intended target. It must be the same thing she used on Bill. And one will shove them backward, so they can’t reach you. But I think I make things up on my own, as well.”
“Things like?” Max asked, and instead of answering, I went to the living room. I knew they would follow me, but I wasn’t being intentionally mysterious. I was thinking.
Aside from the potions and amulets listed in the book, most of Dahlia’s spells required nothing more than a word and a focused intention. As written, they should have required all kinds of occult materials, but those were only listed as distractions, a lot of flash and stage dressing that would have little impact on the final outcome. In some cases it would discourage someone from trying altogether. But now that I knew her secret, that her power came from within and not from toads’ eyes and graveyard dirt, I could, in theory, create any effect I wanted.
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