by Adrik Kemp
Beside Mack was a pile of bones and animal carcasses—his feasts for the past few days. He contemplated them, but knew he would need to hunt again. Besides, staring at the bodies reminded him of Sparky and Greg and the trail of blood that had culminated in Jason’s cruel words of rejection. He remembered each moment in succession until they overwhelmed him and tears flowed from his eyes, streaming down his face to water the earth.
Weakened as Mack was, he couldn’t maintain tears—or much of anything—for very long. They dried while he sat in the dirt, uncaring of the insects that crawled over him and flew around his head. He sat and listened to the sounds of wildlife in the bush beyond.
Birds screamed in the trees, their last songs before sleeping through the night. Nocturnal birds started making softer, deeper calls, searching for the small mammals Mack could hear scurrying through the underbrush. Insects whined and buzzed through everything. The night was not very much changed from the nights he could recall over a hundred years before, when he was human, living with his parents, tending cattle and working the land. If he closed his eyes against the onslaught of sorrow that every image brought him, he could cast his mind back and for a moment, pretend he was still there. He could imagine his heart was beating like it had once done—automatic, necessary. He remembered the aroma of his mother’s breakfast, ham and eggs on fresh bread every morning. He could taste milk untouched by modern processing and breathe air untainted with modern pollution—and listen to a world without ubiquitous engines taking people here and there and everywhere. The illusion was complete and warm and beautiful. It broke his heart to do it, but he persisted every evening, unable to accept the reality of his present.
Something large crashed in the bush behind him, drawing him out of his bittersweet reverie. He turned to look through the darkened brush for whatever had interrupted him and he was rewarded with the hint of red eyes reflecting in the moonlight. The animal snarled, crashing through the undergrowth in pursuit of another, smaller creature. As he watched the pinpricks of light draw closer, a host of small, brown rabbits bounded from the darkness, flashing by him in zigzagging hops that took some of them right by his twitching hands. He resisted the weak urge to grab one, snap its neck and drain it of what little blood it contained. Instead, he turned his attention back to the disturbance and waited while the predator grew ever closer.
White paws striped with black padded into the silvery light. They revealed the lithe form of an enormous white tiger, its fur resplendent, muscles rippling beneath. Its mouth betrayed extra-large teeth that dripped with blood. The blood stained its jaw and neck, blurring into the animal’s stomach and shadow. Its eyes, at first filled with bloodlust and rage, softened upon setting sights on Mack. The tiger faltered and stopped, panting and watching Mack in silence.
It took several minutes for the tiger to begin transforming back into a man Mack could recognize. He turned away, unwilling to look, but listened as bones cracked and fur vanished to be replaced by smooth skin over tight muscles. He closed his eyes while the other vampire wrapped his arms around Mack’s shoulders and kissed his neck with a soft, almost imperceptible, brush of lips against skin.
Mack didn’t respond at first, but after a moment, he realized the vampire’s breath was warm and that his touch buzzed with life. He glanced at the other man, taking in the pale eyes, blond hair and strong jaw of the first man he had ever fallen in love with. His lover held his gaze and smiled.
“I’m sorry,” Jason whispered.
Mack shook his head and pulled away. “I don’t want to see you.”
Jason knelt before Mack and thrust his arms out so their undersides were exposed, ancient bite marks present in ridges of scar tissue. Jason’s veins actually throbbed beneath his skin, pumping with veritable life. Mack cast his eyes between Jason’s legs and was rewarded with the vision of a thickening cock.
“Please bite me,” Jason said.
Mack’s heart began to flutter but he pulled away again. “Why do you do this to me? I never wanted to become a vampire and ever since I have, it’s just been so horrible.” He began to cry. “And yet when I’m with you, my body comes alive. There’s nothing I can do to stop it. My body just responds to you.” Mack tried to get his sobs under control. “I can’t take it anymore. I can’t kill anyone else. I don’t want to drink blood. I just want to… I just want it all to end.” He looked at Jason. “Can’t you just leave me alone and let me have that?”
Jason shook his head. “I’m sorry. I know I’m being selfish and unreasonable, and I know what you’ve been through, but I don’t want to lose you again. I didn’t want to become this way either, but here I am. And here you are. Why waste the opportunity?”
Mack thought about Sparky’s lifeless body. “Because Sparky wasn’t the first person we’ve killed, and he definitely won’t be the last.”
Jason pushed his arms out again. “Eat. Eat and get stronger, please.” He came closer and whispered into Mack’s ear. “Pretend we’re back at the farm. Pretend I’m human, you’re new to all this and I’m feeding you my own blood. Pretend none of it has happened yet and we have all our lives ahead of us.”
Mack cried anew. “It’s not that easy.”
Jason’s head fell against Mack’s shoulder. Mack could feel tears falling on his skin. He could smell sweat and blood on Jason’s body, and he could feel his heart stammering back into being from the proximity of his love. He sighed and opened his mouth, starting to salivate at the thought of blood. He cast his mind far back into the past, when he had lived in a cellar and the only member of the house to give him any solace was Jason. Beautiful, youthful Jason, with his pale features and thick accent. Kind Jason, offering his blood and knowledge to Mack, promising to guide him through his new life, swearing to never leave him alone. Fresh tears in his eyes, he lifted Jason’s scarred arm to his mouth and clamped his jaws around it. He hesitated a moment then pierced the skin with his canines, sucking at the fresh rabbit blood that poured forth. His body responded by leaping back to life, sending blood rushing through his veins, filling his heart and sending it coursing back around his limbs, bringing with it a tingling warmth and lust. Mack groaned at the onslaught of blood and memory, losing himself in the myriad of emotions it wrought within. He came up for air, gasping, feeling the chill air against his now-soaked lips and chin.
He was shocked when Jason planted his lips against Mack’s. They were tender and light at first, but the longer they remained, the more forceful they became, sucking the blood and probing within with his tongue. Mack’s eyes widened and his mind became lost in the memory of his many sexual collisions with Jason. He recalled exploratory, awkward moments under the stars, deft strokes and orgasms in crisp hotel room sheets and on rooftops, on stages and with guests. These in turn triggered further memories of Jason’s touch, his breath on Mack’s skin and the myriad connections they’d made over the decades. Mack sighed and sank into the kiss. He allowed Jason to push him against the ground and straddle his waist. Mack ran his trembling hands down Jason’s torso, over well-worn but still taut muscles and through strong blond hair until he reached the thick, dripping cock that Jason was thrusting against Mack’s stomach. Mack’s cock rose beneath Jason’s body until its shaft slid between Jason’s buttocks and its head grazed the small of his back, leaking fluid down to Jason’s hole.
Mack started to pull at Jason’s cock, slipping his fingers to the hefty balls beneath. He strained his neck forward to invite Jason to lean down and kiss him again, and he was rewarded for his effort. Jason drove his tongue deep into Mack’s throat, making him yearn for something more.
Jason untangled his tongue and ran it down Mack’s neck and over his nipples, sending shudders through Mack’s body. Jason slid his body back and down, pressing Mack’s cock straight down from his body so it could slap back against his stomach. He placed his lips over the head, the tip of his tongue sampling Mack’s semen before he enveloped the
head with his mouth. Jason massaged it while Mack writhed in pleasure beneath. The world dimmed and brightened as blood redistributed itself around his body. Mack stared up at the stars, biting back orgasm as Jason drew Mack’s cock into his mouth bit by bit until his nose was lost within Mack’s pubic hair and his throat was full.
Mack bucked and tried to pull away, but Jason held him there for as long as possible before slipping off him and gasping for air. Jason grinned, his face transforming with the expression back into that of the young man Mack had fallen in love with. Mack pulled himself up and kissed Jason, pushing him back and performing the same seductive path down his body. He flicked his tongue over Jason’s cock and slid it into his mouth. The taste of Jason’s cum at the back of his throat made Mack’s cock leak onto his chest. Mack thrust back and forth down Jason’s cock until it heated up within him, burning with lust. He pulled away and flipped Jason over, planting his face between Jason’s buttocks and probing his hole. He slobbered his way around Jason’s balls before drawing back and plunging his cock deep inside. He planted his hands on Jason’s hips and started riding him. He pushed and gyrated his hips with endless passion until he fell against Jason’s back, his mouth in Jason’s hair, licking at the soft lobes of his ears, whispering gasps of lust and love at him and groaning as Jason turned his head to join him in a kiss. The sensation of Jason’s lips on his, the murmured affirmations of love and the throbbing of his hole around Mack’s cock sent him into early orgasm and he cried out in pleasure, emptying his balls into Jason. His cum dribbled out around his shaft, splattering against his taut thighs and down into the dirt. Mack tried to pull his cock out but Jason put his hand around to keep Mack inside.
Biting his lip, Mack continued to thrust, closing his eyes and losing his mind in the hot, sticky sensation within Jason’s body. He reached around to grab at Jason’s cock, pumping it hard with one hand and fondling his balls with the other. He thrust and pumped and pulled until Jason groaned then shouted his orgasm to the wilderness. His cum splattered in thick ropes over Mack’s hand and onto the dirt and rocks beneath them. Both of them rose up on their knees, still connected, and kissed with careless passion, lost in the throbbing afterglow of their love.
Jason broke it first and smiled, looking into Mack’s eyes, pecking him with light kisses.
Mack cast his eyes away for the barest moment then looked back, vowing within himself never to look away again, and never to let go of the beautiful man in his arms. “I love you.”
Jason smiled and laughed with relief. Tears shone in his eyes and he kissed Mack once more. “I love you too.”
Epilogue
The night air was crisp and roared with the cheers of the crowd. The smell of barbecued meat and fried onions, horses, sweat and hay assaulted the nostrils. The roar of the crowd filtered past the stalls and through his ears, but he was ignoring it to concentrate on the animal beneath him. The horse was calm for the moment, the many hands of his assistants keeping it sedate while they waited for Mack’s turn to shine. Its coat was deep brown and mottled with salt and pepper strands. The mane was thick and rich, flowing back onto Mack’s hands as they held the reins. The saddle between his legs was sturdy and strong, and Mack gripped it tightly with his thighs.
Mack was dressed in a blue and white flannel shirt, tucked into his jeans, with brown leather chaps on over them. His boots were pointed and glazed with copper and on his head sat a red, leather wide-brimmed hat, its brim shadowing Mack’s cold, intent eyes.
The announcer came over the loudspeaker and introduced him to the crowd, “Up next, we have the bucking bronco of rodeo himself, up and coming star Davey McIntyre. This is Davey’s sixteenth rodeo and fourth time in the top three. Let’s see what he’s made of.”
A beeping countdown began and after three strikes, changed pitch and the gates opened. Mack’s horse bounded into the dirt arena. He was surrounded by cheers as the horse threw up its back legs, bucking Mack backward and forward in attempts to get him off. Mack held tight with his knees, digging his boots into the horse’s haunches. He refused to let go of the reins, counting in his mind the amount of time he needed to stay saddled to win. When there were a few seconds remaining, he relaxed and allowed the horse to throw him off.
Mack landed like a professional, dust blooming around him as he rolled out from under the horse. The crowd cheered, and he looked up at the glowing scoreboard to check his times and scores. He’d missed the mark by a few seconds as planned but would make it through to the next round. He fist-pumped the air and roared with victory. The crowd followed suit. Mack grinned, tipped up his cap and surveyed the people. Most were locals, some were tourists but all were dressed like he was. All had dust on their bodies and the land in their hearts. His smile grew wider still as his eyes came to rest on his lover, Jason, seated on the fence, clad in blue jeans and a red flannel shirt. His hat was on his knee, and he was applauding. Mack grinned and winked at Jason. Beside his lover, his father was also grinning. He was in black jeans and a tight white T-shirt. He was bigger and burlier than Jason and had a thick, dark beard these days. Mack strode through the arena to their side and nodded at his father.
Jason jumped off his perch and into Mack’s arms. Mack spun him around and kissed him, their tongues meeting in passion. Mack closed his eyes and the world dimmed and grew faint, as all he could feel were his lover’s arms around him, his father beside him and peace at last in his heart.
Blood of the Land
Excerpt
Chapter One
The old cattle station glowed at dawn. The sun scattered orange-rimmed silhouettes of trees, scrub and fence palings across the landscape—green covered distant hills, mist drying as the day brightened. Dew dripped from the edges of long, yellowing strands of grass, capturing sparkling moments in the sun’s birth. The new world was a far cry from the soot-covered brick and endless, uneven cobblestones of England. It had seen just over a century of European colonization that showed no signs of abating in the near future. In the cities and across the world, the impending turn of the century promised a twentieth where dreams might come true. But on mornings such as this, with buttercream sunlight spotting the new pastures and frost glittering over the grass, the hustle and bustle of the cities seemed a very distant dream.
Allen watched color come into the world from the edge of the balcony that surrounded his home. The wooden slats of the house were painted white to reflect the heat, and dotted around the edges were the starts of small rose bushes, poised to take over the building with a little love and attention. Corrugated tin covered the one and a half stories into which Allen hoped to grow a large family. For the moment, though, he sipped tea from a battered ceramic cup and smoked a hand-rolled cigarette, puffing the greenish-blue smoke into the sky.
“Are you outside, my love?” Evelyn’s voice broke Allen from his ruminations. He turned to see her carrying their breakfast plates and cutlery out to the water pump to wash them. Clad in a long, white dress, cinched at the waist and edged with dirty frills, she cut a hard-working figure against the rising sun. As always, her brunette hair was strung up on top of her head, oily strands slipping across her forehead and over her ears.
Allen nodded his reply, took one last drag of his cigarette and swig of his tea and handed her the cup. She placed it on her pile of dishes. He leaned over and kissed her on the forehead, smelling and tasting the sweat and oil on her skin. She smiled and blushed, looking inside with a coy glance.
“What’s wrong?” Allen asked.
“Mack’s inside. He might see us.”
“And what of it? You’re my wife. And our son’s a grown man. He needs to know how to treat a woman right.”
Evelyn blushed and pulled away, taking her clattering pail of crockery with her down the rickety wooden stairs. She tramped over gravel and grass to the pump at the side of the house. “He’s a good boy,” she said over her shoulder. “He’ll make a girl very happy
one day.”
“Yes he will, ma’am.” Allen picked up his wide-brimmed hat, slipped it on his head and gave it a genteel tip to his wife. “See you tonight.”
“Yes, dear,” she said before she vanished behind the house.
Allen looked inside a moment before calling out, “Mack? Come ‘ere, son.” He brushed off his beige shirt, dirty from the previous day’s work and not due for a wash for at least another day or two. He tucked it into his trousers and under his belt and shuffled his feet into his worn leather boots. He heard his son appear before he saw him, similar boots clapping on the wooden deck.
“What is it, Dad? Ready to go?”
Allen squinted at his son. Mack looked like a younger, more strapping version of him. They shared the same dark hair and complexion, a brooding brow and thick eyebrows overshadowing dark eyes. But Mack had the bone structure of his mother, high cheekbones and solid jaw, different from Allen’s slim face and leathered cheeks. Nonetheless, in the right light, with his wide-brimmed hat overshadowing his face, Mack looked just like Allen.
“See out there?” Allen pointed in the direction of the cattle run, past the stable, the three horses they managed to keep alive and healthy and over the endless plains of green and yellow foliage, becoming ever brighter by the moment.
“See what?”
“This new land of ours. It’s beautiful.”
Mack shrugged. “It’s not new to me.”