Incubus Trial

by Emma Jaye

  One morning, after a particularly brutal session with Morvan, he’d woken up to Silas sucking him. To thank the vampire, Ezra reached down, and under the cover of the blanket, drew a sharp nail across his inner thigh. A tug on Silas’s hair directed him to the stinging spot. Hot breath touched his sensitive skin and Silas froze. For a second, Ezra cringed that he’d fucked up.

  The sting increased as a warm tongue ran over the tiny wound and then Silas’s mouth fastened on it. Ezra gasped at the pain, hoping that if anyone was listening, they’d assumed Silas was damn good at sucking, which was true.

  A finger rubbed at his entrance and then pressed in. The joint sensation of pain and having his prostate pegged had Ezra writhing in pleasure and hunger. He could sense the energy he needed, hovering just out of reach, like his climax.

  “Silas, please, I need–”

  The vampire climbed up his body, a growl rumbling from his chest. Ezra rolled up, locking his heels behind Silas’s neck as the vampire entered him and thrust hard. Fangs still extended, Silas kissed him, letting him taste the coppery blood he’d taken. The vampire had never been this passionate, this explosive before.

  Ezra tore his mouth away long enough to gasp, “Feed me, for fuck’s sake, feed–”

  Silas pummelled him, eyes red as he bared his blood-stained fangs. The lust flowing from Silas made his head spin, but he sensed even more lurking under the surface. Tilting his chin up and to the side, he offered his throat. His body jerked as Silas roared and emptied inside him. Silas’s energy and his own orgasm kicked like a dray horse.

  He came back to himself as Silas chuckled, his forehead resting on Ezra’s. The vampire lifted his head and brown eyes stared into his before he placed a tender kiss on Ezra’s forehead.

  “You’re very bad.”

  Ezra stroked the vampire’s sweaty hair back and unlocked his feet from around Silas’s neck.

  “Don’t forget exceptionally bendy.” The comment elicited a tired chuckle, but Silas didn’t move as Ezra expected. Instead, he carried on stroking Ezra’s hair, gazing into his eyes.

  “Going to get off or are we going for a freak show Siamese twins act, joined at the dick?”

  His joke didn’t make Silas smile.

  “Don’t do that again.”

  “What, tell a shit hot joke? It’s not my fault you have no sense of humour.”

  “I meant offering your throat. You taste...” Silas closed his eyes and drew in a shaky breath. “If the collar hadn’t been there, I would’ve taken what you offered. Not even an incubus survives being drained.”

  Ezra pressed his hips up, even though he’d lost his erection as Silas was no longer turned on.

  “So, I’m tasty then?”

  Silas closed his eyes and heaved a deep breath. When he opened them, his eyes were tinged red. “My dear, ignorant, Ezra, you’re playing with fire you don’t understand. The occasional nip we might be able to hide, but if I’d taken what you’d offered, even if you didn’t die, I would’ve. My father would rip my head off. I saw him do it to my older brother and he liked Julius a hell of a lot more than he likes me.”

  The thought of being here without Silas made his blood run cold.

  A smile twitched the thin lips before Silas pecked him on the cheek. “Nice to know you care, but I have no intention of going anywhere. Just be careful to whom you offer your blood.”

  One day bled into the next although Ezra had no idea if they were actual days. The temperature gradually fell again.

  That Fabian didn’t reappear, was both a relief and a worry. Ezra wanted to know why, but was scared that asking the question would cause the bastard to appear like a bad penny. Instead, he planned his next course of action, as he did with all the vampires.

  CHAPTER 19

  When he woke with Silas nowhere to be seen, he knew something was up. Ezra’s skin prickled as the door clicked open. The damn boots clicking on the stone steps gave away his visitor as loudly as a town crier shouting, ‘oh yea’.

  Ezra pushed down the fear and implemented his plan. He greeted Fabian with, “Hello Master, come to play with your toy?”

  The vampire smiled in satisfaction. “Finally learned your lesson?”

  Ezra grinned even though his heart pounded. “Nope. I’m just messing with your head, you baggy arsed, old–”

  Fabian lunged forward. Ezra shut his eyes, praying that the first hit would render him unconscious.

  “Wait,” rang out from the shadows. When the hoped for impact to his head didn’t occur, Ezra’s heart fell. Cringing, he opened an eye.

  Silas stood beside his father; both stared at him. The tips of Fabian’s fangs rested on his lower lip, and his eyes were scarlet. Silas’s mouth turned down, disappointment radiating from him. Neither glowed with lust.

  “Did you say he’s trying to manipulate me into knocking him out?”

  “Yes, my Lord. He attempts to manipulate everyone who comes down here and he’s often successful. I’ve discussed it with Stephen and several others. He uses various techniques, being submissive, cheeky, obstinate, aggressive or he makes deals, promises better service. We’ve let it go because most find it entertaining.”

  Oh fuck. Fear and regret clawed for supremacy. Both vampires drew in a sharp breath, savouring his emotions.

  Words fell out of his mouth as he tried to lessen the coming violence. “That’s what I’m here for isn’t it, to be entertaining? If I just rolled over, I’d be boring, right? Silas is right, in a way, I plan how to please each of you, not just prevent getting hurt.

  “Fabian, you like my fear and you loved beating me that first night, so I try to piss you off. You get angry and release a bit of steam from your responsibilities. That’s what you want, I can tell, it’s what I do. Doesn’t mean I enjoy having the shit beaten out of me. If you knock me out, it doesn’t hurt for long. I know you’re not like Morvan, you don’t carry on once I’m out. You like me to react. I knew Silas was there, so I risked a little more. Tell me you don’t want–”

  “Shut up,” Fabian growled.

  Ezra clamped his lips together his gaze flicking from father to son. He knew Silas was fond of him, but there was no way the son would attempt to defend him physically from his father, even if he could.

  A squeak of fear left his lips as Fabian’s fangs were now an inch away from his face. Even though Silas had told him not to, he tilted his chin up, exposing the soft skin under his chin. His heart banged in his chest, but along with aggression, he now felt arousal radiating from the powerful being.

  “Want to crop my arse now?”

  A growl rumbled up from Fabian’s chest. “How about I cut out that quick tongue of yours instead?”

  Ezra lowered his chin, staring Fabian in the eye. “You’re the scariest fucking thing I’ve ever met. My arse can’t decide whether to let loose or clamp so tight it hurts. My balls are trying to climb back up inside me and my dick is about to explode because I want you so much. But I think you and a lot of your clan would miss my tongue.”

  “Show me.”

  The speed at which Ezra fell to his knees rivalled a vampire.

  He was well on the way to making Fabian feed him, when one of the vampire’s hands moved from his now shoulder length hair to the buckle at the back of his collar. He froze.

  “Going to fight me if I have a little nibble, toy?” Fabian’s voice was as honeyed as his son’s, but it had a cold edge that Silas’s didn’t.

  The sensible thing would be to give in, to not piss off the scary vampire any more than he was already. Instead, he gripped the vampire’s wrists.

  Fabian’s eyes pulsed red. “Do you want to be hung from the ceiling and beaten first?”

  Ezra’s eyes flicked up to the eyelets in the ceiling. No, he didn’t want that. But he couldn’t bring himself to give Fabian a verbal answer. Instead, finger by finger, he released Fabian’s wrists.

  “Shame,” the senior vampire said as he continued to unbuckle the collar.

&nbs
p; “Will you beat me if I fight?”

  Fabian halted, his eyebrows raised.

  Ezra swallowed. “I don’t want you to do this, but you’re going to do it anyway. If fighting gets me beaten as well as bitten, I’ll lay here like a dead fish. If it doesn’t, I’ll try to rip your balls off.”

  A low growl echoed through the cellar. “Are you, toy, trying to manipulate your master?”

  Ezra swallowed again as the collar came loose. He’d hated it with a passion when it’d first been put on; now, he wanted back more than he wanted clothes.

  “No, I’m trying to survive. You can’t blame a chap for that, can you? Besides, I’d really like to hurt you.”

  “You stopped swearing.”

  “It was pissing you off.”

  Fabian chuckled at his quick answer, and Ezra worked not to sway with relief, even though he was on his knees. His lips were quirking in a smile when the vampire struck.

  One of the vampire’s arms wrapped around his head, his hand wrenching Ezra’s chin up. The other went around his back, pinning him against the demon’s chest. But only one of Ezra’s arms was secured by the move.

  Stamping on the vampire’s toes distracted him enough for the incubus to slap his palm against the vampire’s chin. Fabian’s mouth snapped shut and Ezra danced back.

  “What the hell are you doing?” Silas shouted.

  “I’m a toy; I’m playing,” Ezra told him, not taking his eyes off Fabian who was examining the blood on his thumb. It was coming from a cut on his lip that his own fang had caused.

  MOISTURE ON HIS LIPS woke him and he sucked greedily on the sweet, heavenly apple juice. All too soon it was taken away. He vaguely remembered this happening before, so this time he forced his eyes open. The view of the cellar was the same, Silas had him on his lap, propped up against his chest.

  “How long?”

  “Enough to heal.”

  The conversation played through in Ezra’s mind, so he didn’t bother wasted effort on saying the words.

  “Not going to ask what happened?” Silas leaving off the ‘my dear’ made Ezra wonder if something had changed between them.

  Ezra shifted, expecting pain but felt only a little stiffness and weakness. After that last cheeky shot, he remembered movement, then... The chances of Fabian knocking him out immediately after what Silas had said were nil.

  “Does it matter, if you took my memory of it?”

  “It matters enough that he’ll do worse next time if you disobey him.”

  Ezra shrugged, sat up, shifted off the vampire’s lap and checked the collar around his neck. He hated that he found it reassuring.

  “Shit happens here, Silas.”

  “He nearly drained you.”

  Throwing back the blanket, Ezra stood, swaying as his head buzzed for a second, then walked to the centre of the mat and lifted his arms in a stretch.

  Warm arms went around him, and he leaned back into the vampire’s embrace.

  “He said he’d kill you if you give your blood to anyone else.”

  Ezra snorted in derision. “If he thinks that was giving, he needs a dictionary. Giving requires a conscious gift, that was stealing.”

  He expected the soft sigh from the taller demon. “My dear, you’re still not getting this. He can’t steal from you; he owns you. Your blood is his, not yours. You have no ‘yours’.”

  I’ve got my books. Ezra’s eyes flicked over to where his twenty-three books were hidden under the bed. He’d gathered them for ‘extra enthusiasm’ or allowing an occasional cut, or broken digit, to go unmentioned. He pushed away from Silas, moving into a deep lunge.

  “No breakfast today? I’ve been feeding you while you slept, as have Stephen and Robert, but you need to get your strength back.”

  Trying to keep his movement fluid, he put his hands on the mat and pushed up into a handstand. Even though Silas’s long, lean, pale body was familiar, he looked different upside down.

  “Do I have a choice?”

  “No, but it’s polite to ask, don’t you think?”

  Ezra managed to do the splits front to back and then sideways before Silas grabbed him.

  WHEN IT WAS OVER, SILAS washed him with slow, deliberate care. The vampire focused on every inch of skin, as if committing every hair, every blemish, to memory. The time Silas spent on Ezra’s back told him he had some new scars.

  “Do you like being my babysitter?”

  “I love it. You, my dear, are the most fascinating, delectable creature I’ve ever had the pleasure to meet.”

  Silas grinned and patted Ezra’s thigh. “Come on, lover boy, up and at them, we’ve got a waiting list.”

  CHAPTER 20

  By Ezra’ reckoning, years had passed; he’d lost count of times the average temperature had changed. The cellar had altered a little since he’d got here, the bed was larger; sofas had been installed for those who wanted to watch him exercise, or get fucked.

  Stephen had hung a long punchbag, much to his own amusement, from one of the eyehooks in the ceiling where Ezra occasionally dangled in chains.

  His muscle mass had increased, and his chest broadened. Looking down at himself, he didn’t think any human would call him ‘boy’ now, although some of the vampires still used it as a derogatory term.

  Occasionally, very occasionally, Silas removed the collar, so he could wash the area, but Stephen was always around. Probably because they didn’t trust each other not to take the blood vessels in his neck, which were ‘the best’. Most of them gnawed on his shoulders during sex at one time or another, but if he was honest, pain at the right moment, just sent him higher.

  The only one who fed openly from his neck was Fabian, although he often didn’t remember those visits clearly. He exchanged reading material for larger volumes of blood with the five he considered trustworthy. There were still only twenty or so books hidden under the bed, but they gradually changed. He took great care to only give a book back to the vampire who had lent it to him.

  Most of them probably thought they were the only one he did it with, and shit would hit the fan if they found out about each other. Even though he didn’t get much time to look at them, the books reminded him that the world existing outside of his prison, and he might see it again one day.

  His groin was a popular puncture site as they could pretend to be doing something else under the blanket if disturbed. Being constantly naked made it difficult to hide the evidence, although he occasionally suffered beatings to conceal the evidence with a bruise. He always made sure they took his blood at the start of a visit, so the puncture marks healed before the next one.

  The repetitive lecture dished out by Silas, and sometimes Stephen, when he’d been particularly bolshie or depressed, that he helped the clan avoid trouble with humans, always pissed him off. He learned to endure it from Silas, as it usually came with touching that wasn’t sexual.

  What the hell did they think he’d feel? Pride that being a victim of abuse stopped the ‘villagers’ descending on the vampires with torches and pitchforks? Perhaps, if it ever happened, he’d regret the deaths of Silas, Stephen and strangely enough, Morvan. Even though the demon had been choking him unconscious every few days since he’d arrived, he‘d been consistently honest and straightforward.

  The day started like any other. Silas climbed out of bed, strode across the floor and lit the lantern. It was winter again. So when Ezra wasn’t exercising, he stayed in bed.

  Silas handed him a mug of juice. Ezra couldn’t remember the last time he’d been on his own for more than an hour. Silas was always there, in the morning at night and after certain visitors. In the dark, after the sex, and what had become a routine draw of blood from his thigh, Silas talked to him. Sharing stories about the past and disputes between clans and individual vampires. Their disparate positions couldn’t be changed, but alone at night, Ezra dreamed that things were different, that he and Silas were more than keeper and toy.

  All in all, life had settled, and thoug
hts of the past or the future faded. Ezra concentrated on avoiding non-essential pain and entertaining his visitors to get more energy. Fabian brought non-clan vampires in sometimes. Ezra accepted being a congratulatory gift for a business deal with more than a little pride. That he was important, wanted and needed here, gradually sank in. His mother had barely given him the time of day.

  Silas had been stealing glances at him, even more than usual, since they’d woken up, and he’d been quiet last night.

  “What’s got your underwear in a bind, trouble in bloodsucker land?” he said and took a mouthful of juice.

  The silent stare of the vampire, his unkempt hair, and beard shadow, made Ezra’s thoughts turn to a second breakfast. Silas traced one of the many old bite marks on Ezra’ shoulder.

  “Do you mind if I have a taste?”

  “As long as no one’s booked in for the next hour, knock yourself out.”

  Silas pulled the blanket over them. The vampire’s spot of choice for feeding today was the top of Ezra’s inner bicep. The bite didn’t cause Ezra to twitch anymore, but the flair of lust from the vampire did.

  Silas had once likened feeding from him to an orgasm in his mouth. His blood apparently tasted like fortified wine whereas humans had more of a watery, ‘beer’ flavour. As he’d never had either beverage, the enthusiastic descriptions meant little.

  As Silas moaned in appreciation, Ezra’s hips rolled, pressing his erection up against Silas’s. The vampire’s sucking increased in enthusiasm. Ezra manoeuvred himself until Silas penetrated him with both his fangs and his cock.

  “Do it; you know you want to.”

  Silas froze, so Ezra prompted him again. “He was here yesterday; he won’t visit again in the next few days. You want it, I want it, and he won’t–”