POV: Nikolas

“Bronze, petite, ya need ta come back soon; Niko’s startin ta get de heebie-jeebies.”

Devon didn’t respond. Nikolas sighed and got up to prowl the hotel suite. After leaving their new friends ~?~ Nikolas had ensconced them in an upscale, ritzy, establishment – marble stairs and balustrades leading up to the concierge desk. Crystal chandeliers and intricate wood work inlaid with gilt. Priceless artifacts and paintings and the kind of service he loved; everyone bending over backwards to accommodate them. The hotel manager himself, had come to escort them to the presidential suite.

Devon had spent two hours on the phone with his beau. Richard Johnston was on location in Rio doing another video for the marketing of his new CD. Nikolas knew that his dragon-prince was developing deep feelings for the musically inclined mutant, and was of two minds on the matter. On one hand, the vampire actually liked the young rap artist. Rich wasn’t a threat to their relationship but still, he was a factor. Nikolas knew that he was going to have to tell Devon the truth, and soon. He could see that the effects of the Xander/Spike situation were starting to get to Devon. Nikolas had never come out and said it, but he was sure Devon suspected his vampire’s intentions.

After the lengthy conversation, Devon had stripped, showered and folded himself into the lotus of meditation. Nikolas worried about the amount of energy Devon was expending on Xander and his problem. He’d been *working*, as if driven, since his arrival and Nikolas didn’t know what to do. Actually, he knew exactly what he wanted to do; it was just that Devon would be resistant in his tired inability to keep up.

“Ya don know how bad I wanna bite ya Devon,” the vampire growled.

Several minutes later, the long lashes fluttered and Devon opened his eyes. He blinked dazedly and Nikolas was momentarily mesmerized by the jewel-like quality of the violet orbs. Devon twined his fingers together and raised his hands, pressing his palms toward the ceiling and stretching the muscles in his arms and back. Nikolas stopped prowling to admire the play of muscle under cinnamon-brown skin. He watched as Devon unfolded his long legs and flexed his feet and toes before rising gracefully to his feet. Nikolas resisted the urge to reach out and grab the young man; his hair seethed against his back as the vampire curled his fingers inward toward his palms and dug his hands into the front pockets of his slacks.

Devon tossed the towel aside and reached for the packet of underwear. Nikolas bit his bottom lip as he watched Devon slide the silky material over the tight mounds of his ass before pulling on his jeans, socks, sneakers and a clean t-shirt.

“I need to go out,” Devon finally spoke. He pulled his fingers through his hair and turned to face Nikolas.

“Ya need ta rest petite,” Nikolas contradicted as he moved close. He wouldn’t allow himself to remove his hand from his pockets, but he did allow a few braids to snake over his shoulder and caress Devon’s cheek.

“I will, I promise. Later. Right now I... just need to be alone for a bit.”

“Rich...”

“Please, chér, don’t.” Devon placed a quick kiss on the vampire’s lips. “Rich... just misses me, he always gets *weirded* when I’m with you.”

“De homme needs ta remember zactly who he is, who you are,” Nikolas muttered darkly, watching as Devon opened the door and stepped out into the hall. When the door was closed and he could hear Devon moving on toward the elevators, the vampire finished his thought in a louder tone. “Mine.”

With Devon no longer in the room there was no need to keep his hands in his pockets and Nikolas pulled them out and flexed his fingers. He began pulling off his clothing as he headed toward the bathroom. The vampire spent a long time in the shower, thinking about Devon and choices.

A choice between sunshine and eternal moonlight; the life he had now and the one he was destined for; Rich Johnston and Nikolas Rá, and the danger lurking at their backs. Safety – that was the priority when it came down to it. His lust and desire were secondary. Devon safe was what Nikolas cared about more than anything else, and if it came down to it, Nikolas was willing to take the choice from Devon in order to keep him safe.

Nikolas wrung out his hair and allowed the braids to unravel under the wide-toothed comb he worked through it. Rubbing his eyes like a sleepy little boy, the little boy he felt like, Nikolas crawled into the bed and closed his eyes.

“Should’a bit dat ass anyway... gonna bite ‘im when he gets back,” the boyish creature mumbled into the pillow as he drifted to sleep, looking forward to dreams of sinking his fangs, and various other parts of himself, into his lil dragon-prince.

~~~~~
POV: Devon
~~~~~

Devon roamed. He was at odds with his feeling and unable to figure out exactly why. He missed home; the humid heat and fragrant air of the French Quarter. LA was smoggy and superficial and lacked charm and he missed Rich. The way he sounded, smelled, touched. Devon missed the way Rich tasted and felt. He really didn’t want to dwell on Rich; thoughts of the pantherine stud always got him heated up and that made him *want* all the more. But Devon also wanted to help Xander. Right now that took precedence over everything else; home, Rich, and even Nikolas.

The young healer had spent countless hours working inside of Xander’s dreams, carefully unlocking memories. Memories that took the form of dreams, releasing the things being kept locked away within the fogbank. In this manner, Devon learned of Xander’s past. He wept inside for the harshness the young man had endured. He would not, could not, bring himself to blur or alter those memories in any way because those experiences had served to make Xander the man he had become – one of the strongest men Devon had encountered in his twenty-two years.

In many ways, Xander was like him, passionate about life. Deeply spiritual, living in the now because he knew there wasn’t time to waste. His life was fragile, fraught with dangers that could kill him at any chance opportunity. Xander maintained a good sense of humor despite life’s kicking him to the curb so often and so harshly. There was an inherent charming kindness that glowed like a bright lamp. Devon could understand why Spike was stuck-stupid on Xan. He could also see the qualities in the blonde vamp that attracted Xander – outside of that hot little body. Spike was cool, caring, loving. He blustered loudly and hid his gentle vulnerability behind a mask of sarcastic indifference and devil may care attitude. No matter how much he tried, there was just no way Spike could hide the goodness within him. Devon had even noticed Nikolas noticing Spike. He wasn’t even going to try and touch Niko’s reaction to Angel.

~Dat is de path of serious danger, and he tells me I’m territorial. Yeah right!~

Xander’s passion was the problem. His feelings for Spike were extremely strong, as strong as the vampire’s feelings for him, and therein lay the conflict. Xander was willing to give up the daylight and all things *humanly normal* to be with Spike – forever. But he had tasted darkness and the heady power it offered. Xander feared that if Spike turned him, he would loose him. Xander was afraid to embrace the darkness within himself and thus, afraid that his passionate nature would drown him in the depths of the demonic. He had witnessed Angel’s glorious fall into evil; Willow in her moment of erotically beautiful hellishness, and lets don’t forget Spike, the Big Bad, William the Bloody before he got chipped.

~Mental note, ask Niko ‘bout dis chip shit.~

Xander feared what he would become. What he didn’t understand was that his darkness was a part of him, an integral part of his strengths as well as his weakness’. He needed to accept that he was capable of evil and in doing so, embrace that part of himself as well. Then, and only then, would he be strong enough to resist the pull of darkness, being swept up and swallowed by it, if it should happen that Xander became evil, it would be by choice, and that just wasn’t Xander Harris. This was what the young man needed to understand. Thinking about all of this made Devon think of his own vampire. The stirring of things inside as if something were waking from a long slumber. It made his blood sang. It scared and exhilarated him.

Determined not to think about *serious shit* anymore, Devon turned his thoughts to something completely mindless, like shopping. It was what he did whenever he needed a break from thinking too much; or cheering up and there was no-one there to give him a hug. Right now he really wanted a hug, but was willing to settle for the instant gratification of spending scads of money. He grabbed a quick breakfast and then got down to it.

Several hours later found him parking the brand new motorcycle at the curb and reluctantly cutting the purr of the engine. “Now dat’s what I call a *bike*,” he grinned as he pulled off his helmet and tucked it under his arm. Devon stood back to admire the sleek, silver-grey BMW motorcycle for several minutes before turning to bounce up the stairs and into the mega-music store.

The young man smirked as he grabbed the first CD and dropped it into the basket he was holding. He could almost hear Rich, being sarcastic and snarly, “and there you go! I just know you ain’t gonna waste money on that bitch-rap.”

Too bad, Devon liked Lil’ Kim, and E.V.E, and E-40. And yes, he was faithful and grabbed a copy of Rich’s new release – Riot-X, Major Coins. From there Devon hit the pop/rock/soul section – Toni Braxton, Kelly Price, Deborah Cox, Kelly Rawlins, Dru Hill, Genuine, and even that trollop Brittany. Devon was known to buy a CD just for one song; this was one of those buys. He didn’t really like the girl, he’d met the snobbishly vapid little air-head so he had his reasons, but he did like what they’d done with Vanity 6’s song, Nasty Girls. Slave had a sleazy groove he really got into. And of course, he had to have Carlos Santana, and that soulful young lady, Goapele – Closer was his meaningful jam at the moment. Then came the Zydeco, Devon snickered at some of the artist they had in the section, but he grabbed a few CD’s before heading for the Reggae – Beenie Man had that really hot track with Janet, and there was a track with Lil’ Kim that hadn’t hit the radio yet.

Several hours and a couple hundred dollars later, Devon was making his way toward the garment district where he planned to find some real underwear and clothing that wasn’t crimson or scarlet.

~~~~~
POV: Spike
~~~~~

Spike continued to make himself scarce. He wanted to talk to Xander and he didn’t. The vampire maintained more hope in the face of Xander not having wigged out when he found out about them, but he suddenly found himself afraid to approach his pet. Spike didn’t do rejection well.

Sounds from the large hotel kitchen had drawn him from his room to the upper level of the building. He remained hidden in the shadow, watching unseen, as Willow and Xander sat down to breakfast. Poor chit hadn’t had time for more than a few bites of toast and bacon before Cordelia had arrived like an overly perfumed tornado, and swept the red-head out of the hotel. Spike continued to remain in the shadows and watch Xander munching thoughtfully on his bacon, eggs, and toast while devouring another book. Spike’s keen eyes were able to catch the title when Xander propped the book against the sugar bowl and reached for his coffee – The Consort.

Spike’s dick was instantly hard and he started breathing as he watched Xander finish his meal and rise from the table. Spike groaned softly when he saw what Xander was wearing, his favorite pair of jeans. Xander hummed to himself as he washed up the dishes. The blonde shook his head when Xander took a sip of Willow’s cold herbal tea and made a sour-puss-face. Only Xander would heap sugar into cold tea, stir the syrupy concoction and then pour it out after one sip; satisfied that he was right. Anything tasted good if you added enough sugar.

From there, Spike trailed Xander as he made his way into the lobby and stopped to chat with Wes, who was manning the phones in Cordy’s absence. He slunk deeper into the shadowy background when Angel appeared and approached Xander. Spike had been expecting his grand-sire to move quickly once he realized that Xander was starting to remember. It had been his use of “dead-boy” that first time, and then his admission during the Buffy Drama.

Spike wanted to know what they had to say to each other so he slipped into the library where the two went to talk privately. Spike was of two minds on the conversation. On the one hand he wanted them to be able to retain the easy friendship they were developing, despite the growing interest on both their parts, and on the other, Spike didn’t want them being too friendly; because of that same interest. He was worried that Angel would claim Sire’s Right and take Xander from him, there was no doubt in his mind that it could happen if Angel chose.

The two men talked about what Xander remembered concerning the elder vampire. Xander apologized for his shitty behavior and treatment and Angel did the same. They both agreed that they liked the way things were, their growing friendship, and that the past should stay the past. They forgave each other and then Xander went to change for his training session.

~~~~~
POV: Angel - Xander
~~~~~

Scintillating. That’s how it felt to be in the room. The air heavy with panting breaths. Hair damp with sweat. The slap of skin against skin, limbs straining with effort. Gazes locked intently, a breathy grunt; the powerful miasma of testosterone – the atmosphere was vibrant.

The slap of a sweaty back on the practice mats and Xander grinned up into Angel’s face. There was an equally fierce grin stretched across the full lips, exposing even, white, teeth. A heave upward, the balance shifted. Another heave, a twisting thrust and Xander scrambled free. Both men were instantly on their feet. Sweat tricked from a temple, stung an eye. Angel lunged forward, Xander twisted out of reach.

“Good, you’re timing’s getting better, Xander, keep trusting your instincts. Don’t hold back,” Angel enthused.

“Oh you are so looking at a can of wip-ass now,” Xander challenged good naturedly.

“Then bring it on, boy.”

Xander charged. Blows were thrown and blocked. Kicks ducked and countered, holds broken and trip-throws avoided as the two men fought back and forth across the gym. Several of the smaller rooms had been converted into a full-scale gymnasium/training/workout facility. They were currently in the middle of another intense training session and Angel was forcing Xander to push his own limits. The vampire stepped up the speed little by little, forcing Xander to really exert and extend himself.

Little by little Angel wore him down. Blows got past Xander’s guard, then Angel was grabbing him and Xander’s feet left the floor, again. He stared up at the spinning ceiling dizzily. Angel was instantly on his knees beside him, keeping Xander from trying to move too quickly.

“Xander, I’m sorry. Are you alright? Does anything feel broken?”

“No, still in one piece, it just feeling like things are rattling around inside,” Xander groaned.

“Here, let me help you.”

Angel helped Xander to his feet and caught him when he stumbled. Their sweaty chest made contact, pressing the damp fabric of their t-shirts against skin. Their gazes locked intently. Their faces were mere inches apart, it was impossible to tell who leaned in first. And then it happened, their lips met, a feather light brush and then they were pressing together. Angel’s tongue flicked across Xander’s lips, delved inside as they parted and the two kissed greedily. They clutched at each other, hands on shoulders, hips, sweat pants clad buttocks.

Angel broke the kiss, pulling away first. “Xander, I’m sorry, I “ he dropped his hands and stepped back. Xander opened his eyes.

“What?” he was slightly dazed. Kissing Angel had been as intense as he’d imagined it would be.

“I didn’t mean for that to happen.”

“It’s okay, I don’t... I sort of wanted it to. A part of me did anyway.” Xander looked away and then back.

“Xander, what about Spike? What about what’s between the two of you?”

“I could ask you the same thing,” Xander came back quietly.

“There’s nothing between me and Spike, Xander...”

“You’re wrong, Angel,” Xander cut him off.

“You don’t understand,” Angel sighed in frustration. He raked his fingers through his damp hair and began pacing back and forth. He cast periodic looks in Xander’s direction.

“I understand a lot more than you think.”

“Then you should understand this, Spike wants *you* and there is nothing between us.”

“Because the two of you are too stubborn to admit how you feel. Spike may want me, Angel, but he wants you too, just as much as you want him. I don’t have a problem with this, I can’t believe I’m saying this, but I really don’t I do understand. I *know* about the sire/child bond thing. Research-boy here, or did you forget?”

“I’m his grand-sire,” Angel corrected, as if that made a difference. Xander challenged that.

“Does that make it more intense then? Does it work differently?”

“No,” Angel growled. Xander nodded. He took a deep breath and spoke again.

“I hope this comes out right. What just happened, well it happened. I’m not sorry and you shouldn’t feel bad about it. That was, that was between us Angel, just like what happens between you and Spike is between you two and I should have no bearing on that.”

Angel looked at him in askance. It was Xander’s turn to rake at his hair and pick up the pacing Angel had abandoned.

“Spike and I... well I remember a *lot* more about that, us,” Xander winked, “and we’ll work things out. But the two of you need to work things out as well. If you and I can get past our past, then don’t you think you and Spike should be able to? Whatever it was, Angel, it was a long time ago, let it go. Get it out, talk... fight, whatever, just let it go and do what you both want, what I think you both *need*.”

“And what’s that?” Angel couldn’t help but see what Xander was saying. He knew the young man was right too and wasn’t able to restrain the semi-embarrassed, self-conscious smile that broke out when Xander finally answered.

With a definitely mischievous gleam and an equally suggestive grin, Xander told him. “Shag maybe?” he shrugged and moved toward the door. “Were we finished here, or did you want to play beat up on the Xan-man bag some more?”

“No, we’re good,” Angel murmured, watching Xander with another massive dose of new found understanding, respect and friendship.

“Good, I’m gonna grab a shower. Think about what I said,” and then he was slipping out.

“Thanks,” Angel nodded. He remained where he stood for several minutes, then, “Spike?” he peered into the shadows at the far end of the room. “Are you gonna lurk in the shadows all day or what?”

Spike stepped into view and the two vampires just stood staring at each other for a long time.

“Well?”

“Now you see why I love him.” Angel nodded. “He’s smart. Too damn smart sometimes and he’s the best thing that’s happened to me in a long time,” Spike finished with a grumble, but he softened his words with a tentative smile.

Angel returned the smile and nodded again. “So what do you think?”

“That the whelp had a good point, a lot of them.” The tentative smiles became a bit more relaxed and confident. “But I think we should do the talking thing first.”

“Yeah, that would be the best place to start,” Angel agreed as they finally moved together and exchanged the first real hug in a long, long time.

*****
Part 22:

Xander stepped out of the shower and stuck his head out of the bathroom. “Come on in, I’ll just be a sec,” he yelled in response to the knocking on the door. He finished drying his skin and reached for the short kimono robe on the back of the door and knotting it closed loosely as he stepped out into the living area. Spike stood in the center of the room, staring at the dark screen of the television. He looked around and saw Xander walking toward him with his head slightly down as he knotted the belt of his robe. Xander looked up and caught Spike studying him. There was the strangest expression on his sharply beautiful face and he was staring at Xander as if he’d never seen anything like him before.

The kimono clung to his well defined chest and Spike had to force himself to lift his gaze from the hints of dusky brown nipples, puckered from the cool draft of air. His blue eyes slid over lips that were capable of babbling a hundred miles a minute, wanting to kiss them, remembering the feel of their perfection on his, the taste. Spike let his gaze move over the beautiful features – eyes, nose, cheekbones, strong jaw, incredibly quirky lips, stubborn chin, making Xander catch his breath from the intensity. He felt as if he were being electrified. He had to look away.

Spike caught the look on Xander’s face and his stomach did little flips, making him feel weak. He’d thought he would never see that look on Xander’s face again. Spike flushed and looked away as he realized that Xander had caught him staring and a smug smile settled on Xander’s face. Xander stepped closer, never taking his steady brown gaze from Spike’s. He reached out with dreamy slowness and stroked the back of his tanned fingers over the cool flesh. The electric shock was still there when their skin made contact. Xander gasped and Spike stepped back. “Xander,” he whispered.

Xander moved forward crowding Spike’s personal space. Xander shivered under the cool caress of Spike’s voice. He could hear a clock somewhere, counting off the seconds as he moved closer – 10, Spike felt a flash of heat – 9, his knees started to tremble – 8, Xander could hear the blood pounding through his head – 7, Spike’s throat got drier – 6, he was drowning in the blue ocean of Spike’s eyes – 5, Xander slid his arms around his waist – 4, Spike started breathing – 3, Xander moved in even closer – 2, Spike whispered his name again, husky with desire, his breath stirring the hair near his ear – 1, the soft brush of warm lips against his, sweetness – 0, he went up in flames, dying and being reborn as the kiss deepened, bringing sensations.

~So cool and soft, gorgeous. I so missed this can’t loose this missed this always felt so good tasted so good~

Xander caressed upward to Spike’s shoulders. He put a hand on his neck, fingering the soft hair while his other hand slid down to Spike’s denim clad ass, pulling them closer still.

~If he pulls me any closer I’ll be standing behind him~

Xander nibbled at Spike’s bottom lip. His tongue flickered over the cool lips, tentatively asking for entrance. Spike’s lips parted and the kiss deepened, Spike tilting his head to the side as Xander locked his fingers in the short blonde waves. Spike caressed the roof of his mouth with the tip of his tongue as he molded Xander against his hard body. Reality crashed in – Xander. This was his Xander, the Xander who remembered him. Surprised, Spike let go. His passion glazed eyes watching Xander.

“Wot, Xander...”

“Hush, I’m busy,” Xander muttered as he sidled up even closer him and groped Spike’s crotch; Spike didn’t stop hm, just panted as he pushed into Xander’s hand. Xander slowly unbuttoned his fly and allowed Spike’s dick the freedom it needed to grow into full hardness.

“Xander,” Spike panted.

“Sex,” Xander finished and then covered Spike’s mouth to keep him from talking. Then he was dropping to his knees, voice sounding husky with sex, “Xander-sex,” from between Spike’s legs, his mouth covering the whole of Spike’s engorged prick. Xander pushed his lips into the feathery brush of Spike’s pubes; his hands roamed the contours of Spike’s chest, fingering his sensitive nipples through the thin material of his black t-shirt. Spike started thrusting into the hot wet mouth. Xander sucked on his long shaft, tongue cradling him until he was fully primed.

Xander stopped what he was doing and looked up at his lover, his dark eyes full of lust and desire. If Xander hadn’t been holding him so tightly, Spike would have just dropped from the intensely hot look burning up at him. Xander, on his knees, hair damp, eyes blazing and his delicious lips wrapped around Spike’s dick. The picture shorted his brain. When Spike came back they were kissing, tongues meeting the feel of breath against breath. Nipples jutted out defiantly as Xander pulled off his t-shirt and put his nose close to the chest, drawing his tongue up against the taut skin, “Mmm, you taste good.”

Spike let himself be picked up and carried into the bedroom, later he admitted that it was the sexiest thing anyone had ever done to him. “I’ll definitely remember that for next time,” Xander said.

In the bed, their bodies met in the center of the mattress. Xander ducked his head and put his mouth on Spike’s chest, lapping around and around the left nipple, brining it up into a hard pale-pink peak. He licked down the thin, almost invisible, trail of fine blonde hair leading into the silk that lay around the base of Spike’s cock, and worked his tongue into it. He snaked his body down so he could burrow into Spike’s crotch making him buck and squirm.

Xander pulled at his jeans and Spike raised his hips, allowing Xander to peel them down and off. Xander cursed and muttered as he slid off the bed and bent to the task of untangling Spike’s jeans from over his boots and then getting said boots, and socks off. He yanked the jeans from Spike’s pale legs and dropped them as he crawled back up on the bed.

Xander knelt between Spike’s splayed legs and started licking his cock from root to tip; making Spike’s dick twitch and hop across his belly like a teased dog on a leash, leaving a sticky trail of drool everywhere it went. Xander grabbed the slippery cock in his fist and brought his mouth down over the head.

“Oooh, your mouth feels so good, pet,” Spike breathed as Xander took the entire length into his throat with one swallow, his throat muscles constricting around the glans. He wormed his hands under Spike’s buttocks and squeezed them until Spike gasped. Spike held on to his head and fucked Xander’s mouth slowly – rolling him over, never leaving the hot orifice – and started doing push-up into it.

He wanted to stop, to draw it out, prolong the beautifully intense moment. He flexed himself out of Xander’s sucking mouth with an audible little *pop*. Xander’s hands on his hips guided his body down until they were face to face. Xander pulled him down and rolled them over, covering Spike with his heat, making them both moan at the sensation of skin against skin.

Spike shivered as the blanket of heat vanished and he opened his eyes to look around. He saw Xander disappear into the other room and quickly return with a tub of something slippery. Xander glared at him and Spike decided not to say anything after all, just grin as Xander climbed on top of him and began to apply the lube to his aching cock.

Xander took a breath and some of Spike’s as well as he covered his mouth for another ravishing kiss. He positioned his hips so that the head of Spike’s stiff column touched his lubed up, puckered opening. Xander let his hips drop and felt the first inch enter him. And then he felt his hole opening like an aperture, and the head of Spike’s cock slipped in.

“Oooh,” Xander groaned sweetly, needily. It hurt, some, but not much and not for long as he felt the slow slide of Spike’s gorgeous shaft rasping across his ass lips. Xander pinched his own nipples, twisting and pulling them until they hurt with an intense sweetness. He bucked and rocked slowly in Spike’s lap, fucking himself.

“Ride me, luv,” Spike’s voice was guttural as he placed his hands on Xander’s hips.

“Riding you, Spike, my Spike, love you,” Xander panted, biting the inside of his lips. His head fell back, exposing his corded neck and Spike licked his lips, wanting, but willing to wait; this was about Xander, what he wanted, and Spike let his lover do what he wanted. Xander raised his ass and Spike’s cock swizzled his insides. It was sheer bliss, excellence and Xander enjoyed it extensively, bouncing up and down, moaning and groaning and even making Spike blush – well as much as was possible for his almost non-existent blushability – with the things he said, demanding it loudly, proudly, wanting more, more, more!

“Not so loud, pet, peaches and four-eyes might hear you,” Spike gasped as Xander rode him.

“Who cares, just fuck!”

His skin stuck to Xander’s, his cock delved into the soft heat, pressure building behind his balls. He opened his mouth and Xander bent down to shove his thick tongue into it. Spike mewled as he stroked into Xander’s buttery soft tightness. The heat was mind-bendingly overwhelming. Xander was intense and very enthusiastic and he pulled Spike along with him over the edge of orgasm. It was powerful, and neither could hold back any longer. “Cumming,” Xander gasped with a wild spray of semen. Thick jets arced up to spatter against their chest. Some smacked Spike between the eyes and his legs stretched out, making the muscles of his thighs taut. He could feel a bubble of orgasm rise up from his testicles to spread across his stomach.

“Oh fuck, ooh fuuck!” Spike gasped as his orgasm tore through him; geysering up into Xander’s clutching depths as the hot muscles contracted around his dick, milking him spasmodically. Damp with sweat and limp in the aftermath of another round of Xander-sex, Spike rolled them onto their sides and eased free of Xander. The warm body trembled and then Spike was dragging the edge of the bedspread over them. He curled around Xander and put his head on the broad chest, listening to Xander’s heart and drifting in the blissful return of his pet.

~~~~~

Devon breezed into the hotel lobby and flashed his Colgate-smile at the young woman behind the concierge desk. “Bon jour, m’moiselle,” light tenor, softy accented with southern spice.

The woman looked up, “Oh, my... I mean yes, Hello. Welcome to the Sofitel Los Angeles,” she was slightly flustered by the bright smile, dark-framed eyes. “How may I help you this afternoon, sir?” Something tickled at her memories, she had the feeling she’d seen him someplace before. He had that air of ‘money and fame’ surrounding him.

Devon lowered the wattage of his smile and shifted his helmet. “J’em appelle Devon Dexter and I’m expecting several deliveries. Have they arrived as yet?”

“Oh, Mr. Dexter, one moment please, let me check. It’s such a pleasure to meet you. You’re an incredible dancer,” she babbled while tapping away at her keyboard, checking the logs. Now she new where she had seen him and who he was, “You were really hot in that video with what’s his name... Riotex?”

Devon couldn’t help but smile as he lowered his dense lashes in modest embarrassment. It was nice to be recognized, but he hoped she wouldn’t go off telling the entire staff that he was staying in the hotel. Devon didn’t want to deal with reporters asking questions – most of them awkward – or photographers trying to snap pictures of him.

“Merci, mais, it would mean a lot if you didn’t let on to anyone that I’m here. Trying to enjoy a bit of piece and quiet, you know,” he whispered conspiratorially. He leaned against the desk and gave her that *look*, the one that got him almost everything he wanted. The young woman flushed with desire as she returned that riveting look.

“Ye-yes, of course, I know exactly what you mean,” she breathed with a shaky nod and hoped she wasn’t drooling all over the place. “I’m sorry to say that there have been no deliveries as yet. Shall I ring your room when they arrive?”

“Merci, chére, dat’s trés magnifique! Bien,” Devon said as he handed over several receipts from all the places he’d been shopping and was expecting to deliver the multitude of purchases. He accepted the key-card and made his way across the light colored, marble floor to the sweeping staircase, another marbled affair with red, grey, and white, patterned carpet running down the center. He admired the large Parisian painting mounted on the wall where the landing split off in two directions leading up to the wrought-iron railed balcony mezzanine. He decided he liked the hotel; there was an air of a French-Creole chateau, a country villa ambiance reminiscent of home.

Nikolas’ slacks and shirt were draped across one of the light colored wooden sitting chairs with blue and white stripped cushions, and Devon tossed his t-shirt and socks on the other as he approached the bed. He stared down at the loose spill of Niko’s hair, captivated, as always, by the dark mass of glittery ash and jet. He smiled as a lock of hair twined around his fingers when he stroked the silken tresses. Nikolas murmured and rolled over. His silver eyes blinked sleepily up at Devon and then he was reaching out to pull the boy down.

“Missed ya chér, ya been gone a long time, have fun spending money?” Nikolas said sleepily as he tumbled Devon into the bed.

Devon giggled as he tried to squirm away. “Yes. Stop that,” he gasped as tendrils of hair snaked across his bare skin. They tussled across the king-size bed until Nikolas pinned Devon on his back and claimed his lush lips. Devon’s struggles grew weak as Nikolas assaulted him with tongue, hands, and hair. Streamers of silken fire caressed and slithered across Devon’s shoulders, his neck and chest. Strands wrapped around his sensitive nipples, burning with sweet fire as they tugged and twined caressingly around the dark brown nubs. Nikolas twined his long legs with Devon’s as he licked circles around and round the inside of his parted lips.

“Don’t,” Devon gasped as he made another attempt to escape. His sudden burst on unexpected movement rolled the vampire off, but he held on to Devon, pulling him along and on top as Nikolas rolled onto his back. “Please stop,” Devon whimpered as he tried to sit up. His palms pressed into Nikolas’ hard muscled chest as he straddled the vampire’s lean, naked waist.

Nikolas stared up at him with hooded pools of silver. His hands moved to Devon’s narrow waist, rocking his hips in small easy motions. Devon’s hands traced those on his waist, sliding over preternatural skin until the pads of his fingertips met human warmth. He moved his hands over his own abdomen, fingers spread wide as he slid his palms over his chest, pressing his stiff nipples into the sweaty skin. One hand continued upward to his face, the other snaked back down. Fingers wormed under his waistband to finger the curly hair of his groin. Devon sucked and bit on his index finger, unable to look away from the swirling pools of mercury. His own pupils were dilated, squeezing the grey-flecked violet into a thin band as Nikolas stroked his arousal higher.

“Share,” Nikolas whispered huskily, watching, mesmerized, as the hand left the wetness of human mouth and invaded his. The moist digit circled his lips teasingly and his head made small circles led by the finger as he tried to capture it. He was allowed, grazing the warm digit with his white teeth as he sucked Devon’s finger in. Nikolas savored Devon’s taste as it slid over his tongue, in and out of his open mouth. Their gazes remained locked. Hair slithered across their exposed torsos, teasing dark areolas as Devon arched his back.

“No,” he whispered softly as the vampire sat up and kissed his sternum, “please.” The vampire’s cool fingers worked at his belt and Devon was unable to stop them as he was held by the silken bindings of hair around his wrist. His soft moan was ignored. Cool lips moved across his chest, leaving a wet trail as the tongue tasted him. Kisses on his nipple, the scrape of a fang and Devon gasped when it pricked him. The glittering head rose, silver eyes swirling as they watched the bead of blood swell. Nikolas darted forward and captured the red jewel as it began to slide free, a tonguing kiss that moved into intense suction. Hands slid down the lean back, tracing along the arched spine until they met the material of a waistband. Wickedly clever digits wormed past, seeking the thin scrape of cloth, the underwear he so loved to see his lil dragon bundled in. Nikolas tugged the waistband, pulling another soft moan as the pouch pulled the genitals tighter against the body. Devon’s ass pressed back as the material slipped between his buttocks and pressed into his nether lips. Strong fingers nudged the material aside, the middle digit sliding over the tight brown pucker.

“Niko, please,” Devon whimpered as the vampire moved to his other nipple and pricked him. Shudders raced through his body as Nikolas sucked on the nub and worked the finger in maddening circles around his anus, making him respond, making him weak. His muscles twitched as he flowered open under the teasing strokes. There was heat in his chest and his breathing turned to gasped murmurs.

“Wanna take y’ Dev, gotta have y’ now. Been waiting so long f’ dis, please baby, let me have ya. Niko wants ya so bad chér,” Nikolas babbled against his skin. Licking and kissing his way down to the boys fluttering belly, delving into his navel. Hair tingled down Devon’s arms, wrapped around his wrist as he twisted in the vampire’s grasp. His hips rolled against his will, welcoming the delving finger stirring him up inside, opening him. He babbled ‘no’s, ‘don’ts, ‘stop’s even as he continued to respond heatedly.

“Give ya-self t’ me chér, let Niko have ya.”

Nikolas lowered him gently onto his back and Devon was unable to resist. His blood sang loudly in his inner ear. It hissed and burned through him, setting his body on fire from the inside while his vampire set him on fire from the outside. Devon shivered as he lifted his hips and Nikolas pulled his pants away, tossing them in the direction of the chairs near the foot of the bed. Nikolas stared down at his beauty. He grasped a shapely foot and kissed the sole fervently, licked up and around the ankle before trailing kisses and licks along the calf. His tongue tasted the bend of Devon’s knee. His fangs lengthened, dropping down to their full extension as he nibbled a trail up the sensitive skin of inner thigh.

Devon gasped, moaned and babbled in broken French patois as he legs fell open and Nikolas nuzzled his damp groin, inhaling him deeply, getting intoxicated by the musky scent wafting up from Devon’s heated skin. Nikolas mouthed the slick material, making it damper with his saliva as he chewed gently and lovingly on Devon’s cock and balls. His hands slid under the bucking hips and re-claimed the hot globes of flesh as Devon clamped his thighs against the side of the vampire’s head, trapping his ears. Nikolas moaned with need, his member drooling against the dark blue bedspread as he tugged and pulled at Devon’s underwear, tearing the thin material away to expose his beautiful, slim erection and pre-cum and spit damp pubic hair.

Devon was beyond coherent speech as his cock was swallowed hungrily. He spread his legs wide as the clever fingers returned to massaging his quivering pucker. He thrashed wildly on the bed as Nikolas continued to deep throat him, dragging him to the edge of orgasm before relenting. The dark head rose one final time, slowly, lips clinging to the spit shiny brown shaft as he kissed the throbbing head. Nikolas tongued the slit until Devon screamed. His body bucked wildly on the invading fingers being worked into his tight ass. His fingers tangled in Niko’s hair. Nikolas’ hair slithered up the length of his arms, binding and caressing.

“Cum for me Devon, cum now,” Nikolas groaned as he gave in and sank his fangs into the tender flesh of Devon’s pubes. Stars and burst of color, like a garden of flowers blooming open in a domino effect when the long fingers found his prostate and stroked. Devon’s cock swelled, jerked and then spewed a fount of creamy cum. Nikolas scooped up what he could with trembling fingers. Devon moaned weakly as his ultra-sensitive cock was again sucked into the vampire’s greedy mouth. Nikolas cleaned his skin of every last dribble of fragrant, milky fluid before rising up on his knees and fisting his own cock. He smeared it with Devon’s gooey offering.

“Say yes, Bronze, Devon. Let me have ya mon amour,” Nikolas begged.

“Yesyeshavemeallofmedontstop. YoursNikoyoursalways. Takemenowmakethesingingstop,” Devon babbled. His hips were grasped firmly, his body pulled closer as Nikolas placed the fat head of his cock against the twitching of Devon’s hot hole. They both held their breath as Nikolas stretched him further, working his thick, long cock into Devon with short humping thrusts. Devon whined, his eyes rolled back in his head as Nikolas slid forward, digging into his tight channel with his incredible cock. The burn of being stretched and filled to capacity added to the burn of his blood, the fire in his chest as Nikolas stroked his insides.

His babbling was swallowed as Nikolas kissed him breathless, sucking on his lips until they were swollen and slightly bruised. Pouty and highly fuckable, Nikolas bit them lightly, drawing a trickle of blood, driven on by the thudding of Devon’s heart, the call of his blood. Drowning. It was like being submerged in liquid heat. Breathing pure flame as they rode the waves of desire and fulfillment to the pinnacle. Devon reached down to smear his fingers in the drops of blood oozing from his pubic mound. He brought them to Nikolas’ lips. Felt the air of his lover’s pants before his fingers were sucked into the wet orifice. Then Nikolas was pulling him up by the shoulders and sucking on his lips again. Devon clawed at the bronzed body, down the back, gripping the globes of Niko’s round little perfect ass. Devon pulled him in harder, faster, deeper.

“Please,” he whined with a catch in his voice. Fangs grazed the heated skin of his neck. The exquisite burn of Nikolas’ kiss as the fangs pierced the flawless skin, marking him, sinking deeper to allow the heady blood to flow freely. “Cuummm,” Devon wailed as he erupted again and was rewarded with the sizzling wash of Nikolas’ vampiric cum soothing his clenching walls as they sank limply to the bed. The mage-energy imbued substance soothed an icy/hot balm though his insides and up into his brain as they spiraled down. Nikolas lapped at his bite wound, sealing the punctures and stopping the flow of blood he could drink forever.

The intensity scared him at times. Devon’s blood was so pure, so sweet, so powerful. And there were times when Nikolas feared to bite his lover, for fear of consuming Devon completely. Only that would satisfy the hunger he had for the young healer, at times like this. His body trembled with tiny after-shocks, multiple orgasms as Nikolas sank down on top of the willing body. His now. Devon was utterly his and with a smug smile of satisfaction, Nikolas curled them tighter together and slipped back into sleep.

*****
Part 23:

Xander woke a few hours later to find he was alone in the bed. He lay between the coolness of the sheets and stared at the ceiling, remembering. He could clearly remember every kiss, every caress, and every breathtaking thrust. Spike, oh yeah, he remembered Spike. He wondered where the blonde was. Xander contemplated taking another shower but then decided it could wait as he heard sounds out in the other room. He climbed out of the bed and looked around for his robe. It wasn’t where he’d dropped it; the only thing he saw were Spike’s jeans, turned inside out from when he’d pulled them off earlier. Xander grinned and made his way into the living area naked.

· Edina - “You can drop the attitude. You only work in a shop.”

· Saffy – “Mum! That man just pinched me!”

· Patsy – “Don't worry; he's very old and obviously blind.”

Laughter from the television and Spike snorted. “Hey,” Xander said as he entered the larger room. Spike was sprawled on Xander’s couch, wearing the kimono robe. Xander thought he looked stunning in the rich blue linen material, it really complimented his eyes. It also complimented the rest of him too, considering it was partially open, exposing Xander’s favorite vampire parts. Spike jumped at the sound of the voice coming from the direction of the bedroom. He was so caught up in the program he was watching he hadn’t heard Xander enter the room.

“Xan-pet, you’re up,” Spike smiled as Xander moved closer. “Hungry?” he asked, gesturing at the tray of snacks he’d pilfered from the kitchen. There were chips, cookies, beer, soda, and a couple of sandwiches.

“Hmm, yeah, to both,” Xander drawled as Spike made space for him on the settee. He stroked Xander’s semi-erect cock as his pet slid behind him and stretched his legs out on either side, pulling Spike back against his chest. “What are you watching?” Xander asked as he accepted one of the sandwiches and began to munch happily, “pass the chips, babe.”

Spike reached down and grabbed the bowl and settled it in his lap. Xander dug into the bowl, purposefully pressing it against Spike’s swelling erection. “Right now I’m watching your hand,” Spike told him. Xander chuckled.

“On the t.v. fang.”

“Here now, is that anyway to talk to your Spike?”

“That all depends...”

“Mmmm,” Spike grinned as he flexed his hips back against Xander, upsetting the bowl so a few chips bounced out into his lap. He settled back against the tanned chest while popping the chips into his mouth and garbling out the name of whatever program it was.

“What did you say?”

“Absolutely Fabulous,” Spike informed him.

“Don’t think I’ve ever heard of that one.”

“M’not surprised, its British humor... over yer head, I’m thinking- Xander!” Spike yelped when Xander dug his fingers into his ticklish ribs. Chips flew into the air, some as far as the center of the room where they plunked down and crumbled to pieces; others decorated Spike’s chest and groin. Xander tipped the bowl and peeked in.

“There aren’t any more,” he was pouting. Spike sat up and twisted around to blink at him. He looked at the chips scattered all over the place, then leaned his back into Xander’s chest. Spike grabbed a hand full of the chips from his lap and held one up for Xander.

“Here, pet.”

“You’re so good to me, baby, thanks *crunch*,” Xander bit into the chip and mumbled out his thanks. Spike grinned as Xander continued to nibble away at the pizza-flavored potato-chip. When it was gone, Xander nibbled at Spike’s fingers and his vampire reached down for another chip.

“You gotta see this; it’s about these two raunchy, crude, lewd, and perfectly hysterical bints. One of them is rich... that one! Edina – Eds– got a brat she does,” Spike indicated as the woman on the television started stuffing beluga into her fur coat. “That’s her best-friend, Patsy, really like her, she’s a hoot.” Xander watched as the bee-hived blonde in question lit up a cigarette and began stuffing bottles of champagne into her friend’s bag.

· Patsy – “Just like high school, wot,” she mumbled around her smoke.

The shot cut to the two women running from the store with a stolen shopping cart full of merchandise. The blonde had forgotten to set the parking break and their car was rolling out of the parking lot all by it self. “All she does if free load off her friend, and the two of them have these hilarious flashbacks to their younger days when they were both doing every drug under the sun,” Spike informed him. Xander shook his head but within five minutes he was as hooked as Spike and the two of them sat there and watched the next three episodes. The next shot had them in an art gallery.

· Edina – “This is a sort of corpse in an open, oaken, oblong coffin. It's a dead body, Pats.”

· Patsy – “Yeah, but is it art?”

· Edina – “No Sweetie, it's my father.”

“Are they always like that?” Xander wanted to know.

“Oi, and it does get better, just wait until Ol’ Pat’s starts with the booze and the pills. She’s got more shit in that bag of hers,” Spike informed him. “This is notorious,” Spike continued as they shifted into flashback mode, “Patsy hired two male escorts for an orgy. She thinks it will help Ed get over her sexual hang-ups.” They were snorting lines, swilling down booze and popping pills. Someone passed around a joint and the scene went up in clouds of smoke:

Patsy and Saffy were standing in the hall. The bee-hive blonde twisted her head to check both ends of the hallway and then leaned toward the girl. She exhaled a plume of smoke off to the side, never disturbing the ash tilting like that famous leaning tower.

· Patsy – “You should have ended up in the dustbin. The incinerator was too good for you. You know, when I heard that Eds was pregnant, I told her to abort. Abort! Abort! Abort! Flush it down the pan! Bring me...”

· Saffy – “A knitting needle?”

· Patsy – “A knitting needle!”

Later, in the kitchen with the grandmother, who was only hard of hearing when her daughter spoke to her.

· Edina – “Inside of me, sweetie, inside of me, there is a thin person just screaming to get out.”

· Mother – “Just the one, dear?”

· Edina – “Look at Mummy, darling. Do I need surgery?”

· Saffy – “Yes... get your mouth sewn up.”

Pasty sweeps in from the yard entrance, cigarette dangling from the corner of her mouth, eye squinted shut from the smoke.

· Patsy – “Soon I'll be bendy like Madonna, darling. Then I'll be able to kiss my own ass from both directions. New York, Here I come!”

Patsy is wearing her trade-mark, pink, Channel suit, the one Marge Simpson re-made about a thousand times on that one episode.

· Saffy – “Oh, it’s you again; I thought they didn't let people with drug convictions into America”

· Patsy – “It's not so much a conviction, darling. It's more of a strong belief. You know,” she paused to puff on her super long cigarette, never letting the ash fall off. She inhaled deeply, sucking up half of the cigarette then held it out to she side, “with one snap of my fingers and I can raise hemlines so high the whole world's your gynecologist.'”

“Does she remind you of anyone?” Xander teased.

~~~~~

They were sitting on the bed facing each other, legs crossed Indian style. Their knees pressed together; backs straight, stomachs flat and bumped up with musculature. Torsos, chest, and arms etched and detailed with toning. Hands, shapely with clever fingers that were intimately familiar with picking locks, as well as other things, were folded loosely in their laps. Mirror images – position of limbs, physicality’s, twins; almost; distinguishable only by the hue of skin, hair and eyes, one slightly shorter than the other.

“We need to talk; there are things you need to know... I feel the time is coming when...” Nikolas looked away from Devon’s calm. He didn’t seem all that surprised, had always known there was more. Devon had wanted to know, but knew that knowing would change everything. Exciting and thrilling, terrifying but, Devon was calm. Expectant. The secret was revealed, their history told. Devon was different – something he’d always been aware of. He wasn’t fully human, in many ways, he was like Nikolas. “You are the last male heir of Rá, the last of my bloodline, my only living descendent.”

Nikolas told a story then, the story of an ancient queen waking from a centuries old slumber. Called by the music of a dashing young devil; a young mother awakened by her child’s cry of loneliness. He told of the last battle, the final stand of the Children of the Millennium, and how it ended. Then Nikolas revealed what not even Lestat had known. Before she claimed him, Akasha had sought out the descendents of his first Childe, the mad violinist, Nikolas. Through the cities of Europe she had moved until she found the one who was Nikolas reborn, mad and steeped in magic. She had lured the young mage with the promise of immortality and power if he would but grant her one wish. She wanted a child. The mad mage helped her, by use of the mage-energies he manipulated; he made it possible for her un-dead eggs to become fertilized by his seed. Then through another bending of the energies toward Verbena – blood magic – the egg was transferred to a mortal host and brought to full term in a matter of hours. When the child was born she killed the host. And then she killed the mage as well. It was a well known fact that the Queen of the Damned harbored a very twisted sense of love and loyalty.

The child was taken to Louis, who sworn to secrecy. Akasha was as fond of the dark-haired, green-eyed vampire as she was of his sire. She trusted Louis to keep the child safe, to care for him as he had for the daughter Lestat had given him. Then Akasha turned her will toward her future king and her mad plan to rule the world, her way. Her first brood rose against her and she was destroyed. Lestat discovered the child’s existence, and seeing it as the last and final link to his beloved queen, he helped Louis care for that child until it was almost two. Much to Lestat’s dismay, the child was not blessed with fangs and required life in the sun shine, so they took the child, Nikolas, to Fémali, another descendant of the Lestat’s Nikolas. Fémali was chosen because she too was a mage and would be able to protect and care for little Nikolas.

Fémali raised the boy as her very own grandchild. When Nikolas reached puberty his affinity for magic, his potential, became evident and Fémali began to instruct him in the Order of Hermes. When Nikolas was nineteen, he was stolen from her by the vampire Lorenzo and turned. When Lorenzo turned Nikolas, he unlocked the ancient blood of Akasha and all of the mage’s potential, creating the first Vampire-Mage. What no-one knew was that at the age of seventeen Nikolas met a brother and sister – twins – mages. The sister followed the ways of the Akashic Brotherhood and the brother, the Cult of Ecstasy. In secret, they began to train the young mage when he showed an affinity for their Traditions as well, and a year later Nikolas fathered a child with Celeste. When Nikolas vanished, the twins left New Orleans in fear for the baby’s life and hid in Egypt. When Nikolas made his first play in the war of revenge on his Sire, he escaped Russia and went back to New Orleans. The twins and his child were gone and before he could begin the search in earnest, Lorenzo found and dragged him to Italy. From there Nikolas used his abilities to track the twins to Egypt.

Devon was the result of that long ago union. He was a Mage of the Traditions, born with the potential for Akashic Brotherhood and the Order of Hermes. The queen’s blood was strong and because of that and the magic tampering, all of Nikolas’ male off-spring carried the blood of their ultimate father. Niko’s blood flowed in Devon’s veins. Devon was not fully human, but a quasi-mortal as Nikolas had been before he was turned. Part vampire and part mage.

It was a lot for Devon to take in all at once. If he understood it correctly – Niko’s claim of his blood-ties to the queen he so often spoke of, were true – he was her *Childe* – of magic and vampirism. It seemed that Nikolas had potential for more than one path of the Traditions, which spoke of things Devon didn’t want to think about but was forced to face. From what he understood, a mage only had potential for one path. The only mage to ever have more had been the Ascension-Mage.

~Niko has potential like that...~

Devon shied away from the reality. His vampire was more than just a vampire-mage; Nikolas was the next Ascension-Mage. He had fathered a child and Devon was the ultimate result, born with Nikolas’ potentials.

“Ya be a Dreamspeaker, an’ a Healer, chér, de first in a long time. No one knows what all dey can do, de limits of dere influence and power.” Nikolas studied Devon for a moment, shrugging as he continued, “ An' y’ got de potential f’ more...”

Then Nikolas explained the Traditions again, he wanted Devon to fully understand the power within him. “First be The Akashic Brotherhood, dey combine inner peace wit physical prowess, honing de body and mind wit martial arts an’ discipline. The Celestial Chorus believe dat in every human soul shines de spark o Creation, an’ from de universe's song dat spark can be coaxed into de flame of righteousness. The Cult of Ecstasy, let’s just say Niko’s sort of fond o dem, dey sensual, chér. Dey be sensory oriented, music, dance and de sex creates magic powerful magic. And dey push past de boundaries an’ comfort zones of de average homme, seeking de ultimate experience. Dreamspeakers walk b’tween de physical an’ spirit worlds, an’ open de way for humans ta experience de power o’ dream and soul.”

Nikolas paused for a moment before going on, “The Order of Hermes, de most organized an’ methodical: spell-weavers, alchemists an’ lore-keepers, commanding de primal elements. Dat was de Tradition nana Fémali followed, Niko, aussi. The Sons of Ether take de cast-offs an’ strange fringes o’ science, an’ breathe life into bizarre theories an’ inventions; dey mutate old, dead sciences into vibrant new forms, an’ push technology into de realm of fantasy. Dey be close ta Virtual Adepts, the most modern Tradition. Virtual Adepts skate ‘long de cutting edge o’ technol’gy wit computer science an’ de interconnected Web; manipulating information an’ altering data, command any program an’ crack any code, even de cryptic mysteries o’ de universe itself.”

The vampire’s mercurial eyes went hard, his hair seethed, sending sparks into the air around his head. His tone was flat when he spoke again. “De darker Traditions’ consist of Euthanatos; depthless souls who center on de suffering o’ man-kind. And de Verbena practice blood magic.” The silver eyes glimmered red for a moment and the air around Nikolas rippled once, making Devon wonder if he had really seen it. “And then dere be the ‘Orphans, Hollow Ones an’ Disparates’ who be outside de Traditions; mages who have no tie ta de Traditions' heritage. Some fight ta preserve magic, some ta promote their own ways, de rest, just ta survive. As an unwritten rule a mage only follows one tradition, pretty much predetermined by ‘affinity’ an’ ‘potential’. The average Mage will study and train most of his life an’ never reach Ascension, it’s hard enough to reach Adept.”

There was more, Nikolas spoke of the years spent with Lorenzo, in Russia, Italy, and Romania. He told Devon of Jared, the mage sent to rescue him from Lorenzo before his Sire could turn him completely down the path of Darkness. It tore Devon up inside to feel the grief pouring from his vampire as he spoke of his love and how Jared had been lost. Nikolas told him about the vow of revenge he’d sworn the day he was stolen from all he knew; of Lorenzo’s designs to control the Nine Traditions and vampires across the world, through Nikolas. That was the reason the Circle of Nine had sent Jared after him. They escaped, but Lorenzo had come after them. He Sired another vampire-mage, Norman, who was a Verbena-Adept. They had captured Jared during one of their *interactions*. Nikolas was forced into his fourth Ascension – Verbena – and in blood-lust to rival Akasha’s he had gone after his Sire and brother; after his lover. Nikolas broke down and cried when he told Devon how Jared had been tortured – nailed to a wooden cross-beam. How Norman had practiced his powerful dark arts on the young mage, turned him, bound and steeped in blood-magic. Blood-tears streamed from his almond shaped eyes as he remembered how he had been forced to kill Jared with his own hands when his lover had entered the arcane duel between Norman and himself. Devon held Nikolas while he wept, telling Devon in broken gasps how Jared’s love had fought through the blood-magic wrapped around his soul, for one brief moment, and begged Nikolas to set him free – to kill him. Norman had been destroyed. Lorenzo had escaped.

Lorenzo wasn’t a mage, but he had power, dark, mage-like energies, making him harder to kill. Lorenzo had destroyed everything Nikolas loved or held dear; except Devon and that was only because he hadn’t known of the boy’s existence. That was why Nikolas had not come home, but gone back to Westchester. When Lorenzo discovered Devon, he would come after him. If Lorenzo *got* Devon, then Nikolas was lost. Devon was his, destined to be his immortal mate and consort, and if he lost Devon to Lorenzo, his Sire would use Devon in ways worse than he had ever contrived with Nikolas. Punishment to both of them, Lorenzo would eventually turn Devon and turn him against Nikolas just as he had done with Jared. If that happened Devon would become his equal and his enemy. They would end by destroying each other.

He wanted Devon safe. As a mortal, Devon was vulnerable. As a vampire-healer-mage, he would have some means of protection when Lorenzo came after him.

“When?” Devon had asked, already knowing the answer.

“Oui, chér, *when*.”

It was a given that Lorenzo would come after him, more so now than ever. Nikolas wanted to turn Devon now, for his own protection. The vampire wanted him safe; he wanted Devon by his side now. Yet he was torn, the choice was Devon’s, and it wasn’t.

“I will not lose you to him, Devon. The choice is yours until it becomes necessary for me to make it... and I will. With no hesitation, if it means that I have to turn you against your will in order to keep you...” Devon did not answer, he couldn’t. Not yet, so he just held his vampire and silently cried for him.

*****