Part 2
The fiery pain that Nick last remembered throbbing steadily in his chest was a minor annoyance compared to the steady, burning ache that now consumed his entire body. The compulsion to feed hammered against his will, forcing him to stir. However, the strength needed to rise was absent, having earlier drained from his body onto the alley floor in a large, red puddle.
"Good. You've awakened," purred a mesmerizing, deep voice from the shadows.
The wounded vampire snarled at the sudden intrusion, his inner demon surging forth in defense of his depleted condition. The red haze overlaying his vision detected the body approaching while his senses sang in anticipation of the approaching blood: familial blood.
"Where am I?" The resonance of his voice loudly declared just how close to the surface his beast really was. Nick let his head drop back to the mattress, fatigue pulling at him almost as strongly as the hunger. He clamped down on his instincts, though he couldn't prevent the growl that reverberated from him, as he demanded, "Why...?"
"Why what, Nicholas? Why rescue you? I would think the answer to that is obvious," LaCroix replied as he settled onto the edge of the bed. He felt a delicious thrill course through him at the sight and scent of his son. Leaning closer, he whispered, "You didn't expect me to leave you in that alley, did you?"
"As to your other question," the elder vampire continued, leaning back to gaze upon his son's face, "You're in my home, or to be precise, my bedroom. It was closer than your loft...not to mention better stocked."
Watching his child absorb the information presented, LaCroix took a quiet breath, savoring the scent that was permeating the room. The aroma of his favorite's blood, which covered a large portion of Nick's clothing, was a terrible tease to LaCroix, nearly triggering the elder vampire's fangs to extend. He allowed a small smile to emerge as a delightfully wicked idea blossomed.
* Snick. *
The noise startled Nick. "What are you doing, LaCroix?" Nick inquired warily as he struggled up on one elbow. The last time he had heard that sound, he had ended up with a blade buried in his chest.
"I'm going to remove your clothes, Nicholas," LaCroix evenly replied, an aura of anticipation briefly skimming across the psychic link connecting master and prot�g� before the sensation was cut off. At the flare of indignant outrage flooding back from Nicholas, the elder man controlled the urge to smirk at his son's discomfort. "How do you expect me to check your wounds and clean you up, if you're still clothed? Really, Nicholas." This situation was proving to be great fun.
"I expect you to let me care for myself, LaCroix," Nick snarled, his fangs flashing as he snapped his reply. His temper flared as his body's demands continued to press against his reason. "I'm not a child!"
"Then stop acting like one," LaCroix growled back, allowing rein to a small flash of anger in return. "After all..." he continued, his wicked sense of humor rising, "Is there something there," he waved generally toward Nick's torso, "that I haven't seen before?"
A weak laugh spontaneously bubbled out of Nick at this question, breaking the aggressive mood that had been building between the two men. "I can't believe you just said that," he faintly stated and took a staggered, rough breath.
"Lie back, Nicholas." That smooth, deep voice quietly commanded him, filling him with conflicting desires. Nick wanted to resist, but his depleted, damaged body wouldn't co-operate. With little energy available to argue with, the blond vampire settled back against the bed and waited. A brief surge of anxiety flooded him when he saw the glint of the blade angling toward his throat, but it quickly passed. He finally acknowledged to his surprise, that LaCroix wouldn't do him any permanent damage.
Nick closed his eyes and lay perfectly still. He felt a slight tug then a soft ping sounded as the top button of his shirt rolled loose and hit the floor. The blade lightly caressed his skin as his master slowly maneuvered it down his chest until all the buttons were removed from the torn, maroon shirt.
He felt a knot of desire welling up within him. The movement of the knife across his chest was both infuriating and sensual. Nick held his breath in uneasy expectation when LaCroix laid the knife down and reached under him, pulling his shirttail loose. The stimulating sensations swelling within him in anticipation of LaCroix's next move competed with the pain that coursed through him each time he shifted. Nick focused on controlling his rising lust. < As if the hunger wasn't bad enough: add the lust and I'm lost. >
LaCroix gently spread the silk open, revealing the broad, muscular chest of his child. The two puncture wounds Nicholas had suffered were still visible, though slowly healing. His skin was speckled and streaked with droplets of blood.
"*Cow* won't easily heal a wound this serious," LaCroix softly voiced, carefully checking the injury. He glanced up to briefly gaze at Nicholas' handsome face.
"It'll have to do..." Nick rumbled in reply, his tone of voice hinting at his opinion of the rancid fluid he usually consumed.
"No, it doesn't," LaCroix insisted, interrupting. He was aware of the hungry, intense stare Nicholas was training on him.
Returning his attention to the pale chest before him, the elder vampire lightly ran his right hand across Nick's breast; his fingertips delicately brushing against one nipple as they crossed the blood splattered skin. Nicholas took a quick breath in response to the gentle, amorous touch, then grimaced as his movement stressed his injury.
Bringing his fingers up to his mouth, LaCroix inhaled deeply before he sucked each finger clean. His eyes closed in ecstasy when his son's blood hit his tongue. The taste sent waves of wanton desire exploding through him. Expecting a growl of annoyance from Nicholas at his actions, the ancient opened his eyes in surprise when he heard a soft groan of pleasure escape from the body next to him.
His desire rising, LaCroix bent down and began to carefully lick the splatters of blood off Nick's body. He 'accidentally' grazed both nipples before moving his talented mouth toward the hollow of his son's neck.
Nicholas weakly pushed against his master's chest with his hands. "Don't. Please, LaCroix," Nick entreated. He wasn't ready to give into the desires his body was demanding of him -- or to supply the reactions that LaCroix wanted. There had to be another way.
Suddenly, his wrists were seized in a tight grip and pinned on either side of his head. Grimacing, Nick shut his eyes, trying to master the waves of pain that burned through his chest at the sudden movement. He felt LaCroix slowly lean over him, until their lips almost brushed. "Do you have the strength...the will... or the desire to thwart me, Nicholas?" the elder vampire whispered seductively.
His master's scent was maddening, causing all thought to cease as his hunger and lust flared wildly out of control. "No, no," Nick moaned, his voice subdued as he valiantly struggled with himself.
LaCroix leaned closer and lightly ran his tongue against his son's lips before gently trailing the caress across the strong jaw to his throat. "Do you really *know* what you want, Nicholas?" he murmured, teasing his child with light oral touches along the side of his face and neck. Kissing and nibbling his way back to Nicholas' mouth, he almost smiled when his son threw himself into the kiss, his ardor stretching their link wide open.
The HUNGER was devouring all rational thought as the two vampires, so intricately bound together, separated from their kiss. LaCroix knew an escalating firestorm was screaming through Nicholas; he was unprepared when it abruptly surged across their unfettered link. The savage, ravenous fire of Nicholas' appetites speared through him, stoking an answering inferno. A deep, resonant growl filled the room as the blaze of passion consumed them, hurling father and son back together in a voracious, violent kiss.
LaCroix' insatiable appetite for this particular child struggled for expression as the taste and scent of his favorite filled him. He felt a trembling hand graze his throat, then a slight pull on his shirt as Nicholas opened his collar, exposing his pale skin to his son's eager touch.
Soft lips demanding attention drew LaCroix deeper into the kiss; tongues wrestled for dominance as both spiraled deeper into passion. However, old habits asserted themselves as ancient disciplines rose, bringing the elder vampire into control. With a soft groan of unfulfilled desire, he broke free of the kiss, forcing his body under some pretense of restraint.
"No!" Nicholas snarled, straining against LaCroix's iron grip, needing more.
"Shhh, be calm, my amorous son. We will both obtain that which we desire...presently." He continued to whisper soothing sounds, waiting for the younger man to regain a measure of control. When Nicholas had quieted, LaCroix released his hold on his son's wrists and sat back on the bed. He let his right hand lightly trail down the younger man's body, until it closed on his child's hip, loath to lose physical contact.
Running on pure instinct, Nick seductively curled against his sire's leg, as graceful and deadly as a jungle cat. Though fatigue pulled heavily upon him, the need to taste, to possess, to feed drove him on. He raised a shaky hand to lightly stroke against the silk covering LaCroix's chest, teasing his master as he brushed the smooth material against his sire's skin. "LaCroix..." Nick purred, his voice low and sultry.
LaCroix slid his hand along Nick's ribcage, delighting in the dual feelings of his favorite's skin flowing smoothly under his fingers as the open silk shirt brushed against the back of his hand. The smell, the presence of his son was proving to be a delicious tease, provoking centuries old desires to rise in the old vampire, along with a tantalizing longing to plunge into the fiery heat cascading from Nicholas. The elder mentally touched their link, sampling a portion of the torrent that was coursing between them. The overpowering need, the fervor waiting there was addictive. With a heartfelt sigh, LaCroix reined in his lust -- for the present. Nick's depleted condition must be dealt with before any other hunger could be satisfied.
LaCroix reached down and gently stroked the tense, handsome face. Trailing his fingers across the familiar features, he firmly grasped his son's chin, demanding his attention.
Nick froze, his attention wrenched away from the demands of his body to center on LaCroix.
"You need to feed."
"I need what *you* can provide, LaCroix." Twin orbs of ethereal fire fastened onto the strong visage, striving to draw the ancient into his predacious desire.
A slow smile crossed LaCroix's face. "I want this encounter to last, Nicholas. That means you need to feed." His expression darkened when he glanced at the nearby bottle sitting on the bedside table. He had planned to bring several fresh bottles up from the cellar, but Nicholas had awakened sooner than he'd expected. Reaching for the bottle, he scowled at its lightness. The half bottle of blood would barely give his child the energy to rise -- anything more strenuous would be impossible. He would have to retrieve more sustenance for them both.
Pulling his son upright, LaCroix helped Nick to lean against the bed's headboard. "I want you to drink this while I retrieve more. Do you understand, Nicholas?" LaCroix grasped his child's chin again, trying to recapture his attention. Nick pulled his hungry gaze from his master's throat to the clear blue of his eyes. "Did you hear me, Nicholas?"
"Yes, I heard. You want me to drink." Nick's gaze returned to the long line of the elder man's neck.
LaCroix released Nicholas, leaned down for another kiss, and found himself wrapped once more in a tempest of emotion. Nick wrapped his arms around LaCroix' neck, trying to pull him closer. The two men deepened the kiss, with Nick thrusting his open mouth harder onto LaCroix'. The scent of his father filled him until he was surrounded -- embraced by it. With a deep growl, he pulled LaCroix's lower lip into his mouth and bit down, piercing the flesh with a sharp fang. The rich, overpowering blood dripped into his mouth until LaCroix jerked back, growling in turn.
"Demon child!" LaCroix exclaimed, his pleasure at Nicholas's actions expressed in his voice. Running his tongue across the swiftly healing bite, he licked the remains of his blood from his lips. "Finish this, mon prot�g� impassionne'," he declared, thrusting the green bottle into Nick's hands. Rising, he swiftly left the room. The sooner he accomplished his task, the sooner he would sample the delights that only Nicholas could provide.
Nick sagged against the headboard once LaCroix had left, tired and hungry. The erotic surge that had sustained him moments before dampened as a swift, intense pain lanced through his stomach, prodding him to feed. Raising the bottle to drink, he briefly licked his lips only to have the tang of LaCroix' blood bursting across his tongue. His hunger rose sharply with the taste and he quickly drained the bottle, missing most of the fleeting impressions that permeated the mortal elixir. The small
spattering of human blood mixed with the mouthful he had taken from LaCroix, flooded his senses with a heady euphoria, supplying his body with enough energy to move, to actively seek out more of the life giving fluid.
He had to have more. He had to have it now!
The dark hallway seemed to go on indefinitely before it opened onto a graceful staircase. Heading downstairs, Nicholas continued to move from shadow to shadow, pausing to rest when he tired, silently stalking through the house as he following his instincts in his quest for more of the sanguineous ambrosia he had consumed earlier.
Nick slipped through the front foyer, flinching away from the large living room. He could sense the deadly sun as it struck against that side of the residence, though the room was tightly shielded against the day. Following his senses, he plunged deeper into the bowels of the house.
The blond vampire stopped at a junction near the rear of LaCroix' home. Two closed doors led off to the right: to his left, an open doorway led down to the basement while an open archway faced him. As Nick raised his head to scent the air, his eye color swept from gold to crimson and he bared his fangs in a silent snarl. Two tantalizing odors had reached him -- one coming from somewhere ahead and the other from the basement. Both were tempting; both caused the beast within to roar to the fore. Any restraining thoughts were quickly washed away as his hunger seized total control over his actions, turning him into a willing, competent predator. *************
The small-framed man slipped through the back door and turned to drag the box of supplies into the silent kitchen. He was running late! He should have finished with these chores and been on the road hours ago. "Mister L. would have a cow if he knew," Sammy grumbled.
The young man had originally been hired by CERK to do errands for the Nightcrawler. When the elder vampire had discovered just how trustworthy and closed mouth Sammy could be, LaCroix hired him full time.
Sammy hurried back through the door, reappearing a few minutes later with a large handful of laundered clothes. He slammed the door closed with his foot, shutting out the brilliant patch of mid-morning sunlight. Laying the wrapped clothing across the large island in the middle of the room, Sammy turned and picked up the heavy box. "I don't know what's in this thing, but it weighs a ton," he panted as he staggered across the kitchen and into the pantry. *****************
LaCroix turned away from the extensive wine rack and settled the last bottle into a crate sitting on the floor. << Some of my best vintage... I hope he appreciates them. >> LaCroix silently considered. Hopefully, the bottles would compose the first of many pleasurable courses to be consumed through the day.
A sense of something: a slight sound or the tease of a scent caused LaCroix to straighten to his full height. Something was not right! He felt a brief flash of erotic delight from Nicholas. The elder vampire concentrated on the link connecting him to his wayward child, allowing the impressions streaming through the unusually wide-open link to fill him. Violent, hungry waves scalded across his nerves as his protege's ravenous needs washed through him. His son was stalking someone. In fact, he was about to make a kill! Brows furrowed in frustrated worry, the elder began to turn toward the open door of the basement when 180 pounds of starving vampire collided against him. Long, deadly white fangs dove for his throat as a deep-timbred growl rumbled from Nicholas's chest.
Crimson fire flooded him as his fangs sank into his prey. //Hungry! // Nick felt strong hands grasp him. He dug his fangs in deeper, fearful of losing contact. After a couple of mouthfuls, he felt his fangs ripping through flesh as he was pushed away. Nick began to struggle wildly, his lips pulled back to reveal a bloody visage as his rage filled snarls echoed in the room.
A dark green bottle was forced against his lips and the vibrant human blood poured out, splashing across his face and into his mouth. He desperately reached for the bottle, both hands locking around the cool glass. Crimson eyes drooped in euphoric rapture as he began to fervently feed. The hungry young vampire hardly noticed when two strong hands pulled him against a firm, tall form. Arms securely cradled him as he sank into his feeding.
Several glutinous gulps emptied the first bottle, only to have it quickly replaced with another. That one also was rapidly devoured only to have a third appear.
The sensations and images that filled him when the blood splashed across his tongue rushed by incoherently, so great was his need. With the third bottle, his drinking slowed, allowing him to filter a few sensations from the life-giving fluid. An orchestra playing, the ocean lapping against skin, and shiny, raven black, shoulder length hair blown back from a petite oval face briefly flashed through his mind before the bottle was wrenched away from his grasp.
"No! Give it back," Nick growled, hunger making the vampire more vicious and dangerous than was usual.
"That's enough for now," LaCroix's smooth, sultry voice soothed, while he set the bottle back in the crate. "There are additional ways to satisfy your hunger, Nicholas, other than from a bottle."
That seductive voice wound its way through him, touching answering chords of wanton desire that could finally be acknowledged now that his ravenous hunger had been dulled.
Nick pulled his father closer, desperately wanting to feel hands stroking against his skin. A whispering voice began murmuring in his mind, telling him to slow down, to think about what he was doing, but he savagely crushed it. He wanted this! He needed this!
Nick moaned hoarsely when one strong hand grasped his right shoulder, holding him still. He could feel LaCroix' other hand under his shirt, moving slowly, tantalizingly across his ribs. Fingertips ghosted lightly up and down his back, sending a lightning charge of hedonic impulses rushing through his body. The tactual sensations flooded his mind, filled an unrestrained yearning for physical contact that he had ruthlessly suppressed during this latest attempt to obtain a cure.
He smiled slyly at his master, letting the stimulating sensations surge through him. Locking his amber flecked blue eyes to LaCroix' glacier gaze, Nick raised his hands to his lover's shirt and violently ripped it open. A glimmer of a smile crossed the elder's face when he heard the soft ping of buttons hitting the floor.
"Turn about is fair play," Nick teased, his voice low and rough with desire. "After all, you've already helped me with my shirt."
"True. Do you need any more help, Nicholas?"
Nick stepped closer, straddling his maker's leg, making sure the swelling hardness evident in his jeans rubbed seductively against his sire's thigh. "What do you think, LaCroix?" His sly smile grew when an answering hardness grazed against his leg.
Nick gasped suddenly; his eyes closing in ecstasy when he felt the hand that had been coursing across his back dip lower and firmly grasp his ass. LaCroix' other hand slowly stroked down his chest, stopping for a moment to tease one nipple into an aching mound before continuing onward. With a calculated pull, Nick felt his belt jerked loose from the buckle.
LaCroix leaned closer to Nick's face and purred, "I think we need to go back upstairs. Fucking on cold stone floors went out several centuries ago."
The answering growl was all the acquiescence needed. Sweeping the crate of bottles up under one arm, LaCroix wrapped his other arm around his life's love and sped upstairs.
All comments can be sent to me, April, at: [email protected] or [email protected]