by Alex Owens
“You really do need to figure out how to block that better. That, or give up sex.”
I punched Clive in the thigh. “Hell no. I’ll talk to Cass and see if she has any ideas on how to batten down my mental barriers.”
After that, we laid there in silence for a while, a long while.
I liked that about Clive, he didn’t fall asleep or slap me on the ass with a “thanks for the bone” and he didn’t feel the need to fill the silence with a bunch of talking. Sometimes I just want to lay there and enjoy the rubber feeling of my limbs and the lightness in my head. That, and being able to feel my heart beating in my chest for a change.
“Was Gregor in here? Earlier, I mean.” I said, adjusting the pillow under my head.
I felt Clive stiffen beside me, and not in a good way.
“Yes, he was here.” Clive cracked his knuckles, then sighed.
“Well?” I elbowed him.
“Well, what?”
“What did he want? Normal people don’t just stop by to say hello when there’s a threesome going on. Was something the matter?”
“No, everything is fine. Gregor wanted to know if he could join in on the fun... and I told him to go away. We never discussed it, so I didn’t know your feelings on the matter.” Clive got up to retrieve a pair of flannel pajama bottoms from his dresser and the bed felt instantly colder without him next to me.
“I’m pretty sure anything over one partner is taboo, so what’s the difference between three and four?” I joked, choosing to ignore how I might feel about being with Gregor again.
The first and only time we’d hooked up had been a rather pivotal moment for me. I’d just found out that I was a Vampire. I’d also just realized that I’d had my first lesbian sex and didn’t even remember it. Oh, and the clincher? I banged Gregor in front of a bunch of other people I barely knew and almost drained a stripper dry.
Like I said, it was a crazy night.
“I wasn’t sure how you felt about two men.” He clarified, pulling his pj’s up over his legs.
“Do you even know me at all?” I scoffed and threw a pillow at him. “What’s the matter, do you have to be the biggest, badest cock in the room? Or does having another wang nearby give you the willies? No pun intended, of course.”
All kidding aside, I found that train of thought bothered me more than I’d like, so I wanted him to explain. After all, I tried very hard not to judge anyone, lest they judge me. “Seriously though, you’re not homophobic are you?”
“No, but I didn’t know if you were.” He said, shrugging his shoulders and tying the drawstring on his bottoms. He looked ready to run, like a spooked horse prancing around.
“Huh? What’s that supposed to...” I started, and then it hit me.
Oh. Right.
I had to take that in for a moment. I may not be the sharpest tool in the box, but I was pretty sure that meant Clive and Gregor didn’t just play with women together... they played together, with or without a woman in sight.
Did that bother me?
No, not in the eww-gay-sex sort of way. Mainly I was just trying to wrap my head around the mechanics. Who was the fucker and who was the fuckee? And while all that fucking was going on, just who the hell would be fucking me?
“Fuck,” I sighed and threw myself back on the bed.
I could hear Clive pacing the floor.
I needed to stare at the ceiling and clear my head. Too bad the ceiling was one giant mirror and I was forced to look at my naked self from a decent distance. My pale arms and legs lay tangled in the dark silk sheets. With blood-crusted bites marring my breasts and neck, smeared makeup and my crazy hair splayed out around me, I resembled a dead girl from a crime scene photo.
But wait, I was a dead girl. And a stupid one, at that.
“Do you enjoy sex with men?” I rolled over onto my side and looked at Clive, really looked at him. It felt in a lot of ways like I was seeing him for the first time.
He knelt beside the bed and took my hand in his. “Honestly, yes. I never thought I would. The time and place I was raised in, well, I didn’t know it was an option. But later, after taking on this immortal coil...
“You don’t have to explain it to me. If it makes you happy, I’m fine with whatever. So long as you don’t want to dress up like a big baby and have me change your diaper and slather your ass with rash cream. If you hit that level of kink, I’m out, got it?”
“Yes, Mam, understood.” Clive stood, climbed over me and pulled me back into his arms. Spooning—something else to add to the weird events of the night.
“I want to explain, though. It’s this life, which is your life now too. It changes everything, and I don’t just mean the obvious. Being a vampire makes you see things differently after a while. Humans have their morality and it serves them well over their short life spans, but a lot of that doesn’t mean a thing against the backdrop of eternity. Sin is a concept born to be a measured against the afterlife. Immortals have no need of reassurances or threats of damnation... but I’m not explaining very well, let me start at the beginning.” Clive re-situated himself on the bed so that he could see me better.
“It’s okay, you don’t have to.” I offered, unsure of where the conversation was going.
“No, I want to...Gregor and I were turned together as young men, in our early twenties. We were confined for weeks at a time while getting control over our new feeding habits, and we only had each other during those first few months. What’s worse, we knew exactly why we had been chosen and what was expected of us. Our maker had a fondness for attractive, athletic young men, you see. Over time, we accepted what would be asked of us, but we were still terrified. The fear of the pain, the not-knowing, it was awful.
“One night we decided that the best way to overcome the fear was to take the unknown out of the equation. And who better to do that to you, and with you, than the only person alive that you care about? It didn’t take too long for us to figure out that we enjoyed it, and why shouldn’t we?”
He paused, as if to find the words to win an argument that we weren’t even having.
“If sex wasn’t supposed to be enjoyed freely, it wouldn’t feel so damned good.”
Chapter Ten
The next afternoon I found myself with a few minutes to kill, and decided to try and connect with Quinn. I hit the video chatting app on my phone and waited for her to pick up the call. I didn’t have to wait too long.
Ever my daughter, Quinn answered with her eyes crossed and her tongue hanging out.
“Whatcha doing, bug?” I laid on my stomach across the foot of Clive’s massive bed.
Quinn’s face returned to her normal, cherubic expression. “Getting more supplies,” she stated matter-of-factly.
“Supplies? For what?” I asked.
“For my fort. I needed a blanket, a pillow, and some books.” She held up each aforementioned item for me to get a look at.
“Quinn, that’s my good quilt. Put that back. You can take the one from the guest room instead, okay.”
My daughter rolled her eyes at me and I suppressed a smile. She was just like me for the world. That thought was depressing though, so I circled back to the topic at hand.
“How in the world did you build a fort? And where?” I asked.
“Morgan’s helping me... and one of our neighbors.” Quinn’s sour expression told me she was still a little miffed by Wolf Boy’s constant presence. “We made it in the twisted-up crab apple tree.”
“I see. Well, be careful. I don’t want you falling out of that thing and breaking something.” I resisted the urge to roll my own eyes; I could hear my own mother’s words coming out of my mouth as I said them.
“I’ll be careful. I’m not a baby anymore, you know.” She said, looking so grown up that it pained my heart.
“I know, but you’ll always be my baby, so it’s my job to nag you forever and ever.” I smiled and blew Quinn a kiss.
She shook her head and tried not to smile.
“
I miss...” I started.
“Who’s that, Mama?” Quinn interrupted me, looking behind me and giggling.
I turned to see Clive crossing from the bathroom to his closet, wearing nothing but a skimpy white towel around his waist. Thankfully it covered the most obscene bits, but just barely. Shit on a shingle.
I quickly filled the frame of the camera with my face, mentally cursing myself. I made a note to never video chat with Quinn while at Clive’s again, unless I’d locked myself in the bathroom or something.
“No one baby,” I said quickly, trying to change the topic before she could press the issue further. “Is Morgan around?”
Quinn nodded and handed over the phone.
“Wait, I love...” I started to say before Morgan’s face filled the screen.
“She’s already out the door. I wish I had her energy,” Morgan joked.
I knew the feeling. Back when my diet consisted of meat and potatoes, I could remember many a night where I’d crawled into bed exhausted from keeping up with Quinn.
“Everything going okay?” I asked.
“Yep! Right as rain.” Morgan replied.
“Okay, well I’ll just be a couple more days. I’ll let you know when I have a firm flight scheduled.” I smiled and thanked her for taking such good care of Quinn.
After disconnecting with Morgan, I yelled at Clive. “Hey, next time you feel like walking around nude, how about check to see if I’m on the phone with Quinn.”
Clive poked his head out of the closet. “Why would that matter?”
“Uh, I don’t know... because of the live video?” I threw a pillow at him.
He ducked and chuckled, stepping out into the bedroom. “Oops. Sorry.”
My mouth dropped open.
Clive stood in nothing but his birthday suit. Even at half-mast, it was an impressive sight, and one that had me temporarily dumb. Before I could climb off the bed and devour him, Clive quickly pulled on a pair of gym shorts. The idea of him going commando almost stupefied me all over again.
“I see that look in your eye, but that will have to wait.” He smirked and threw some clothes at me.
A pair of black spandex shorts, a sports bra and a clingy tank, to be specific.
“Working out, again?” I whined. Not that it had ended badly the last time, but I wasn’t really in the mood to get beaten to a pulp again, even if it meant getting to ride the stallion afterwards.
“Not what you think. More like specialized training.” Clive pulled me by the hand and I stood.
I didn’t have much of a choice, so I decided to screw with him a little like he’d just done with me.
“Fine,” I said. “Just let me change.”
Instead of excusing myself to the dressing room, I stood my ground and slipped my shirt over my head. I tossed it on the bed. Then I unclasped my bra from behind and let my breasts sway unencumbered. Clive gulped loud enough that I could hear it all the way on the other side of the room. Good, serves him right.
To drive his delicious torture home, I turned away from him and bent over, pushing my pants and underwear down my legs and over my ankles. I stood slowly and stretched, before slipping on the sports bra and tank. Lastly, I bent once more and stepped into the tiny shorts, figuring if he could go commando, then so could I.
As I stood, Clive swept across the room and pressed himself behind me, wrapping me in his arms. He kissed my shoulder and the side of my neck and whispered, “Nice try. But we’re still training.”
With that he released me and walked out of the room. Well damn. Either I was losing my edge or that man had more control issues than a dictator. Figures.
Without anything better to do, I followed Clive out of the room and down the long hall to the training enclave. At least I had the view of his ass to enjoy during the walk. It could always be worse—see, look at me trying to be all positive.
We entered the enclave and Clive led me over to an area that had long bamboo poles in racks on the wall. He took two down and handed one of them to me. I laughed when I realized the pole he’d given me wasn’t exactly the one I was after, and the damned thing was about two feet taller than I was. I did a mental calculation, grabbed the pole with two hands, closer to one of the ends, and snapped the bamboo over my raised femur. It smarted like a sonavabitch, but I didn’t think I’d actually broken anything. Clive just shook his head and smirked.
He started swinging his pole back and forth in a figure-eight motion and I tried my best to copy his movements. After several minutes of feeling like I was twirling a baton in the front of a parade, Clive stopped, turned towards me and raised his pole in attack. I managed to block the move with my own pole, but just barely.
“Jesus, Clive. Let a girl know you’re coming please.” I smiled sweetly, mocking him. He didn’t miss my double meaning and snarked back.
“Well, maybe if you weren’t so focused on yourself, you’d see me coming a mile away.” He said, jabbing his pole in my direction.
I deflected the move with my own stick, and tried to sweep his feet while he was distracted. He leapt over my pole easily. In return, he made an attempt to sweep me off my feet and I narrowly avoided his attack that time too. There was an art to this pole fighting thing, and so far I felt like a first grader still working on a paint by numbers picture.
On a side note, I really had to come up with a better word for the bamboo weapons than the “pole” or “stick” that I kept going to, mentally. The twelve year old boy inside of me sniggered every single time. Geesh.
We went around like this for over twenty minutes and I’m proud to say that Clive only landed one blow on me. I’m ashamed to say that one blow came as a result of letting myself be sidetracked way too easily. But in my defense, when a guy like Clive adjusts his package, one can’t help but stop and stare. So I earned myself a blow to the side of my head with that one. Well worth it, in my opinion.
Finally, thank the gods, Clive threw down his pole and motioned for me to do the same. I gladly dropped my weapon and followed him away from the area. He stopped in the middle of the floor and turned to me, as if he’d just remembered something.
“Hey, are you going to tell me what information you collected during the feast last night?” Clive pointed to the south wall of the room and started walking again.
I shrugged my shoulders and joined him in walking to the elaborate climbing wall nestled into the corner, just past the knife combat room and the hole in the floor that he’d thrown me down a few days earlier. No wonder I’d not noticed the climbing area before.
“There’s not a whole lot to tell.” I watched Clive dust his hands with a sack of powder. I copied his actions and then stood facing him at the foot of the wall. “At least with the mingling aspect. Did you know that most of the female vampires hate me strictly because I’m sharing your bed?”
“I’m not surprised. They see you as an obstacle in the way of getting me, and right now I’m quite a catch. Dashing, wealthy and the most powerful man in the Americas.” He flashed a disarming smile at me, reached up to grab a fistful of rock and started to climb.
I took a moment to appreciate the scenery. Clive wore a tattered pair of loose fitting shorts that came down to his knees, and nothing else. His lean form was taut and cut in just the right way, I found myself drooling (just a tad) as he reached and flexed. His shorts sagged a little on his backside, just enough so that I could make out the way his flesh dipped in on his lower back, right above his perfectly grab-able ass.
Clive interrupted my lascivious thoughts. “Are you coming?”
“Right,” I mumbled, clapping my hands together to pump myself up.
I could do this. I wasn’t scared of heights. I wasn’t, dammit. All I had to do was grab a hold, and climb. Easy peasy. Just do it, I thought, but my feet felt like they were encased in concrete.
“So what about the Darlings?” Clive might have been trying to distract me, and if that was the case I would have to thank him later.
I took one step towards the wall. Then another. Reaching up for the first hand-hold, I spoke, my voice wavering just enough to be audible. “Oh, I’ve got plenty to tell you about them.”
Clive waited around fifteen feet above me as I slowly climbed my way upwards.
“Well, what is it? Drugs? Guns?” He asked.
I had to stretch for the next hand-hold. I could tell this wall wasn’t set up to accommodate the more petite variety of vampires, that’s for sure. When I finally had enough of a grasp that I felt more secure, I responded to Clive’s question.
“Nope. Worse.” I said, drawing up beside him. I was not going to look down. No way, Jose. Instead, I looked into Clive’s eyes and focused on them like my life was depending on it.
It might have been, but who the hell knew? I was pretty sure the fall wouldn’t kill me, but it would probably hurt enough that I’d wished I were dead. Either way, I didn’t want to find out.
“What could be worse than drugs or guns?” Clive scowled, thinking.
He moved up another body-length on the wall and waited for me to join him.
“At least I think it’s worse.” I grunted, pulling my knee up practically under my own chin to get my foot set into the next toe-hold.
Clive gave me a look that said “I’m trying to be patient, but hurry the hell up” as I pulled even with him again.
“People. It’s human trafficking. All sorts: babies, young children, teenagers, up through middle-aged men and women.” I frowned at the thoughts I’d gleaned from the Darlings. “And for all sorts of purposes.”
“Purposes?” Clive flexed his jaw, his voice held a controlled (and terrifying) tone.
I fought the urge to climb further away from him, in case he wanted to kill the messenger. Logically, I knew that he wouldn’t of course, but that didn’t stop my body from reacting to his tone.
“The usual. Sex trafficking, slavery, pedophile auctions ... uh, torture porn, and of course Vampire kibble. Darling has his hands in many disgusting pots.” I forgot myself and looked down.
Jesus H. Roosevelt Christ. We had to be fifty feet up in the air. I suddenly wished that the old vampire lore was on-point and I could just turn into a bat and fly myself down from our perch. Now that would be a nifty skill to have.