follows the events in the episode Sons of Belial. It was originally
published in the 1999 charity fanzine The Unnamed Faction Pillow Book.
typed the last few words of his report and popped the enter
button, glad to finally be done with the paperwork from the case he
and Tracy had finished a few days previously. As he saved the file,
the noise level in the precinct intensified and the words on the screen
darkened and swam in front of his face. He tensed.
It was happening again.
"I don't know, he just rubs me the wrong way. Do you guys
I'm crazy?" Tracy asked as she straightened the top of her desk.
He noticed her throat as she swallowed; the skin was pale and
beautiful. Nick leaned forward on his elbows and looked at his
partner, trying to force himself to concentrate on what she'd just
said. He slowly shook his head and settled for staring at a file on
top of his desk. Fears and questions raced through his mind.
These spells of heightened need had been hitting him for the
three weeks, coming faster and harder each time. It had only been a
few hours since the last time this dizzying bloodlust had hit him.
Four-and-a-half hours the time before that. How soon before he'd
be walking around in a constant state of desperation?
"No, you're not crazy," Natalie said. She perched herself on a
corner of Nick's desk and gave him a curious look. "Maybe he's just
not the guy for you." Natalie turned to Tracy and shrugged. "Nothing
wrong with that."
Nick ground his teeth together and closed his eyes. As Nat and
Tracy chatted away, he tried to follow the conversation to distract
himself from the boiling sensation building in his gut, but their
became nothing more than a high-pitched buzz. The only thing he
heard clearly was the beating of both their hearts. He willed them to
go talk somewhere else, anywhere else, away from him.
Natalie was the closest, and her heartbeat literally pounded
his body. Tracy's pulse echoed hers, its volume only slightly less
intense. Despite his efforts to shut it all out, in a matter of seconds
he was acutely aware of the heartbeat of everyone in the area, and he
felt as if he were about to lose his mind.
"Nick? You OK?" Natalie looked at him, concern clear on her
"No offense, Nick," Tracy said, "but you don't look so good."
"I . . . I'm okay." Nick looked first at Natalie, then Tracy.
fingered the file on his desk and tried to smile as the two women
studied him. Feeling like a bug under glass, he said, "I'm fine.
Really." Nick stared intently at the back of his hand. Please stop,
go away, leave me alone.
"Tracy?" Joe Reese called as he walked out of his office. "You
have the Sanchez report?"
"Yeah, Cap." She rifled through a stack of papers she'd just
straightened. "It's right here, somewhere."
Nick felt a tiny breeze as the Captain walked by, but he
up. Another thundering heartbeat to contend with.
"Owwow," Tracy said, shaking her hand, then sucking the tip of
index finger into her mouth. She handed the report to Reese with
her free hand, rummaged through her top drawer, and pulled out a
small elastic bandage. "Papeh cud."
Nick's mouth opened. The moment her blood hit the air the
it wound around his insides, rippling his body with the urge to feed.
He slowly placed his hands on top of his desk, fingers splayed, and
exerted as much pressure as was safe, trying to somehow physically
hold himself in place. Biting his tongue, he swallowed, fighting the
urge to lunge across their desks and take Tracy's finger into his
mouth. To take Tracy's neck--
"Nick!" Natalie yelped as she placed a hand on his forehead,
surreptitiously covering his eyes at the same time. "You really don't
look good at all." The nervousness in her voice jangled Nick's
already frayed nerves.
Nick closed his eyes as he turned his head away from the heat
Natalie's hand. He forced the golden tinge to disappear, and when
he opened his eyes they were their usual blue. They focused on
"Nick?" Natalie leaned in, her voice tight. "I think you're
down with something. Don't you?"
"I . . . I . . ." Imperceptible to humans, the lightly
pulse-point on the side of her neck mesmerized him. She was too
close. Her heartbeat, her blood, her heat were drowning him. As he
licked his lips, he felt her hand shake his shoulder.
"Nick," Natalie whispered, lightly shaking him again, this
drawing his attention to her eyes.
"Maybe you're coming down with that nasty bug that went
here a few weeks ago," Tracy said. "Almost everybody got sick. Maybe
it's finally caught up with you."
Natalie gave him a knowing look, her hand still on his
"She's right, Nick," Reese said, as he turned to head back to
office. "You look like hell." When he reached the doorway he
called back, "It's slow around here. Why don't you book off sick,
and take another day or two if you need it. We'll call you if we need
Nick looked at his Captain and after a brief pause, he nodded.
"Maybe you're right."
"Now I know you think--" Reese stopped, a look of shock on his
face. He raised his eyebrows, and put one fist on his hip. "Okay. All
right, then." He blinked twice, nodded and closed the door.
Nick squeezed his eyes shut, trying desperately to block out
sound of their heartbeats, the smell of blood, the warm hand on his
shoulder. The lovely, cherished neck within striking distance.
He had to get out of there.
He snapped his eyes open, then forced a slight smile as he
"You know, if you're really coming down with something . . .
don't you let me drive you?" Tracy said, as she moved to rise from
"No, no. Thanks. I'll be fine." He nodded at her and Natalie,
started for the door.
"Okay, if you're sure. Feel better," Tracy called after him.
Natalie caught up with Nick before he reached the exit.
to the side, she spoke in a whisper. "Nick, talk to me. What's going
on? You've been more and more distracted since that night at
Vanderwal's, and now your eyes." She shook her head. "Tell me--"
"Nat!" Startling himself with his angry tone, Nick looked
and lowered his voice. "I told you. I haven't craved human blood
this way in a long time. It's just, it's getting to me, that's all."
she have to stand that close to him?
"Tell me what to do, how I can help you." Natalie's eyes
with him to let her in.
"There's nothing you can do." Nick immediately regretted the
sound of his words,
especially the unintended emphasis on 'you,' when he saw pain flash
across Natalie's face. "Time, Nat. I just need time." He squeezed her
warm hand and forced a smile before he
Nick drove too fast, paying too little attention to the road.
moment he flicked on the radio he realized that it wasn't the right
time for LaCroix' show and he flicked it off again without hearing
more than a burst of sound.
The frustration of spending time among mortals after his
with the demon was proving to be too much.
He had to get home, away from the lure of human blood. He'd
lucky until now; these bouts of severe need and hunger had hit while
he was alone and hadn't lasted nearly this long. This time, his need
was exacerbated by the presence of humans, the very availability of
blood. Even isolated in his car he was much too aware of the
heartbeats of the other motorists and the blood coursing through
He looked up just in time to see the light. Cursing himself
paying attention, he managed to stop reasonably close to the white
line. A lone figure standing on the sidewalk jerked around to see the
source of the squeal before turning back toward the building.
Her rapid heartbeat stood out, a high staccato above the
tympani of the drivers'. She was a tall girl, probably homeless,
maybe a runaway, standing under the awning of the corner building. Her
back was to Nick, and she seemed to be looking at something
through the storefront's window.
Her thin, tan jacket whipped in the breeze. She wasn't dressed
nearly warm enough for the crisp November night, but probably had
nothing warmer. Probably had nothing but what was on her back.
So many runaways ended up thieves or prostitutes, either for
or dope. Their lives were wasted away, spent searching for the next
scrap of food or the next fix. Maybe she had no family, no one to
wonder or care why she was on the street so late at night, alone. As
her jacket billowed, whipped by another gust of wind, Nick flipped
the heater switch, thinking she might appreciate a warm ride to
wherever she must be going. To where no one probably waited, and
no one would miss her if she never arrived.
He watched her back as she peered through the window. She may
be planning to steal whatever it was she was looking at, adrenaline
causing her fast heartbeat. She was probably a thief. Maybe worse. She
may lead a horrible, desolate life. Might eventually die a
horrible, slow death.
But he'd be gentle, wouldn't hurt her, wouldn't frighten her.
strike quickly and cause as little pain as possible.
He'd sacrificed for so long, hadn't he? No human could
the lure of what he'd so long ago given up. But now he needed it,
needed her, so bad. Just this once.
As he stared at her, the fantasy played out in his mind with
reality. He could feel her warm flesh under his hands, her lean neck
against his lips. The hot blood spilling down his throat was sweet
and young. She gasped and shuddered in his embrace as his pull
deepened. Nick moaned as he felt her long body go limp in his arms;
he sobbed, nearly choking, as he drained the last drops of her life
The woman looked down the street behind Nick, frowning, then
turned toward the Cadillac.
"No!" Nick pounded the steering wheel with his fists and tore
glowing eyes from the woman. The light blinked from yellow to red
as he became aware of the angry honking behind him. Speeding
through the red light, he barely cleared a little yellow hatchback he'd
forced to a screeching stop in the middle of the intersection.
"No, no, no, no, no, no . . . ."
Nick jerked the car into the first opening he saw and stomped
brake. The driver who'd been behind him at the light laid on his horn
as he passed the alleyway, leaving its echo ringing between the
buildings. The rearview mirror reflected a pair of molten eyes he
He'd never make it home this way, there were too many
too many easy marks on the street. And even if he did get there
without ripping out someone's throat, what would he do? Tease
himself with the flat taste of cow blood while his body screamed for
something else, only to have this bloodlust flare again in a matter of
hours, or sooner? He was afraid that next time it struck, he'd lose
control and kill for it. Like he just almost had.
He needed human blood that wouldn't cost him any more of his
than he'd already bartered away.
Nick hopped out of the Caddy as if the seat were on fire. As
slammed the door he looked around to be sure he was alone and
found that, mercifully, no one could see him. Looking up, he
thought flight and was instantly speeding through the Toronto sky
toward the Raven.
Nicholas landed in an empty side-street next to the club, the
blood reaching him before he was even near the doors. He inhaled
the sweet, coppery smell; the unique tang made his mouth ache for
it. As he maneuvered himself across the dance floor, he thought
every writhing body in the building somehow managed to rub up
against him. A few of the women, human and vampire alike, tried to
drape their arms around his neck and he impatiently threw them off,
ignoring the curses that followed. The heartbeats of the mortal
club-goers, mixed with the too-loud, thrumming music, tempted him
to throw his hands over his ears. What if this were a mistake? So
many mortals in the club tonight, so much blood . . . .
His need almost unbearable, he stalked up to the bar and
against it for support.
"Ah, Nicho--" Miklos' smile disappeared as he focused on
face. For a few seconds he said nothing as he examined his latest
customer. Finally, he motioned toward a glass. "The usual?"
"No." The word came out low and harsh. Miklos kept bovine
in stock for Nicholas' infrequent visits, but cow blood hadn't eased
his escalating craving in the last few weeks, and at this point it
would be as sensible as giving a starving man a rubber steak.
Miklos raised an eyebrow and stared at LaCroix' son. When
Nicholas didn't waver, he shrugged and produced a bottle. Nick
tried to breathe slowly and calmly while the bartender poured the
one thing he thought might stop him from going insane. Nick took
the full goblet, threw his head back, and downed the contents in one
Not enough. Instead of soothing the burn, this first, thick
stoked the fire. As he shoved the empty glass toward Miklos, the
stem cracked in his shaking hand.
"Nick, maybe you should--" Miklos was cut off as Nick lunged
swiped the bottle out of his hand. Before Nick had raised it to his
lips, Miklos grabbed his arm and lowered his voice. "You seem to
have something in your eye, my friend." Miklos' lips curved but he
Understanding, Nick willed his eyes back to blue and felt
through him as it dawned on him how many times his eyes had
changed tonight with his barely noticing. He fought to keep the
beast at bay but he couldn't purge all of the gold from his eyes. After
what seemed like minutes of internal struggle, Nick finally had
the vampire marginally under control, at least enough to fool the
mortals in the club.
"Maybe you should enjoy your drink in the back, eh?"
Nick held the bottle tight to his chest. Somewhere in the back
mind he realized that Miklos had held on to him and waited patiently
while he regained his composure. Nick wanted to thank him, but he
didn't trust his voice. He simply nodded and dashed toward the back
of the club.
LaCroix, who had been watching the entire exchange from a
distance, approached the bar and grimly eyed the broken glass. He
looked at Miklos and raised his eyebrows.
"I don't know, LaCroix." Miklos dropped the ruined glass into
trash and wiped at the bar with a fresh rag. "He's not drinking his
usual." The vampires exchanged a look. "And he's very thirsty."
"Really? Then I'd best take him an adequate supply." He took
the two bottles Miklos
produced from behind the bar and, smiling, headed for the back rooms of
As LaCroix stepped into one of his private rooms, Nick spun,
growling, ready to pounce. His eyes were more red than gold, and a
thick line of blood ran from each corner of his mouth. Only one
small lamp burned in the corner, its dim halo not quite reaching the
far side of the room. An empty bottle lay on the floor.
LaCroix held out one of the replacements he'd brought and Nick
grabbed at it, nearly knocking it from his benefactor's hand. He tore
out the cork with his teeth, spat it away, and gulped down the rich,
sustaining, human blood.
LaCroix sauntered across the room and casually seated himself
the edge of his bed, waiting for Nicholas to sate his thirst. He
watched as his son tossed the empty bottle to the side where it
clinked against the wall and rained bits of glass onto the carpet. As
Nick snarled and lunged for the last bottle, LaCroix calmly pulled it
out of his reach.
"Tsk, tsk, tsk, Nicholas. Mes-sy." He regarded the broken
the floor, then looked at Nicholas.
The elder vampire stood, and slowly offered the bottle to his
impatient son. Nick yanked it from LaCroix' grasp
and downed over half its contents before he stopped. Wiping at his
mouth with the back of his hand, he looked at the tall, black-clad
figure in front of him and immediately regretted his decision to come
LaCroix was enjoying this.
Nick had seen this smile, this expression, so many times.
usually blue eyes seemed tinged with smoke as they regarded him
from beneath heavy lids. The vampire's tongue appeared and slid
over his full bottom lip. His smile looked slightly dangerous,
completely sensuous, and totally smug. But most of all, it looked
That simmering smile planted a matching hunger in Nicholas, a
desire to devour the mouth before him and to feel his rattled nerves
explode against LaCroix' smooth flesh. He wanted to drink the
heady blood that had once formed his being, to revel in its healing
essence and its ancient power. Nicholas fought against that desire,
but like the need for human blood just moments ago, he was
defeated before he began.
Nick tried to slow his breathing, tried to calm the
in his every movement that LaCroix had, no doubt, already noticed.
"Better?" LaCroix asked, sounding amused yet genuinely
Nick nodded his head, sucking in air through his flared
nostrils. "Mm hmph." He wanted nothing more than to run away and hide.
It was bad enough that LaCroix had seen him weak and helpless
with his need for blood, but for LaCroix to know that Nick's sexual
need for him was twisting his insides . . . .
LaCroix shook his head, his smile disappearing. "I've warned
about such things, Nicholas, time and time again. I suppose this little
occurrence is the result of starving yourself?"
Nick's eyes were drawn to the perfect, milky column of his
When Nick didn't respond, LaCroix sighed and continued. "You
were not meant to survive on cow's blood. You are not a carouche,
after all. They don't, they can't, appreciate blood the way we do."
As LaCroix spoke more rapidly, his neck muscles moving in
a surge of excitement rippled through Nicholas.
"Part of the feeding is feeling the life in the blood. Through
blood. The person's passions and loves, talents, desires, dreams,
fears, even despair. The sensations are more intense when you drink
directly from the person, much more so than from the bottled
variety, but they are still there." A righteous anger built behind
LaCroix' eyes. "Knowing this, how can you expect to get any kind
of fulfillment by drinking from a cow?"
Nick had stopped listening and was now intrigued by the very
flush that crept up LaCroix' neck and face. His master grew more
animated by the second.
"What is it that you feel while drinking bovine, after all?
Brown pulling at your teats while you graze and fill the air with
methane gas?" LaCroix laughed humorlessly. "Oh Nicholas, it's no
wonder you're at a breaking point. There's so much more to feeding
than just not being hungry. It's the total exp--"
Nick threw himself into LaCroix, wrapping one hand around the
back of his father's neck and circling a frantic arm around his waist.
Impacting with the wall, LaCroix grunted, then cried out as his head
was snapped to the side and Nicholas struck, viper-quick. His son
sucked greedily, muffled sounds escaping from his throat between
LaCroix' blood filled Nicholas, its intoxicating richness and
quickening his body and his mind. The thick liquid coursed through
his veins, lighting every nerve on its path, warming every spot of
flesh. His skin tingled and pulsed as his deprived body demanded its
Nick heard LaCroix' sharp intake of breath as he released his
and roughly cupped the pinned vampire's hardening crotch. He
slowed his drinking, finally only lapping at the dark wounds, as he
rubbed and pulled at the bulge in LaCroix' pants, grinding his own
stiffness against his master's hip.
Nick licked up the length of LaCroix' neck and circled behind
before he nibbled and sucked at the earlobe. He felt LaCroix
pressing his restrained erection forward, even harder, against his
hand. As his heavy breaths puffed into LaCroix' ear, he was
rewarded with his master's low growl of approval.
"Ah yes, Nicho--"
Nicholas cut him off, covering LaCroix' mouth with his own,
sucking at his master's lips and tongue, all gentleness cast aside. His
need was raw and electric, orchestrating every move and sensation. He
felt LaCroix' tongue twist back with equal force and a surge of
pleasure jumped down his spine, driving his passion higher. He
bathed LaCroix' chin and jaw, and suckled the front of his master's
"Oui, mon fils."
Nick froze at the words, the realization of what he was doing,
why, extinguishing his fire. He lurched backwards away from
LaCroix, half-sobbing, shaking his head in shock and horror.
"No! What am I doing? I'm sorry, something's wrong."
LaCroix looked as shocked as Nicholas felt. He swallowed and
straightened himself, the frustration apparent on his face. "Wrong?"
"This isn't . . . I can't control it. It's not me."
LaCroix' expression turned grim. "Well, then. Isn't this
familiar?" He brushed at the front of his shirt and spoke slowly. "If
it isn't you,
who do you suppose it to be?"
"The demon? Ah yes, the demon." LaCroix took on a
long-suffering look and sighed. "Nicholas . . . ." He looked as if he
were going to continue, but then the corners of his mouth turned up
and he laughed--a hollow, harsh sound. When he stopped, the grim
"This demon was exorcised, was it not?"
Nick nodded. "Yes, but part of it's still within me."
"Demonic," LaCroix raised both eyebrows and slightly cocked
Nick brightened. Maybe LaCroix would understand after all.
"Yes! Or--or--or a fingerprint of sorts. Part of it's still here," Nick
his chest, "and I can't control its influence over me. I'm thinking,
doing things, that I don't want to do."
"Really?" LaCroix sounded highly amused.
"I almost killed tonight." Nick watched LaCroix' expression
serious, the elder vampire's jaw muscles working underneath the pale
skin. "She was just standing there, and it would have been so easy
to get her alone. And imagining it was more vivid than a real
LaCroix lowered his head and looked up at Nicholas from
hooded lids. "So that's what I felt coming from you."
Nick nodded and looked away. "I could feel her heat, and her
in my mouth as if it were happening, and it--" Nick's voice cracked
as he fought tears. "I almost convinced myself--I almost took her."
"Yessss," LaCroix said. As Nick looked at him, confused, the
man whispered, a dark edge to his voice: "It was exquisite."
Nick wanted to strike out at LaCroix, but he couldn't muster
energy. "No, you don't understand."
"I understand perfectly. You think, in essence, that the devil
you do it." A bitter smile graced LaCroix' face. "Oh, Nicholas. You're
more human than you allow yourself to believe."
"I had--I had control before. It's the demon's influence,
didn't feel this way until the demon came into me." Nick took a few
steps backward and collapsed into a plush chair.
"Yes." LaCroix stepped forward, stopping directly in front of
Nicholas. "You did."
Nick shook his head and avoided LaCroix' piercing blue eyes.
"It was always there, Nicholas. You know that. It's been there
almost 800 years."
Nick stared at a spot directly above LaCroix' right knee,
think of a counter argument. "I've been able to control it for so
Calmly, LaCroix continued. "Desire, missed opportunities,
you've neglected, all stacked on top of one another for so many
years. Now a," LaCroix pressed his eyes shut as he said the word,
"demon has come along and toppled your little tower of denial. It
didn't leave anything that wasn't already there; all it did was bring
your own needs and desires to the fore, Nicholas. They're yours. The
only difference now is your inability to deny yourself of them."
LaCroix paused, then grabbed Nick's chin, forcing their eyes
meet. "Why did you come here?"
"You know why." A beat. "I needed bloo--"
"I know this demon has fueled your natural need for blood.
much is evident. But why did you come here, to my room? My
office affords privacy, a couch where you could rest, a vintage
supply. If you came here only for human blood, why not go there?"
Nick tried to jerk his chin free of LaCroix' gasp, but the
vampire held tight. Nick had no answer.
LaCroix released Nick's chin and brushed the back of his
the side of his son's face. "Because this is what you desire." He ran
his thumb over Nick's lips. "And you can only allow yourself the
pleasure as long as you're convinced it really isn't your doing."
Nick gasped as LaCroix' fingers twined in his hair, jerking
to the side, as he bent over and tongued the length of Nicholas' neck.
Nick's cock hardened instantly from the unexpected caress, but as
quickly as it happened, LaCroix released his grip on his son's hair
and stepped back.
"See?" LaCroix regarded the bulge between Nicholas' legs. "We
need what we need, Nicholas. You've had your fill of human blood
just now, yet you still feel out of control. And given your recent
behavior, it's obvious that you can't go on feeling this way." LaCroix'
face softened and he offered his hand. His voice came out
in a low whisper that sent chills through Nicholas.
"You must have some sort of release."
Nicholas looked at LaCroix' outstretched hand for several
seconds. Finally, his eyes met the cool blue ones that looked down
at him and he hesitantly clasped his father's hand in his own. LaCroix
helped Nicholas rise from the chair and led him across the
semi-dark room to his large bed, his eyes barely leaving Nicholas'
face the entire time.
LaCroix swiftly pulled back the thick covers and, almost as an
afterthought, he smoothed the sheet with his hand. He positioned
Nicholas between himself and the bed and gently pushed down on
his tight shoulders until his son was seated before him.
"And I insist on providing it."
The old vampire met no resistance as he relieved Nicholas of
clothes and encouraged him to lie down. Nick's movements were a
bit jerky, as if he'd been rolled up in a ball for too long and his
kept trying to spring back into an old, familiar position. He wasn't
offering any help, but despite his obvious reluctance to participate
actively, at least he wasn't fighting it anymore. Nicholas scooted
himself to the center of the bed and reached for the edge of the sheet
that LaCroix had neatly gathered at the foot.
Anticipation zipped through LaCroix' groin as he decided that
long, slow massage might help to soothe his tense offspring. He
stepped into a small room just off the sleeping area and set about
deciding which bottle would be the most appropriate. LaCroix
perused his small but varied collection, searching for just the right
potion. Though this occasion called for something extra smooth and
luxurious, he didn't want to use anything that might overpower
Nicholas' own masculine scent.
His crotch tightened as, feeling every bit the proud Roman
he selected an ornate flask of olive oil and returned to his sleeping
LaCroix' breath caught in his throat as he entered. In his
were fought for less a prize than that which was now laid out before
him. His son's pale form was stretched against the dark maroon
sheet: a beautiful study in contrasts. Nicholas would have been
immortalized in stone, in oils, in clay and virtually worshipped by the
sensualists during LaCroix' lifetime. Most men would have killed to
spend time with him, and women would have betrayed their valiant
husbands for a chance to be near him.
Nicholas' arms rested at his sides and his head was turned to
opposite direction. Lean, muscled legs were spread slightly apart,
one knee bent casually. His impressive penis lay to one side, his
scrotum hanging full and heavy amidst a growth of thick, dark-blond
hair. Nicholas had obviously changed his mind about covering
himself. LaCroix smiled. Not participation exactly, but a promising
The aroused vampire walked around the bed and placed the flask
oil on his bedside table. While he undressed, he found himself
immensely pleased that Nicholas' golden eyes never left his body. As
a thought occurred to him, and old memory, he smiled and headed
back into the little closet-like room. After searching through three
drawers he found what he was after and returned to his waiting son.
Flinching as he struck the match, LaCroix lit the fat candle
found and placed it on the table. Nicholas watched him intently as
LaCroix held up the match, slowly and seductively pursed his
mouth into a small 'o,' and puffed out the flame. The old vampire
took a deep breath as Nick's fully erect cock twitched.
"Roll over, mon fils." LaCroix slid his hand behind Nick's
and turned him, noticing, remembering, how candlelight played off
Nick's features, accenting the blue-gold of his eyes and the shine of
hair. How it shimmered on his preternatural skin. LaCroix picked
up the flask and crawled onto the bed.
He straddled Nick's well-formed ass, loving the feel of the
malleable beneath him. Squeezing Nick's hips between his thighs, he
rocked slightly, his son's smoothness intensifying his arousal.
Nick's body tensed as, without warning, LaCroix poured the
oil directly onto his skin. As he rubbed both of his hands into the
pool that formed in the curve of Nick's lower back, Nick's muscles
unclenched a bit and the tense vampire sighed.
LaCroix coated Nick's entire back with oil, rubbing the slick
slowly but firmly, paying special attention to his shoulders and the
back of his neck. The old Roman slid himself down past Nick's
thighs and, parting them with his hands, knelt between them.
Nick moaned as LaCroix' ministrations moved to his thighs, his
master's fingers kneading first their backs, and then their sensitive
inner area. The backs of his knees were gently rubbed, and LaCroix
turned to one side, then the other, to fully massage Nick's muscled
LaCroix slowly pulled an oiled hand up the back of each limb,
stopping as he reached the inviting buttocks of his horseman son. With
leisurely strokes he manipulated and squeezed each mound of
flesh in a symmetrical pattern, his slick thumbs delving into the long
crevice between them with each back and forth motion.
He could hear Nick's breath coming fast, an occasional soft
escaping from his completely aroused son. Running his hands up the
strong back and sliding on his knees to Nicholas' side, he whispered,
LaCroix' desire spiraled as Nick rolled over and turned ruby
his maker. His fangs had dropped and his mouth was wet and full
from licking and biting his lips. Everything about him looked sexual
LaCroix picked up the flask and reluctantly stood. He took up
spot at the foot of the bed with Nicholas' eyes following him
hungrily all the while. Forcing himself to move slowly, he pushed
the piled bedclothes out of his way and poured the golden oil over
Nicholas' feet, eliciting a soft snarl of excitement from him.
The elder vampire smoothed the oil between his son's toes,
instep, around his ankles. Impulsively, LaCroix leaned down and
traced his tongue in wet circles over the bottom of each foot before
firmly rubbing the shining oil into the soles of his son's feet.
Nicholas shuddered at the touch of his master's tongue and began
slowly rolling his head from side to side. LaCroix gasped in desire
as Nick's hips bucked forward and his hands twisted the sheets.
Finishing with his feet, LaCroix moved to the side of the bed
knelt next to the beautiful, writing body of his son. He rubbed down
the front of Nicholas' thighs and calves as efficiently as he'd done
rest, and had to force himself to ignore the straining manhood that
was almost literally under his nose. The musky scent of Nick's
arousal wafted up around him, making it difficult to concentrate on
the movements of his hands.
Nicholas moaned and reached for LaCroix' cock only to have his
hand pushed firmly away.
Skipping the part of Nick's body he most wanted to tend,
spread his oiled hands across Nick's stomach, secretly thrilling at the
fast up and down movement of the pale chest as his son panted in his
arousal. The ancient vampire lowered his head, dampening first one
taut nipple, then the other, before his sure hands slid over them,
pinching and teasing them into even tighter points.
"Ah, LaCroix . . . I can't take anymore, please." Nick moaned
LaCroix splashed the silky oil over his neck, allowing it to pool in
the hollow at the base of his throat. Nick reached for LaCroix' cock,
then his own, but his sire again firmly pushed his hands away and
back to his sides. As his skilled fingers massed his son's neck, his
urge to bend down and drink from this magnificent creature was
almost unbearable. He slid his hands over Nick's broad shoulders
and down his arms, pressing and squeezing as he went.
Prying each of his son's fists from the sheet, LaCroix used
of his fingers to massage the back of Nick's hands while he moved
his thumbs in a firm, circular motion over the palms. As he slowly
stroked the length of each finger in turn, Nick clamped his hands
over LaCroix' and tried to pull him closer.
"LaCroix?" Nick's voice rumbled with need, his hands tight
his master's. Smiling, LaCroix pulled free and resumed his crouch
between Nick's legs.
Knowing he should give in, but wanting to prolong the
tease as much as he could, LaCroix squeezed the sides of Nick's
hips, thrilling with each desperate thrust and wriggle of the body
beneath him. He admired his son's cock, straight and thick against
his belly, hard enough so that it barely moved with each of Nick's
squirms. LaCroix pressed his palms in circles on either side of the
gorgeous member, thoroughly massaging his entire lower-stomach
and pelvic area.
The old vampire gently spread the oil over the tight sac
Nicholas' legs and was rewarded with his frenzied son arching off
the bed in pleasure. As he concentrated on the small strip of flesh
between Nick's anus and scrotum, Nick let out a strained whimper
which quickly turned into a full force growl. LaCroix slid two satiny
fingers into his son's body before finally rubbing a friction-warmed,
slick hand down the underside of Nicholas' cock.
"Oh!" Nick's hips thrust forward, pressing his erection into
too-gentle stroke, simultaneously squeezing around the longer
fingers in his ass. As LaCroix took the base of Nick's organ in his
hand and started a slow, upward movement, Nick cried out. "Oh,
faster . . . please, I can't . . . . "
"Shhhhhh, shhhhhh." LaCroix slowly and gently massaged the
swollen head with the tips of his fingers, calmly shushing his son's
occasional pleas for release. As he squeezed the head of Nick's
cock, he slowly moved his fingers in and out of the quivering body
that was now so completely at his mercy. After a few minutes of
this slow foreplay, aware of his own almost painful erection, he gave
in to his son's throaty pleas.
He wrapped his fist around the tip of Nick's cock and slowly
down to the base before falling into a slow pumping rhythm. Nick's
panting was interspersed with long moments of holding his breath
and growling low in his throat.
"Yes, oh god, LaCroix." Nicholas voice dripped with passion as
encouraged his lover's attentions. "Ohhhh, yessss . . . ."
As he increased the speed of his strokes, LaCroix turned up
palm, spinning his fingers around inside Nicholas and curving them
upward in a "come here" motion. As his fingertips pressed upward,
finding Nick's sacred spot, his son's back arched violently and he
heard the sheet tear in Nicholas' grip as he cried out.
He moved his fingertips in slow circles against his son's
other hand now working furiously up and down on Nick's erection. The
tight flesh around his fingers contracted erratically, and his son's
already unbelievably hard cock became silk-encased steel in LaCroix'
LaCroix continued the swirling pressure on his son's prostate
pumped his fist down the delicious cock with abandon. "Yes,
The tightening around LaCroix' fingers intensified, and Nick
frantically bucked into his hand, completely lost in sensation. As the
younger vampire's orgasm exploded through his body, he threw his
shining head back and let out a full-throated, male, sexual growl that
nearly caused a spontaneous orgasm in LaCroix.
As Nick's orgasm reached its apex, LaCroix threw himself over
son's body, his erection rubbing against Nicholas' pulsing cock,
prolonging the stroking sensation. Nicholas' arms wrapped around
LaCroix and he ground himself against his master's hard flesh. As
LaCroix turned his head to the side, moaning at the sensations this
exquisite creature was giving him, Nick sank his fangs into his
father's neck, drinking deeply of the sex, the pleasure, the power that
only LaCroix possessed.
As his passion slowed to a luxurious crawl, Nick held to
rotating slow sips with licks and kisses spread the length of the
Roman's neck. He let his kisses trail over LaCroix' jaw and chin,
finally covering the full mouth with his own. The elder man
returned the kiss wantonly, lightly moaning around Nicholas' probing
Slowly, LaCroix slid off Nicholas and stretched out on his
to his son. His cock was still hard, and he instinctively pressed it
against Nicholas' hip while his hand traveled in slow, soothing circles
over Nicholas' chest.
Nick was exhausted nearly to the point of unconsciousness, yet
rolled onto his side, reaching for LaCroix' hardness and seeking out
his master's mouth. LaCroix had been so patient, and he needed his
pleasure, as well.
LaCroix captured the groping hand and chastely kissed his
face. "Non, mon fils. Non," he whispered. "Your needs tonight,
Nicholas. And now you need rest." Within minutes, Nicholas had
fallen into a peaceful, dreamless sleep, the first since his
As dusk approached, Nick woke and found himself, to his
completely alone. He thought for a moment, then grinned; LaCroix
knew that facing him the next day would be hard for Nicholas. After
LaCroix' selflessness last night, giving Nicholas his release while
never achieving fulfillment himself, the simple added act of giving
him this space touched Nick deeply.
Although, he thought, LaCroix may have assumed that Nicholas
would be horrified and remorseful about what had happened. Maybe he was
simply sparing himself yet another of his son's
rejections. Nicholas surprised himself by realizing he didn't feel
horrified or remorseful. The thought that he ought to regret it
entered his mind, but he quickly swiped it away. For the first time in
quite a while he felt . . . at peace with himself. Almost.
Nicholas showered and dressed. Once the sun disappeared
completely he headed out of the Raven, not surprised to find his
master nowhere in sight.
"When we went out I told him I liked him as a friend, but
nothing beyond that. I think he took it pretty well."
Nick changed lanes, then looked at Tracy. "That's good. No big
"No. Thank goodness." The pretty blonde smiled, then looked
ahead at the road. "So, you're looking better. I thought you'd be off
for at least another night."
"I'm . . . good." Nick smiled, and realizing the time, he
As the rich timbre of the Nightcrawler's voice oozed out of
speakers, Tracy rolled her eyes and grunted, shaking her head. "We've
got to find you a new station." She grimaced. "Oldies,
Nick laughed. Then, as he listened to LaCroix' show, he
his body instantly answering his father's question.
"I'm here, listening--won't you tell the Nightcrawler just
what it is
that you desire this night?"