by Unknown
The two demons glanced at each other and Sakurai could smell their fear like the pungent rot of the corpses they must devour for sustenance. Remnants of their last meal lingered in their swollen stomachs. They lunged at him.
Sakurai snatched the first one by its throat, piercing the flesh and crushing bone in his powerful wolf’s jaws. The other creature tried to slash at his belly, but Sakurai pinned it to the carpet underneath a heavy paw then flung the dead one to the side with a quirk jerk of his head.
The remaining one he killed slowly, sinking his fangs into the demon’s shoulders and tearing off its multiple arms one by one. Black blood ran from the wounds, the fluid’s odor as revolting as the rest of the creature itself. But the stench reminded Sakurai of another demon that had fucked with him only too recently, wounding him more deeply than he cared to admit.
Sakurai severed the demon’s head with another bite and backed away, shifting back into his normal body. Too disgusted with the taste to swallow, he spat up the devil’s blood and wiped away any traces from around his mouth.
“Little shits,” Sakurai hissed. He stood up and pushed the hair back from his eyes as he retrieved his clothes from the bar. Now, instead of lounging away the rest of the afternoon waiting for his new toy to return to the apartment below, he’d have to go find out who would be stupid enough to send assassins like these after him.
* * * * *
Sakurai’s first stop was to the noisy little market at the end of Mott Street which was the front for the mob elders who’d summoned him to New York.
“Take me to Jung Kai,” Sakurai ordered the first mortal enforcer to catch his eye.
“We’re closing early, get the fuck out,” another said, coming up behind Sakurai and prodding his back with the barrel of a handgun.
Legitimate customers scurried away, leaving their hand baskets of potential purchases behind in their rush to leave. Sakurai clucked his tongue. “Really now, and how does Master Liu expect to pay for my services if you scare away all his customers.”
The gunman prodded Sakurai again and the vampire spun, seizing his would-be assailant buy the throat and lifting him a good four feet off the floor.
“Enough of your foolish games, boy. Take me to Jung or die.” Sakurai dropped him and waited.
Much bowing and scraping ensued as he was led to a concealed door and shown down a dimly lit corridor to a suite of rooms beneath street level. Garish in the extreme, they reminded Sakurai of a cross between a Hong Kong brothel and a cinematic Sultan’s palace, complete with a scantily clad harem full of both male and female concubines.
Sakurai smiled to himself as he remembered his new pet, Daisuke. Yes, he had to revisit that interesting young man very soon.
Scurrying out of whichever hole he’d been hiding in, Jung Kai prostrated himself before Sakurai. “Master Sakurai, I apologize for the disrespect you have been shown here today.”
Sakurai used the toe of one booted foot to tilt Jung Kai’s head up. “Is that all you have to apologize for? Isn’t there another little matter you want to admit to? Such as a pathetic assassination attempt at that apartment you so graciously gave me to use during my stay here?”
“No, no, no.” Jung Kai shook his head and settled back on his knees. “I would never attempt such a thing. I know your abilities are boundless. Why would I be so stupid?”
“Why indeed?”
Jung Kai leaned forward again, reverently caressing Sakurai’s boot. He looked up once more. “It must have been the interlopers, the ones we begged you to dispose of.”
“Indeed.” Sakurai stared at the younger vampire leader, conscious of the precarious position Jung Kai was placing himself in by showing such submissive deference. He brushed his hair back from his face with a flick of his hand then motioned for Jung Kai to rise.
“It is most fortunate for you that I have found something mildly amusing in this city to keep me here for the moment. These squabbles of yours do not concern me, though I admit I don’t approve of these ‘interlopers’ sharing of thechaing shih’s gifts in any fashion.” Sakurai slipped his hands into the pockets of his leather jacket. “Do these mysterious ones have names or have you been too afraid to ascertain that as well?”
“We know them only asShan Ching.”
Sakurai smirked. “Hill spectres? How quaint.”
“They are seen only by a select few but rumor has it they travel to certain business enterprises to choose mortals to feed from. It is said that theShan Ching feasts upon the pain and suffering like a connoisseur feasts on the finest of gourmet meals.”
Sakurai’s smirk broadened into a cruel smile. “Interesting. It would seem that the Shan Ching are creatures after my own heart. Perhaps I won’t eliminate them at all.”
A collective gasp broke the room’s strained silence and Jung Kai prostrated himself once more, this time planting a kiss on the toes of Sakurai’s boots. “Please have mercy upon us, Master Sakurai. We will be your humblest of servants.”
Sakurai scowled at the subservience then kicked Jung Kai over. Let this weak waste of immortality lose face amongst his followers. “The apartment. I want it spotless by the time I return.”
Dark Whispers Sheridan and Cain 2009
Chapter Four
Dai stormed out of One Police Plaza, shoving past anyone who got in his way. When he slid inside the parked GTO, he slammed his fists against the steering wheel.
“Fuck!” he yelled at the top his voice inside the closed car. “Mother fuckers!”
Resting his forehead on his hands, Dai clutched at the leather wheel and panted. Wei Wei, that fucking idiot, was in over his head this time. If the mob didn’t kill him, the pencil necks here were going to make sure his ass sat in a pen until some inmate killed him or worse. So, what--to save his brother, Dai had to backstab him first?
And if Dai refused to play the game their way . . . .
“Like fucking hell that’s the only copy,” Dai muttered through his clenched teeth. But those fucks weren’t going to get another chance to tape anything else.
Dai’s cock jerked against his restraints as he thought about what was on that disc —the mysterious, unknown man who’d entered his room . . . who’dfucked him . . . . Dai’s heart thudded wildly. He shifted in his seat, noticing now how the rubber plug nestled in his ass didn’t come close to filling him.
Dai turned the key in the ignition and pulled away from the curb with a loud screech. Before he could take care of this business with Wei, he had to find the camera those shits from Bureau planted in his apartment. And he needed to know who that man on disc was, to see if it was even true.
God, he wanted it to be. Wanted it bad, right, Daisuke?
“Shit,” he growled before stepping on the gas to beat the stop light.
* * * * *
Dai barreled into his building like a man possessed, ignoring the pain jolting through him from the harness binding his cock and the plug buried in his ass.
The recording had showed a three-quarter angle shot of the bed, so he had a pretty good idea where to start his search. He found the camera in the fucking smoke detector, the fiber-optic lens tucked away where the damn batteries should be, the rest of the compact device tucked in a hole cut into the ceiling.
“Fucks.” Dai ripped the wire out and crushed the head under his boot. He took the plastic-bodied camera and smashed it against the window ledge until it splintered, cutting his palm.
“Fuck!” he shouted, shaking his hand and causing some of the blood to hit the outer ledge and the fire escape. He pulled his handkerchief out of his back pocket and wrapped his palm then ran his hands through his hair. A part of him had clung to the hope that there wouldn’t be any cameras, that what he’d seen on the disc was a lie.
He doubted they’d stop at one camera. In the fixtures over the bathroom sink, he found another. And another one in the living room, the lens poking out between a couple books on a wall shelf. One thing was for sure—they went through a hell of lot o
f trouble just to be able to blackmail him. The fucks.
Dai tore off his suit jacket and tossed it on the sofa, and the DVD fell out of his pocket. His balls tightened as his cock swelled, shoving the plug deeper inside. The sensation was torment and pleasure all at once. And the image of that man, that stranger, kissing him . . . fucking him . . . sprang in to his mind so vividly he couldn’t force it to go away.
Dai turned on his TV then popped the disc into his DVD player, his finger hovering over the play button. He had to see the recording again, to understand . . . what?
“Why it felt so good,” he whispered and pushed the button.
As the disc whirred to life, Dai unbuttoned his shirt and slipped out of his pants. He’d meant to remove the harness and free his aching cock, but as Dai saw himself on the 36” screen start to press the dildo into his opening, his hand dropped to his side.
The muscles in his ass clenched and gripped the silicone plug, his cock swelled and strained against the harness. He knelt on the floor, rocking back and forth, rubbing his aching balls. Oh God, there the guy was. Fuck! His face wasn’t visible even on the bigger screen. All Dai could make out was a glimpse of high cheekbones, a straight nose, and that long, black hair that shimmered in the moonlight and moved like countless threads of the finest silk against the man’s leather jacket then against his shirt.
Dai was barely aware of the low moan that escaped his lips when the guy began to fuck him—no, when the guy positioned himself and Dai rammed himself back onto the stranger’s cock. Sweating, Dai began jerking himself in time to the rhythm of the two figures on the television screen. He came hard and fast then rubbed the sticky ejaculate over stomach as he watched himself on TV blow his load and the guy . . . what? Bit him, licked him? With one shaking, sticky hand, Dai jabbed at the volume button to hear his moans, to hear the other man’s deeply accented whisper as he slipped his cock free and kissed Dai’s mouth.
Sleep well my pet. We’ll play another night.
Another night. Another session that intense. Oh fuck yes!
Dai’s ass clenched and his eyes grew wide as he realized something. This morning in the bathroom when he fucked himself with the dildo he thought it was lube making him still slick inside but . . . oh fuck. It was the guy’s cum.
“Oh Fuck!”
Dai scrambled away from the TV until he backed into the couch. Fuck fuck fuck! He tugged at the straps on the harness, tearing the leather cords away and yanking out the plug so quickly his passage spasmed at the sudden emptiness.
Panting and trembling all over, Dai pressed into the sofa, his fingers digging into the carpet. Flashes from his dream raced through his mind, only now he saw that it wasn’t an imagined Watts but rather a faceless stranger caressing his body, pushing into him. God—he could almost feel the hot spurt erupting inside of him.
The phone rang and jerked Dai from his erotic visions. Taking two steadying breaths, he reached for the cordless phone on the coffee table.
“Yeah,” Dai muttered.
“Hey, ge-ge.” It was Wei. He sounded happy, like he’d gotten hold of something that was the shit. Dai almost hung up on him. Just like last night, he was feeling that mixture of arousal and sickness. That man’s semen had coated the inside of him. The intimacy of it and all its implications scared Dai, while at the same time his cock remained firmly erect and throbbing for a firm touch . . . not from his own hand, but from his faceless lover.
The man had fucked him while he slept, and Dai was thinking of him as his lover. Dai bit down on his lower lip to hold back a lustful, aching moan.
“You there, Dai? Don’t cut out on me, I told you it’s good.”
“Wh-what?” Dai croaked, barely recognizing his own voice.
Wei laughed on the other end of the line. “Don’t tell me you’re into some recreational drug shit now, Daisuke, Mr. Cop and Hard Ass of the Year.”
“I’m not in the mood, Wei.”
“Okay, okay,” Wei sounded a little surprised. “You alright?”
“What the hell do you want?” Dai shouted into the phone.
“Be a prick then.” Wei sighed. “But come check out theResurrection on 6th and West 20th. I’m telling you, its good—there’s things happening here you wouldn’t believe. And I think I can get you in, if you’re not too afraid, big brother.”
The line went dead and Dai let the receiver in his hand slip and fall to the floor. Oh he was afraid all right, but not for any reason Wei could imagine.
Oh shit, what was he going to do?
Think, Dai, Think. You get tested. First thing in the morning, you head over to Jersey and you get an anonymous HIV test. You can find a clinic online, no problem. It’ll be all right. It will. The guy could have had a rubber. He could have, and you just couldn’t see and it was the lube this morning making your ass so slick, it was!
Dai scrambled to his feet, lurched into the bedroom then threw the harness into the trunk and rooted through his clothes for a clean shirt and pants. He took a long, hot shower, scrubbing until his skin was raw.
Within the hour Dai wound up at a club, located inside an old church on 6th Avenue.
Men and women formed a line that wrapped around the block, from the building’s entrance to the alley on its side.
Every one of them was dressed in leather. Some had chains wrapped around their throats, or dangling from wide, studded belts. The women had on corset tops and short skirts, high platform boots and as much makeup as folks wore on Halloween. Many of the guys looked like rejects from some old biker flick, with their motorcycle jackets and heavy engineer boots.
Though not wearing anything more conspicuous than a black T-shirt and a worn wool blazer over his jeans, Dai realized he was going to stand out like hell in this crowd.
“There’s my man!”
Dai glanced behind him as Wei came up and grabbed his shoulder. “I’ve been waiting out here for you for an hour.”
“I had shit to take care of.”
Wei Wei punched him lightly in the arm. “You can forget about all that now,” he said with a wicked smile. “I’ll make sure you get treated real good here tonight.”
Wei tugged Dai’s sleeve and led him to a small iron gate around the side of the church. The sunglass-wearing bouncer nodded and let them inside, much to the dismay of those in line. The walkway was paved with thick glass block tiles that were lit from within, giving the passageway an eerie, reddish glow.
The fine hairs on Dai’s neck prickled and he instinctively scratched at his lower back to check on the position of his off-duty weapon. It was Watts’s old service weapon, a Glock 26 that he’d had specially rebuilt using a chunk of the money Ray had left him.
* * * * *
Sakurai’s mouth twisted into a smirk as he peered down from the roof of the former Gothic-styled church from between the glowering faces of two stone gargoyles. Well, well, wasn’t this a most interesting little circumstance? His pet from last evening, here at the club rumored to be even more decadent than the ones he’d had back in the old days in Hong Kong and Tokyo.
The vampire leapt silently and effortlessly to the ground, landing in the narrow passageway and shielding his presence from the mortals. But oh, ho, what was this? Was that Daisuke lingering a moment as the club’s door closed behind him?
Sakurai’s smirk broadened. Yes, they did have that exchange of fluids, did they not? There could very well be a bit of a connection between them. And that was all the better to play the game. Sakurai licked his lips, remembering very well the intoxicating passion in the mortal’s blood. Yes they would have to play again very, very soon.
But first things first. He needed to see these all-powerful Shan ching in person. Sakurai ran his fingers along the bricks as he followed the side of the building past the club’s side entrance and into the filthy, dimly lit alleyway. Toward the back of the club, a metal staircase led down to another entrance below street-level. A flickering sodium bulb at the bottom of the steps made the shadows dance
along the graffitied walls and the rust-covered handrails on the staircase.
Beneath the scent of the paint and oxidizing metal, he could smell the dried blood of dozens, maybe hundreds, of victims. Their bodies had been dragged up the staircase and disposed of, but no amount of cleaning or even the passage of time ever completely erased the tangy odor enough that a vampire’s senses couldn’t pick it up. Smirking, Sakurai trotted down the staircase.
The area would’ve seemed strangely unguarded compared to the front of the club where the heavy-set bouncers carefully watched the public entrances. But Sakurai sensed watching eyes in the darkness, heard the murmurs of the vampires inside who knew he was there but didn’t have the balls to show themselves.
“This part of the club is for VIPs only, asshole,” someone with a distinctly human edge to his voice called out from the other side of the metal door. “Go wait in line like everyone else.”
Sakurai’s grin widened. The vampires inside had sent one of their human pets to try and send him away? First the assassination attempt, now this. Sakurai laughed.
I hope he wasn’t one of your favorite toys. He sent the message out with his mind before smashing his open palm against the door. The metal gave way with a loud wrenching sound. The boy on the other side tried to get out of the way, but Sakurai slammed the door against the inside wall, pinning the mortal between metal and brick.
The boy was still alive, but his ribs were crushed and blood flowed out of his mouth with each ragged breath. Sakurai decided against drinking from the little shit, who was dressed much in the same way the other club-goers above were. Let his life be a complete waste to the ones who’d sent him as their messenger.
Sakurai moved his hand away from the door and the boy slumped to the floor to finish dying. Sakurai slipped into the dark hallway leading deeper into theShan ching lair, and called out softly, teasingly. “That’s the second welcome you’ve given me in this city that hasn’t impressed me.”