by Emma Jaye
EZRA WOKE TO THE FEEL of someone coming in his ass as he lay on his front. He tried to move but both arms remained below him and his legs stayed wide apart. The bench; I’m on the bench. Whoever had just fed him pulled out, and Ezra tried to open his eyes.
“At last. I thought you’d sleep forever,” Bones said. “I’m your keeper today. We’re rotating, so you don’t addict anyone else. I’ll unlock you. You’re nearly healed but you might want to avoid sleeping on your back for a while. We had you hanging for the first day and you’ve been here on the bench for the last two.
“Morvan made the cut out so the chest brand doesn’t smudge.” The vampire slapped his backside. “Come on, up you get; your humans have been missing you.”
Ezra closed his eyes again. He had nothing to say. Not to Bones, not to the humans he’d doomed. He’d made the stupid mistake of becoming complacent, even liking some of them, even– he pushed the image of Silas’s smirking face and his soft lies away. But they hadn’t changed, he had.
They’d worn him down, kept him isolated till he accepted his abusers, his captors, as friends because they were all he had. And he’d done exactly the same thing to the humans. He was no better than the vampires. Demons are demons. It’s what they’ve been telling me since I got here. Maybe I should listen.
Clothes rustled. Ezra breathed a sigh of relief as Bones walked away.
“No, no please don’t, you did him last time. He can’t–” Matilda pleaded before a male voice shrieked in pain.
Without looking at the cages, Ezra made his way over to the bed and gingerly lay down on his side, his back to the room.
“EZRA, ARE YOU ALRIGHT? Please, talk to us. We came back for you; we need you.”
This time the query came from Matilda, but it was so similar to those of the others, it didn’t make a difference. He didn’t need the reminder of what he’d done to them.
He lay on his right side, shivering. The brands on his front and the top of his buttock were on his left side. The blanket covered his legs and most of the front of his body, but he couldn’t contemplate it touching any of the brands. The thought of ripping off a scab if one formed onto the cloth as he slept made freezing a better option.
“Mr Erotes, I know you’ve been through a lot, but they said if you don’t,” Dawit swallowed, “want us any more, they’ll swap us for ones you do. We came back for you, please, we don’t want to die.”
With a wince as his wounds pulled, Ezra rolled to a sitting position. At least they hadn’t branded the back of his thighs or the underside of his butt so he could still sit if he didn’t lean back.
The humans looked as bad as he felt. All four had roughly torn cloth wrapped around at least one pair of fingers. Rodney had bandages on both hands. Both Hubert and Dawit only put one foot to the floor as they stood at the bars of their cages.
They didn’t want to die, but they’d die soon anyway. And they were suffering.
“Are, are you hungry?” Dawit said. Hope radiated in his voice although he lacked any tell-tale glow of lust. It didn’t help that Ezra knew he could turn the man on, could use him, if he chose.
“They left the key for you,” Matilda pointed to a new hook on the wall behind Ezra. “We won’t try to run this time. We want, we need, to be with you.” Her desperate words cut him to the quick. If he hadn’t given in to his base instincts, she could be free as a bird right now.
“You do know they’ll kill you sooner or later, either to hurt me or because one of them gets hungry?”
“It’s better than the alternative,” the old man said. The incubus didn’t agree, but frightening them wouldn’t help.
Ezra cocked his head. “What did it feel like, when you were trying to leave?”
As if they had choreographed the move, Matilda, Hubert and Dawit rubbed at the centre of their chests and frowned.
“It was... uncomfortable,” Dawit said.
Matilda added, “All I knew was that I couldn’t leave, knowing you were stuck in here.”
“And you?” Ezra asked Rodney.
“She stopped running. I was trying to stop her coming back when they caught us.”
Due to his age, his resemblance to one of his mother’s feeders, and his obvious reluctance, Ezra hadn’t spent as long with Rodney. He’d only fed from him two or three times when he’d exhausted the others. The effort the seduction had taken almost negated the benefit of the energy he’d received. Ezra wondered what the ‘magic’ number was to form an addiction and if the time frame mattered. Whatever the case, Ezra vowed that he’d never take a human more than four times again. They needed the ability to run if it presented itself.
His back pulled, making him wince, as he stood up. After picking up the key, he walked over to Matilda’s cell, a smile he didn’t feel on his lips.
He unlocked her cage and she stepped into his arms as if her life depended on it. Sliding his hand under her torn chemise, he maximised skin to skin contact.
“Look at me.”
Her face tilted up, brown eyes full of trust and concern. “I don’t... don’t know where to touch you. I don’t want to hurt you.”
“You can’t, sweet Matilda. But I think we’ll be more comfortable on the bed.” He led her over and she sat on the edge.
The strangled sob of her father behind him strengthened his resolve. Cupping her cheek with his hand, he said, “You must be tired; that pallet can’t be comfortable. Have a nap in my warm, comfortable bed.”
Vampires battered their prey with compulsion; his kind persuaded. For a moment he thought he wasn’t strong enough, wasn’t experienced enough to do this.
She blinked swaying for a moment. “But I thought–”
He held both sides of her face, concentrated on her obeying him, and said, “Sleep first.” This time her eyelids fluttered closed and he eased her down on the bed. He didn’t know whether to be pleased he’d succeeded or not.
“What did you do to her?” Rodney asked. He turned back to the waiting men.
“She’s sleeping. But you do know what the vampires will do to her, to all of you?”
The older man dropped his eyes to the floor.
“I want to live,” Dawit stated.
Hubert lay on his pallet, putting his back to them.
Ezra waved his hand at the cellar. “In here? Having your bones snapped, your blood and ass taken by demons who enjoy your pain? Watching others suffer? That’s what you have to look forward to.”
The dark eyes focused on him. “I killed a man. When I die, I’ll go to Hell.”
Ezra waved his hand at the room, at the torture devices on the wall. “And this isn’t Hell? How long do you think it’ll be before they brand you, or see how many broken bones it takes for you to die? Maybe there is something worse, but I’m a demon and I’ve never met anyone who’s been to the fiery pit Christians talk about.”
“What are you proposing?” the older man interrupted.
Ezra looked him in the eye. “That she doesn’t wake up, that she isn’t raped, mutilated and forced to bear multiple children for them; isn’t forced to watch those children abused and killed. She can never leave me while she lives; nor can Hubert and Dawit.” Ezra clinked his chain. “And I’m not going anywhere.”
“Will it hurt her?”
Ezra looked the concerned father in the eye. “I’ve never killed anyone. But I’ll make it as easy as I can. I might be a demon, but I’m not like them. Fear is as painful for me to witness as it is for you.” A wry smile quirked his lips. “They are predators; I’m merely a parasite.”
“I got her into this; the blame is mine. She shouldn’t suffer for it. I don’t want either one of us to provide any more pleasure to those devil’s spawn.”
Before he had a chance to think about it, Ezra walked back to the bed, and placed his hand over her mouth and pinched her nose.
To his horror, her eyes flew open. He put every ounce of strength into the compulsion. “This’ll make it better; I promise I’ll let you
go as soon as you relax.”
The trust in her eyes as she closed them tore his heart out but he didn’t let go. He held on for a count of thirty after she went still, then turned to the other humans he’d unwittingly addicted.
CHAPTER 24
Ezra sat on the bed, staring at the flagstone in front of him, thinking of nothing. He hadn’t asked for his books back, hadn’t asked for anything. Requests would be used against him, whether the vampires granted them on not.
His ambitions consisted of feeding to exist until his circumstances changed. That could be in a year’s time, in a decade, or a century. Time was relative; it didn’t really matter.
The cages against the wall were still there. Occasionally they put humans in, or took them out. He’d learned from his first experience. Now, he didn’t converse with them, didn’t listen to their stories, their pleas, because they would be dead soon and he didn’t want to feel remorse. It wasn’t his fault they were here. It wasn’t his fault they would die. The only thing he could do was prevent them from becoming addicted to him so if a chance of escape presented itself, they could run.
If the vampires left him hungry long enough, he fed from them, but never more than four times from each one. They’d tried to starve him into addicting a pretty young blond man. Ezra saved him from a horrible future after fucking him for the fifth time.
He didn’t talk to the vampires either, having a relationship with any of them led to emotional pain along with the physical. The vampires used the humans, they used him. Ezra used all of them.
It’d gotten easier over time. At first, not engaging with people verbally had taken tremendous effort. When he didn’t have a choice, all he did to entice the humans was to touch, to silently show interest. Some of the humans thought he couldn’t speak, that he was an imbecile incapable of understanding them. Even when the vampires gave him new books, he didn’t read them. They would just use his interest to manipulate him.
The brands had been reapplied twice. It had always been cold in the cellar when it happened, so he guessed it took about a year for his body to heal. The last time, he’d stared Bones in the eyes as the boyish vampire applied the chest brand. It didn’t hurt any less, but he knew what to expect, knew how long it would hurt.
The vampires acted as if he’d worked at withholding his reactions to upset them, the truth was, pain didn’t matter, not in here. It came, it went, it came again. That was all. Nothing he did changed that fact.
The door at the top of the stairs opened. As he felt a little hungry, he lay back on the bed, displaying himself to entice a meal. His belly clenched as he recognised the sharp features of the vampire entering his currently human-free world. Ezra rolled up into a sitting position. He didn’t want to talk to him, didn’t want the inevitable pain he’d feel when he left.
Silas sat beside him. Ezra managed not to flinch as the vampire rubbed a hand across his shoulder. He wanted to lean into him, to accept his comfort, his soft whispered lies. He didn’t.
Ezra had given him everything; had lied to protect him. In return, the demon had abused and then abandoned him. Trusting Silas had been so damn stupid, and idiot that he was, he was glad to see him.
Keeping his voice as hard as his heart should be, Ezra said, “What do you want?”
“To see you, my dear, what else?”
A chip in Ezra’s armour fell at the lie. It has to be a lie, doesn’t it?
“Does he know your here?”
“He sent for me.”
Silas’s quiet words were a sucker punch to Ezra’s gut. Just for a moment, he’d hoped Silas was here because he wanted to be. Hoped that a pathetic toy chained in a cellar meant something to the softly spoken vampire as Fabian had claimed.
The bastards are doing it to me again. What do they want, for me to scream and cry again? They won’t get it.
“He said you’ve changed, that you’re harder now.”
Ezra couldn’t help letting out a snort of derision. “I thought that’s kinda the point, having a hard incubus? Are you going to feed me before you go back to your all-important life, or not?”
This was more than he’d said to anyone in... Ezra didn’t know how long. As Silas’ sandalwood scent washed over him, Ezra gritted his teeth at how easily this bastard manipulated him. I’m a demon, just like him.
“Do you want me to, my dear?”
The final ‘my dear’ was the straw that broke the dam on his anger. If Silas thought he was going to beg for it as he had before, the vampire had a surprise coming.
“What I want is to never have met you, to never have been born, if you really want to know. I hate you, your father, my mother, and most of all I hate myself for being too much of a fucking coward to end this. As always it’s your choice; fuck me, or fuck off, but don’t pretend you care because I don’t, not any more.”
Ezra turned to facing the wall, pulling his knees up. Letting the smooth bastard tear unwanted emotions from him within minutes was yet another failure to add to his ever-growing list.
A hand reached out and tugged the blanket over him. “Silly thing, you’re cold; you should have pulled the blankets up. And you still can’t lie.”
The simple, carrying gesture after his vitriolic response floored Ezra. It was the cruellest, sweetest thing he could remember anyone doing for him in he didn’t know how long. And that was so fucking depressing. Making Silas understand seemed important; he didn’t know why.
“I can’t, I can’t do this with you again. I thought I could be like you, that I could feed and not feel, not care. I even killed to prove it to them, to myself, but I’m not, I can’t–” he trailed off, wishing he could join the humans he’d killed.
Shut up. Just shut up. I can’t let him in, can’t react because if I do, I’ll fall for it all over again. And it’ll hurt so fucking much when he leaves. Getting branded again would be easier.
The thought of this same chain of events repeating year after year, century after century was untenable. The physical pain he could cope with, but this? This he couldn’t. There was only one way out of this hell, the one he’d granted those humans.
“My dear, who ever said I didn’t care? And you didn’t kill them, it’s not in you. My father wouldn’t waste food like that. He stopped you before they died and made you think you carried on.”
Ezra lay still, feeling sadness rather than the relief Silas probably intended. The vampire hadn’t said they lived. Those poor bastards had still died, probably in great fear and pain. It would have been better if he had killed them; better if he’d died with them.
CHAPTER 25
When he arrived at the clan holding for the first time in three years, Silas headed straight up to his father’s office.
He had refrained from asking about Ezra whenever he’d met a member of his clan. Any hint of concern would increase the validity of the ‘addiction’ claim. Nevertheless, his thoughts were seldom far from the curly-haired incubus with the dark flashing eyes. In his dreams, Silas still spent every night wrapped in Ezra’s warm embrace.
Officially, Silas had been promoting his father’s bid for re-elected as Leader of the Supernatural Council with other high-ranking supernaturals. Unofficially, it kept him out of the way. Now his father wanted him home. Ten minutes after he’d opened the letter, he’d been out of the hotel where he’d been staying.
Fabian rose, shook Silas’s hand and indicated he should sit down.
“Good to see you, you’re looking well.”
Silas smiled, wondering what his manipulative parent was up to. “Thank you, father, you too.”
“Down to business then.” With a sour expression, Fabian announced that Ezra had been ‘less than satisfactory’ since Silas had left.
At first, the news gave him a selfish shot of pride and joy. Without him, Ezra hadn’t been happy. As his father continued to document his attempts to control and influence the clan asset, Silas’s misgiving grew.
“He kills them?”
“H
e thinks he does, quite efficiently too. He compels them to sleep, then suffocates them. Whoever is on duty steps in before he finishes. If they’re strong enough, they compel him to think he completed the act. Only Morvan, Robert and I are strong enough to produce a lasting compulsion. He cried for days after the first ones, but he’s gotten used to it. Doesn’t talk to anyone now though.
“Having to keep a constant watch on him when he’s got humans in there is a drain on our resources. He’s made it easy for us though, he moves them around according to how many times he’s fed. The nearer the stairs they are, the more times he’s fed and the more likely he is to try to kill them. Four times is his safety limit.”
Fabian chuckled. “Robert moved them around when he was asleep the other week. It took him several hours to work it out and then he got the order a touch wrong when he shuffled them around again. He’s finally thinking of humans as the food they are, rather than as individuals who matter.”
Still trying to come to terms with the Ezra he’d known being a cold, calculated killer, Silas asked, “If he’s killing them, or thinks he is, why do you keep putting more humans in with him?”
“We want him to think of everyone that goes in there, apart from you and I, as nothing else but a meal. And yes, I want you to be his keeper again, albeit with a few more rules.” Fabian held a finger to prevent Silas’s ‘why’ question.
“Clarissa sent a letter. Didn’t ask about him directly though. She’s given me the names of four succubi who want to know if Ezra is real and how she conceived him. None are close relatives to her, or his father. We have a real chance to produce multiple trained sex demons under the noses of those liberal do-gooders on the council.
“Of course, we could tie him down like we did his father, but it would be far easier if he’s a willing stud. Some of these succubi might not be as understanding, or a closed-mouthed, as Clarissa. The last thing we need is them blabbing that he’s being held against his will.