by Emma Jaye
“As far as I know, being with one of my kind extends a human’s lifespan by thirty or forty years. But you don’t become immortal.”
“Are you immortal?” Matilda asked.
“How old’s the oldest human you’ve been with?” the black man asked.
Ezra knelt in front of Sid’s cell. The man hastily pulled out his erect cock and shoved it through the bars. “How old are you, Sid? They took me before I was adult. And as far as I know, you’re the only human I’ve ever been with.”
With that statement, he wrapped his tongue around the heavily scented cock and his hand around his meal’s balls.
A WEEK OF NOTHING BUT human had Ezra wishing for something a little stronger, much quieter and far less fragrant. The five men and Matilda only stayed silent when a vampire delivered their meals and collected their stinking waste buckets.
Although Sid delivered more potent energy than the others, he wasn’t as strong or as horny as a vampire. Ezra found himself having to work hard for every meal.
The vampires never came alone, and despite his posing and attempts at seduction, none fed him. The humans were on a bread and water diet, and it appeared he was on the sex demon equivalent. He went from one human to the next, using his mouth and fingers, to elicit energy. But apart from the enthusiastic, cooperative Sid, he hadn’t penetrated, or been penetrated by any of them.
At first, Matilda’s father kept up a constant verbal barrage as Ezra fingered his daughter. The movements required were more delicate than with a male. But she produced her own lubricant, just as he did. Her squeals when she came were a higher pitch, and the energy was a little sweeter, but apart from that, it was merely food. There was no emotional connection, no wish to sleep in her arms as he had with Silas.
When his hunger no longer gnawed at him, Ezra returned to his lonely bed, and pulled the pillow over his head. It didn’t help to shut out his Silas-free world. Damn the bastard for making me miss him.
The stories the humans told each other depressed him further. They were so much more interesting than his own life. The black man, Dawit, had travelled with his parents as a child from Ethiopia. They were leather merchants, but had come into conflict with English traders. The dispute had ended with the death of one of their rivals. Dawit had been sentenced to hang.
The others all had similar stories. Apart from Sid, all had been convicted of murder; all thought their sentences were unwarranted.
CHAPTER 22
Ezra stayed under the blankets as cell doors clanged and buckets sloshed. The vampires never paid him attention anymore. The longer it lasted, the more worried he became about his future. What use is a toy if no one plays with it?
“Ezra, hey Ezra, wake up.” Sid’s voice broke the silence.
Knowing the man wouldn’t shut up, Ezra peeked from under the blanket. Sid jabbed his finger at the floor near the stairs. With a sigh, Ezra sat up holding the rough cloth around his shoulders. All six humans had their eyes glued to the same spot. With a sigh, Ezra followed their gazes.
A key, attached to a large ring, lay on the floor near the stairs.
“Hurry up, let us out,” Dawit said, his body vibrating with enthusiasm.
The one man who hadn’t fed him, hadn’t engaged, spoke up and all eyes turned to him.
“Don’t be stupid. He’s not going to release us. In case you haven’t noticed, his chain doesn’t have a key. He can’t come with us, and he’ll starve on his own. Besides, if we escape, who’s the first person they’ll blame? He’d be signing his own death warrant, and he knows it. Look at him.”
Hope shone on their faces. Faces that would age, and die while he sat here. Matilda’s father, Rodney, would probably die a natural death in less than a decade even if he escaped. Sid could have another forty years of happy life. He didn’t deserve to die for finding other men attractive, but he also needed to know the odds of success.
“The chances of you getting away are virtually nil. They are faster, stronger and see better in the dark than a cat. I’m a demon too. I’m far stronger than any of you, and I don’t have a chance against any of them.”
“If we sit here, does it make those chances any greater?” Ezra met Sid’s eyes and shook his head.
“Please, Ezra, give us that chance,” Matilda pleaded. She looked so young and beautiful. It didn’t surprise him that she had been able to seduce multiple men into marriage at the behest of her father.
With a heavy heart, his stood and walked toward the key. The cuff on his wrist stopped him about seven feet from his goal. A collective groan of disappointed sounded behind him. Without pause, he slid to his side, stretched out, hooked the key ring with his toes and flicked it toward the cells.
Returning to his bed, he lay down, turning his back on the humans.
A hand landed on his back. “You may be a demon, but you’re a good man. I’m sorry.” Sid pressed his lips against Ezra’s temple, and then he was gone, scampering up the stairs Ezra hadn’t touched since he arrived.
Time ticked by, and Ezra waited for screams. A small kernel of hope formed as it remained dark and quiet. He’d wanted to spend his life helping humans, and perhaps he’d finally succeeded.
“The experiment is over.” Fabian’s voice coming from a few feet away didn’t make him jump, even though he hadn’t heard the vampire approach. Whatever Fabian was talking about, Ezra didn’t want to know.
“The human you didn’t touch carried on running. The four you did, didn’t make it past the gate before trying to come back for you. Even though you didn’t come in any of them, they were thoroughly addicted to you.
Morvan killed the running human but the avarice demon who fucked you, didn’t look back. They are less specialised than your lot, but are also a lesser demon species. He’s probably off persuading some poor human to gamble away a fortune or eat himself to death as we speak.
Sid was a demon?
“Now we know that Silas’s addiction to you is mental rather than physical. We can resume general access to you, but you’ll no longer have a specific keeper. However, before that happens, you need one more lesson.”
Ezra rolled over. Robert, Bones, Arturo, and Morvan stood by the bottom of the stairs, each holding one of the humans with his hand across their mouth.
“These four are addicted to you. Even with freedom stretched out in front of them, they will always come back to you like loyal dogs. They are now yours. It’s up to you what you do with them, although I advise culling the old one. However, you could get decades of use out of the other three, and if you let them breed, you could have generations of feeders. Of course, if you’re not obedient, they will suffer.” Fabian’s voice showed no emotion, no care.
“I wonder if the little female will be the first to survive Morvan’s attentions? How many times can the dark one have his fingers broken before you need to hand feed him? Put them back in their cells.”
“What did you do to us?” Dawit shouted as Bones pushed him toward the same cell he’d occupied hours before. A scream ripped from him and he cradled his hand to his chest.
“Oops,” Bones said with a smile. “You humans are so fragile.”
Matilda sobbed and cried out, trying to defend herself from Morvan’s grabbing hands. Ezra closed his eyes as fabric ripped.
Her father’s shouted, “Leave her alone you brute.”
“Morvan, you can have her later, now we need to teach our disobedient pet exactly who he, and his blood, belongs to.”
Ezra sat up warily, knowing he couldn’t avoid whatever they were planning. The clan leader and his second moved so fast they blurred. Ezra found himself hanging by his wrists from the ceiling, his feet several inches from the ground.
“Please, please don’t hurt him; he didn’t do anything,” Matilda pleaded.
Sweat broke out over his body. Oh fuck, oh fuck, oh fuck. His mind chanted the words as the rest of the clan filed in. Several of them savoured the air, scenting his and the humans’ panic. They won’t kill m
e; he said that. I can get through this, whatever it is.
Fabian addressed the crowd. “You all know how important it is to obey clan rules. We don’t have many, but ignoring a specific directive from your clan leader has consequences.
“This clan possession was told of the consequences of letting someone feed from him. Much to my embarrassment, he conspired with my son, and Stephen, when we were away. Their actions damaged a valuable clan asset.
“You know the well-deserved penalty Stephen earned.” A murmur went around the room, but no one appeared to disagree with Fabian being judge, jury, and executioner.
“Therefore, I have decided to combine his punishment with an educational opportunity for my son.” A ripple of applause ran through the room.
A noise at the top of the stairs had his eyes shooting over. Silas was coming down the stairs, holding a glowing brazier in one gloved hand.
Fabian held up a cast iron rod, like a fire poker, but this one had a fancy ‘F’, two inches long, on the top.
“This is my symbol; our clan symbol. Everyone who uses our toy will be faced with it, to help them remember not to take more than they are due.”
Fuck, that’s a brand, a fucking brand.
The sight kicked his mouth into gear. “Silas, tell them, tell them it was Stephen’s idea, that I didn’t say anything to you because he threatened me.”
Silas took the brand from his father, his face blank, and buried it in the glowing coals. His father smiled. “I know this won’t be easy, but you need to prove you’re not under his influence; that you’re fit to be called my heir.”
“He tried to beguile me, father, but I’m stronger than any magic a young incubus can wield.”
The voices of the three addicted humans pleading his case almost drowned out Silas’s words.
“Would you lot shut up? You’re not helping,” he snapped before turning his attention back to the most important person in his life.
“Silas, I never tried to do anything to you, I promise; I–”
Silas stoked the brand in the coals, held it up to check the temperature then shoved it back in. He didn’t even look at Ezra. The bands of fear surrounding his heart tightened, and he began babbling at the thought of his flesh being seared.
“Silas, please, has a witch been at you or something? For the love of everything we’ve shared, I’ll do anything, anything you want. I need you back, I–”
“Hold him. Buttocks first, I think, then we’ll move up the body,” Fabian announced.
A shriek of fear barrelled out of his throat as Morvan stepped forward and wrapped one arm around his thighs and another around his waist.
Ezra switched the focus of his begging as Silas didn’t react. “Morvan, Morvan please, don’t do this. We’ve had some good times, right? You like the way I look; that many brands will be so ugly, you–”
Morvan looked up at him. “As long as you still squirm, and it stops being drained by idiots, I’m all for it.”
Over Morvan’s shoulder, he could see Silas checking the glowing brand again.
He’s going to do it; he’s really going to fucking do it. His breath came in short, sharp pants as he tried to twist free of Morvan’s impossibly secure hold.
Fabian took a deep breath. “Hmm, pure terror, nothing quite like it in the world. I think it’s even better from a long-lived species; humans frighten and die so easily.”
“Please, please don’t Master. I promise, I’m yours, forever, Master, please I’ll never let anyone but you feed again, I’ll scream, I promise. I’d rather starve than do anything to–”
Morvan swung him around so his back was to the rest of the vampires. He was now facing the humans, back in their cages, who he had unwittingly addicted. If he’d left them alone, they would be free now.
Dawit sobbed, his shoulders shaking as he cradled his broken hand against his body. Matilda stretched her hand through the bars toward him, her face red and awash with tears. Her father, Rodney, just staring at him. A single, silent tear ran down the old human’s cheek. In a way, seeing the older man’s devastation was the worst. He’d held out longer than the others. Ezra had worked hard to get him to capitulate, to produce the lust he then stole along with his will. Maybe I do deserve this, but they don’t.
“Make sure you know where you are going to brand, ensure it’s clean. Take your aim, let the person holding the subject know he needs to brace, then press firmly and without hesitation. Any movement risks creating a less than crisp, clean outline. To keep the brand as long as possible, you need to go through several layers of skin.
“The scars last forever on a human, but I’ve never tried it on an incubus. We might have to reapply periodically. If that happens, we can change who does the actual branding, but I think we should do as good a job as we can this first time, in case they are permanent.”
“Yes, my Lord.” The was no inflection in Silas’s voice.
“Right, so this is where I want the first one.” Fingers brushed the top of his left buttock. Ezra jerked as if the slight touch was the actual brand. “If we have it too far down, someone fucking him might not see it. Here, anyone taking him from behind will see it. We’ll add one to his chest and the top of his back too.”
Ezra clamped onto the only logical possibility. They’re trying to frighten me; they’re not really going to do it. They’ll stop in a minute. I’ve learned my lesson; they must know that. He might whip me or something, but they won’t, they can’t, do this to a fellow demon.
A few feet away, Dawit’s shoulders still shook. Like a lightning strike, Ezra realised that it hadn’t been so long ago that humans branded and treated men like Dawit as chattels. Most of the vampires in this room were hundreds of years old. They’d probably seen this done hundreds of times. And humans survived it.
Morvan’s grip on him tightened. Something hit his lower back. In a surreal instant, he heard and smelt his own flesh sizzle before white-hot agony seized his body. His scream echoed round the room as the vampires cheered.
Gasping and whimpering, Ezra found himself swung around to face the vampires. Silas was in front of him, still holding the glowing brand.
“Oh fuck. No, no more, please Master, I’ve learned my lesson I promise, I’ll never do–”
Silas stared right into eyes, and mouthed ‘watch me.’ Like a drowning man, Ezra clung to the shred of hope the vampire dangled.
As the brand pressed into his flesh a second time, Silas’s eyes glowed as bright as the fire as he lips formed the word, ‘sleep’.
CHAPTER 23
Snot and tears flowed down the beautiful face that Silas had seen grinning or gasping in pleasure too many times to count. The pain, disappointment and justified accusation in those eyes removed any hesitation. This was wrong, no matter what his father said.
Fabian claimed Ezra had beguiled him, had addicting him to his sex demon charms. That might be true, but Silas had chosen to be with him, to spend extra time with him. If an addiction had occurred, it hadn’t been a conscious decision on Ezra’s side. And he had chosen to take Ezra’s blood, even when he knew he shouldn’t, even when the incubus had clearly been suffering from the loss. Telling himself that just a little more wouldn’t hurt, once more wouldn’t be noticed... And then his father had returned a day early.
Stephen had only fed once from Ezra’s neck, and he probably wouldn’t have done it if Silas had kept his fangs to himself. He couldn’t blame the other vampire for doing what he did, but he hadn’t defended Stephen either. In fact, he’d lied about how many times he’d fed.
Regret was a powerful emotion, one his brethren didn’t appear to experience. Sitting on his own in a hotel over the last two weeks, imagining Ezra suffering and confused, had been pure torture. That he wanted the letter burned into Ezra’s flesh to be an S rather than an F only added to his oppressive burden of guilt.
Silas put so much into the compulsion to spare Ezra further pain that he had to grit his teeth against dizziness to complete th
e third brand on the back of the incubus’s left shoulder.
Now, everyone who fucked him would see one of the brands. Silas decided thinking about his father at such a crucial moment could make completing the act impossible. He raised his gaze to the hanging body which was slimmer than the last time he’d seen it. Lust surged. Perhaps not.
Ezra would need a great deal of care, and gentle feeding while the brands healed. He’d require reassurance and sympathy to overcome the mental trauma. Without thought, he reached for Ezra’s wrists, already planning how to position the incubus on the bed so that none of the brands contacted the sheets. One thing was certain, he’d need more heating down here as the wounds would need to be uncovered while they healed.
“No, Silas. Don’t touch him,” his father’s voice was clear. “If you want to feed or fuck, use one of his humans. You’ve done well resisting the addiction today, and it was important for him to see you do this, but we don’t want to go back to square one, do we?”
“It’s fine; I’m not feeling anything.”
Fabian’s brows drew together, before he growled, ‘dismissed’ at the rest of the congregation.
When they were alone apart from the humans and the unconscious incubus, Fabian added, “Don’t lie to me, son. I saw what you did. He’s still dangerous to you.”
Fabian’s arm slid across his shoulders and he guided his son toward the stairs. The urge to push his father’s arm away, to rush back to Ezra, to cradle his limp body, to comfort him when he awoke, made his belly clench.
“Perhaps you’re right,” Silas murmured.
“I know I am, son. Give it five years and see how it goes. Council business is becoming more intense, and I could do with some eyes and ears out in the world. My boy, you’ve reached your first century, and it’s time to start working outside your clan.”
Who would care for Ezra now? Silas wanted to find them, give them instructions about Ezra’s quirks, his routine. Instead, because his father was watching, Silas walked up the stairs without a backward glance.