by Mandy Rosko
Despite this setback, for the moment, their guest, Seth, was content to wait in his new situation until such a time when he was strong enough to be released.
His sun sprite was a smooth talker indeed to pull that sort of response from a man who had no idea who cared for him.
“I am looking forward to the moment when that vampire is out of our home,” Silus said. Sampson was not giving away any more details of the nature to his escape, and the longer he was under Silus’s roof, the more unease seeped into his skin.
Cedric seemed in good enough spirits, and he insisted on putting Silus in that same happy place.
“I’m looking forward to something else,” he said as he pulled Silus inside their room, closing the door, and backing Silus against it as he pressed his lips to the sensitive skin of his neck.
Silus released a soft moan. Cedric’s hands came to rest on his hips, keeping them still as he surged them forward, searching for friction. Silus hissed pleasurably when his lover scraped along the sensitive flesh with his teeth. He’d become quite skilled at teasing Silus like this.
Silus’s hand found its way into Cedric’s sun-gold hair. The sprite had allowed it to grow longer recently, giving Silus much to grip onto, and his worry over the vampire downstairs discovering his identity faded farther into the back of his mind as he was kissed and caressed, but it was still there.
“It’s okay, don’t think about it,” Cedric said, his fingers working the buttons of Silus’s black silk shirt, slipping beneath the soft fabric, playing along the hard lines of Silus’s chest. He pinched Silus’s nipples, even though the nerves there weren’t as strong as on any other male. Sun sprite or human. No, his neck was the most sensitive between the two places, but Cedric never ceased his biting kisses. It seemed his sun sprite was doing his absolute best to ensure that Silus did not rethink his decision to allow Sampson to continue his stay.
Skin glowing faintly with pleasure, Cedric pressed downward kisses along Silus’s chest and stomach.
Who would Sampson wish revenge on the most? Himself? For transforming him and leaving him, damn near unconscious, fending for himself in such a weakened state?
Or would it be Cedric? Just the thought made Silus shudder.
Cedric seemed to take that as a pleasing sign and continued his way slowly downward, a kiss for every inch he came closer to his intended goal. Cool air met his legs as his belt and fly were opened, trousers and trunks pulled down.
A sharp pinch jolted him from his inner thigh. Silus jumped and looked down, for a moment thinking Cedric had bitten him.
Of course he had not. Cedric glared up at him from his place on his knees, his happy glow entirely gone. “Snap out of it. You’re supposed to be here with me.”
“A new war between the clans could break out if he reveals our secret.”
Cedric ran his hands up and down the firm muscles of Silus’s legs in a soothing motion. “I know. But I owe him. He’s a fugitive, and so are we. It’s not going to be as bad as you think.”
Silus somewhat doubted that, but those doubts vanished as his cock was engulfed in the most welcoming heat he’d experienced in a near fortnight. His head fell back, banging roughly against the door.
He hardly noticed the jolt of pain as Cedric licked his tongue along the tip of his organ. “Yeeesss,” he hissed.
His cock pulsed quickly, balls tightening so soon, nearly ready for orgasm after only a few up and down bobs of Cedric’s head and the squeezing of his mouth. ’Twas to be expected after living so chastely this last week.
Sex was hardly a commodity that could be enjoyed to the fullest when a vampire may very well be dying in one’s basement. The thought did tend to make for odd coupling.
But, Cedric did make a surprising nurse. Silus would wait until his lover finished his ministrations before he made a jest over such a thing, however. Until then, he allowed his eyes to fall shut and his soft moaning to become stronger as the pleasure washed through him, erasing everything else.
Chapter Six
Seth was pacing the area of his cell, basement, room, whatever, when the lock finally scraped open and the door opened, revealing, not the blond man who had apparently been seeing to his needs, medically, whilst he’d been barely more than a vegetable, but the darker, serious-looking guard.
He wore tight-fitting, black clothing, similar from yesterday, and it hugged the guy’s six pack beautifully. Seth had no time to appreciate the view. “It’s about fucking time. I need to piss.”
He’d been pounding on the door, calling out, for damn near an hour before Tall and Dark had decided to grace him with an answer.
He stormed toward the door. Whether it was the shock of his sudden movements or his reason for needing to go upstairs that prevented his guard from outright stopping him, Seth didn’t know.
Nor did he give a rat’s ass so long as he didn’t embarrass the hell out of himself by letting everything inside him go. Bad enough when that blond guy had explained how his bodily functions had been cared for when Seth was out of his proper frame of mind.
It really was his own fault for asking such a question, and he was most glad that Tall and Dark hadn’t been the one to take care of that duty for him.
Seth jogged up the stairs, two at a time, sort of. His one knee was still stiff as hell, and though he could put his weight on it with no problem, he found himself favoring his other leg on the stairs and using the handrails to pull himself up them faster.
He had to ignore the pulsing such quick and reckless movements put in his knee as the throb in his bladder got worse and worse. He still kept a firm grip on the rail. It had only been one night since he woke up from whatever little coma he’d been in, but his body continued to heal nicely after receiving more fresh blood.
He was only sorry it hadn’t been from his guard, who was hot on his heels, following him up the stairs and out the much thinner, weaker door. Despite the daytime sun, the heat from which he could feel even through the air-conditioning, the kitchen the stairs led to was dark from the tinted windows, but furnished beautifully, with marble everything and sparkling this and that which Seth really needed to notice another time.
“Down that hall, first door. Don’t try to go anywhere else,” Tall and Dark warned.
Like he’d try it at this point.
He did as he was told, found the door he wanted, and sighed with relief when he made it on time. At least he was able to do this himself.
He washed his hands when he finished, taking his sweet time with that act, loving the feel of the water splashing over his skin, at exactly a temperature he was comfortable with, at exactly the pressure he was comfortable with.
He made sure to keep the water of the faucet running just a tad longer as he stared himself in the mirror, not wanting to be disturbed from his own fucked-up shock.
Holy God. That was him? There was hardly any color in his face, he was as pale as a corpse, and this was after being told his entire body had been deep-fried in sunlight. Nothing on him was pink and itching anymore at least.
But, wow, he looked good. Better than good. Seth looked like he just woke up from the best beauty sleep he’d ever had. It must’ve been a product of all the brand new skin and hair he was growing, coupled with the just-out-of-bed look in his new hair.
Maybe this explained the real reason for Tall and Dark’s hitch in heartbeat whenever Seth saw him. The guy seemed to think Seth didn’t know about that, but he did.
His proud glee vanished pretty fast as his previous thought came back to him. Was he a corpse? He was a vampire, an undead, technically, and in the year since he’d become so, he he’d never had the opportunity to let that part sink in. He’d been too busy being Wiktor’s whipping boy, no better than one of the werewolf servants.
Not the weres who were strong and fast enough to become guards, no, but the runts and omegas who waited the tables, cooked meals, and cleaned the bedrooms, among other things.
Seth had been made to participate
in those other things until Winchester came along. His hands shook from where they’d gripped the edges of the white ceramic sink. Just thinking about it made him sick, what little there was to think about. God only knew how he’d react to the shit he couldn’t remember. So often he’d been denied blood, or fed from to the point of delirious hunger, that there were things he wasn’t sure were real and were not.
A year had passed. He knew this from the info he was able to get out of Jackson, who would occasionally offer his own vein just to keep Seth’s heart ticking, but otherwise, Seth could hardly recall a third of the time he’d been in captivity.
After drinking Jackson’s blood, Seth immediately understood why vampires never fed from their wolf servants. Werewolf blood was dry on his tongue. To his constantly parched throat, it had been the equivalent of being offered a glass of ice water after tracking through a hot desert for several hours, but with enough sand stirred in it just to ruin what would have otherwise been a refreshing gift. It had always brought his strength up, not by much, but enough for him to function.
Sometimes the blood made his throat and tongue even dryer than before he’d drank it.
Of course, Seth always took what Jackson offered. Even had his blood tasted of heavy mud, he would have taken it, gladly, and with a thank-you for the trouble the alpha went through just for offering.
Seth suspected Wiktor knew of Jackson’s activities, and only allowed it because he viewed a vampire drinking werewolf blood as just one more punishment to be had.
Despite his many punishments, Seth was always made to suffer more. He could remember that much.
Wiktor hardly hosted any parties, not to the extent he did before his son had killed himself, the family wished to wait a year, deciding that would constitute a proper mourning period, but there were still the occasional business ventures that could not be overlooked.
Trafficking humans was a business that would wait for no one.
Seth had not been made to serve during those functions like the omega werewolves who acted as the Veturious butlers, no, he’d been kept behind closed doors, his blood sold to the highest bidder in Wiktor’s close-knit circle.
Apparently, for a recently transformed vampire, his blood had its own unique flavoring that some vampires found irresistible. The things one learned on the fly.
Seth could only make out bits and pieces of those encounters, strapped down, low on blood from being constantly fed from two, sometimes three times per night, but he did know that not every buyer took only his blood. Wiktor kept no rules, after all, apart from the obvious, do not suck him dry. Sometimes the buyers could barely be counted on to do that.
As the months passed and Seth’s blood became more and more vampiric and less human in nature, the buyers, mostly the females, and occasionally the males, continued to come for him. The worst was when he woke up in the middle of being fucked against his will, only to get dragged back to his room. It wasn’t until after his first escape attempt that they put him in a tiny little cage, barely larger than a dog’s kennel.
Then Winchester, a psychiatrist Wiktor favored, had come along and made a favorite out of him.
As he stared himself in the mirror, Seth’s eyes became bloodred.
He had enough blood in him now that his body was capable of producing that kind of enraged reaction, he supposed. As that happened, everything in the bathroom turned a dark red, too, from his mirrored reflection to the painted beige walls.
No matter how long it took him, he was going to hunt down each and every one of those vampire motherfuckers who’d fed from him and rip their heads from their shoulders. He was going to castrate the males who’d fucked him, and for the women who’d done the same, he was going to bury them alive after he branded his name on their lovely little faces.
He still hadn’t decided how he was going to get that part done.
Either by burning or cutting, or maybe tattooing, but they’d loved him so much, they could wear him on their cheeks for all of their immortal lives. Could a vampire die from asphyxiation?
Whatever. He’d work out the details of that one later. When he was done with all of them, he was going to do the exact same thing to Wiktor Veturious for ever thinking he could put Seth in a cage.
Before any of that could get done, he still had to get to Sammy. A year had gone by. His brother was first priority.
A loud knock at the door jerked him out of his vengeful thoughts.
He literally jumped as the sound invaded his quiet space, and all the red fled from his vision like rodents scurrying out of the light and back into the darkness. The running water no longer soothed him, and he turned off the taps.
“What?” he asked.
“Hurry up in there, thought you were dying or something.”
Or something. They were worried he was either trying to hurt himself or trying to escape.
Whatever. Seth dried his hands on a towel hanging over the toilet and let himself out.
The first reaction his body took was the shock that froze him then a mild panic as the three figures stood before him.
What. The. Hell? His mind raced to catch up with him. They had been waiting, as a unit right outside the bathroom door. Two of them he already knew. Tall and Dark was right there on the far right, pulse skipping as erratically as ever. The blond man who’d brought him the rabbit and spoken to him last night stood on the far left, back straight, face calm, and in the center of their group, the other man, the shortest of the three—barely—who wore a black suit and tie over a red silk shirt like he was expected at some high society luncheon, kept his arms folded over his chest.
Seth inhaled sharply when it clicked. Then he blinked and tilted his head, as though that would change the image his retinas were sending to his brain. No fucking way.
It was a look-alike was the first thought in his mind, but no. The tinted windows, hiding out from Wiktor. Silus Veturious was standing in front of him, as alive and healthy as any vampire could be.
“We’re going to have a calm discussion now,” Tall and Dark said.
“There’s not going to be any kind of—hey!”
His words were cut off as Seth shot forward and body-slammed into him, knocking the guard over and running for dear life for the front door.
“Wait!” It was the voice of the blond one, Cedric, if Seth remembered the name right, calling for him. Yeah. Fucking. Right.
That guy was a sun sprite and Seth had just finished re-growing his skin, thank you very much.
Heavy, booted footsteps followed Seth down the hallway. He had no idea where he was going, but anywhere was better than here.
One door different from all the rest appeared when he turned down another hall. Different because it was the door leading outside.
He flew to it, grabbed the handle, twisted it open—
And screamed as he was blasted in the face with direct sunlight.
He brought his arms up as a shield, but it burned, even through his clothes, and he fell back. Down, down, down, until the hard floor smacked into him.
Daylight. He’d forgotten.
Shouts rang out. Someone was above him. He couldn’t see, but then the clomp, clomp of steel toes told him who. The guard.
He shut the door, barring any more sunlight from getting in, and then Seth could feel the other man next to him, on his knees, way up in Seth’s personal bubble.
“You fucking idiot,” the man seethed.
Seth managed to crack his crispy lids open to get an up-close view of his rage. It almost made Seth want to laugh.
“We weren’t going to hurt you, idiot.” He said the insult again, unwrapping the bandages from his wrist and putting the healing bite marks to Seth’s mouth. “We just wanted to talk.”
“Fuck you,” Seth got out, right before he latched his lips onto that spot and sank his teeth into the punctures, reopening them and bringing a hiss out of his volunteer feeder.
He needed the blood. It would allow him to heal faster, and his
knee throbbed and killed again, although maybe he should be grateful for that part. Had he been going at actual vampire speed, he wouldn’t have stopped for that split second he was at the door, he would’ve run maybe twenty feet out into the sunlight before he could’ve stopped himself, and then he really would’ve been dead.
Still, he couldn’t wait to hear the reason why Silus Veturious and his sun sprite lover faked their deaths and left Seth to pay for it.
Chapter Seven
He was dreaming, and yet, not. He knew it was a dream because he was reliving the scene he had with Sammy that night he accepted the job as one of the Veturious family guards.
He’d been kneeling at Sammy’s bed, his hands on his brother’s thin arms, and Seth had been swelling with the most hope he’d felt since…well, ever. “These people can help us. I won’t be gone long and when I come back you’ll be healthy again.”
Sammy just looked at Seth as though he’d been the one to sell the family cow for miracle beans. “What do these people have that my doctors don’t? I’m okay right now anyway. I don’t want you to leave.”
It was true, Sammy had been doing better. His hair had finally had a chance to grow back and he had some color in his cheeks again, but Seth didn’t want to sit around and wait for it to end.
There was no way in hell he was about to say that he was going to work for a bunch of vampires, however. If his brother knew that, he’d flip out.
“They’re loaded and they’re going to pay me good money.” Not a lie, but not the whole truth either. They were definitely paying him more than what he could easily find with only a year’s worth of college under his belt. “Maria will stay with you and I’m going to call and visit whenever I can.”
Seth caught himself when he realized it had been the same thing their father had said after he remarried and moved in with his new wife. Seth gripped Sammy’s arms, probably tighter than he should have, but he couldn’t help it. “I swear to God I will. This will only be for a couple of months at most anyway.”