Disclaimer: This is a work of amateur, non-profit fiction and is not meant
to infringe on the copyrights of Anne Rice or her publishers. The story is
mine, anyone who tampers with it, or tries to pass it on without my
permission,
remember, I know where you lie!
Warning: This spec contains spoilers to the end of QotD, some m/m sex and
bad language.
Dedication: To my pen friend, Claudia, for painting with your pictures what
I try to do with words. And to Sanneke, for friendship and addictions shared.
Beverley Lee
[EMAIL PROTECTED]
(mailto:[EMAIL PROTECTED])
The remnants of the drink caught in my throat as I swallowed. Spluttering I
cursed out loud, wiping the back of my hand across my mouth. I kicked the
bottle viciously and watched it spin across the stained carpet.
Staggering to the window I opened it and gazed out at the city spread out
below. It could have been any city in America; I couldn't remember where I
was.
The sun was just setting, a glowing orange ball hanging in the grey smog of
the city air. How long since I had seen the sun high in the sky, months,
years? I tried to focus my mind on some distant memory but everything was
hazy.
With a sigh I pressed my head against the glass. It was cool, it felt good.
Funny how I liked the feel of things cold, dead things, against my skin.
Footsteps in the corridor. The sound of a key in the lock. I didn't bother
to turn around.
Someone took hold of my arm and led me towards the bed. Struggling to clear
my vision I saw a man taking money from another who had seated himself by the
bed.
"Any preferences on how I do it?"
The voice belonged to the man who had led me to the bed. He was tall, of
Mediterranean appearance, dark brown hair curling onto his shoulders, fairly
attractive in a cruel sort of way. Did I laugh, was that my voice I heard?
"Just do as you please."
The soft, lilting tones from the figure in the chair, Armand, my demon
lover. I focussed my eyes on him and his beauty took my breath away as it had
done
every time since that very first night in New Orleans. The fact that the
beast in him stirred me more, I didn't want to admit.
He sat, regally, his hands together, fingers touching, dark eyes empty of
any emotion, no lines of worry on his ivory skin. A small frown creased his
face as he read my mind.
"Daniel, do not worry, you know your pleasure is all I desire." The voice of
a saint. This man could make millions on cable TV selling religion. I
suppressed a hysterical laugh.
Chastising me with his eyes he turned to the other man and gestured with his
hand, "Let it begin."
I don't think it was rape because I didn't struggle. My clothes were removed
roughly, hands crawling over my skin, a tongue in my mouth and I responded
on autopilot. The weight of his body crushing me to the bed and the stale
smell of sweat on his skin and then the pain of his forced entry. I was not
ready
for him, and the animal noises from his throat as he fucked me made me feel
sick. The pain coursed through my body, wave after wave, I was still bruised
from last nights' onslaught.
All the time I tried to keep my eyes on my master. I told him silently that
his presence was all that I really wanted. The unspoken words from him
soothed my frenzied thoughts, "Soon Daniel, I will give you your little fix of
heaven."
I could not comprehend what he was thinking as he watched me writhe in pain.
I grabbed hold of the wooden headboard as I felt something tear inside me.
The sound of a scream when the man climaxed, I think it was mine. The room was
spinning, everything became a blur, then the darkness came, and I passed
out.
I awoke to the sound of the water running into the bath. Groaning, I swung
my legs over the side of the bed and stood up. Steadying myself, I made my way
to the bathroom, holding onto the wall for support.
Armand was there in the doorway waiting for me. Standing on his tiptoes he
held my head in his hands and kissed me lightly on the lips, his skin smelt of
cinnamon and damp earth. He led me to the bath and helped me in. The water
was slightly too hot and perfumed by some cheap foam bath supplied by the
hotel. I winced as the water hit my skin but I did what he wanted and lay
down.
He knelt down by the side of the bath and swirled the bubbles around with his
slender fingers. Then he ran his fingers over my skin, starting with my
feet, massaging in between my toes, then up to my legs running his hands over
the
muscles. Even with the heat from the water his skin was still cold and I had
the most delicious thought that tonight he may take more from me than his
little drink.
I wanted to speak but he put one finger to his lips to silence me as he took
hold of my cock and ran his fingers possessively over it, his touch bringing
me to an instant erection. A lazy smile played on his lips as he continued
his assault on my body. I knew what was coming next and he knew that too. His
eyes never left mine as he slid his fingers under my body and parted the
cheeks of my buttocks. Grabbing the handles on either side of the bath, I felt
the water invade my body and I let out a little cry of pain, I was hurting
from the harsh attentions of the man. Slowly Armand pushed his thumb into me
and
watched as my back arched in pain and pleasure. Then with the practise of
age he brought me quickly to a shuddering climax.
I noticed the steam in the bathroom had made his hair curl a little more, he
was truly a devil with the face of a child. I watched as he slowly stood up
and without removing his clothing slipped in on top of me. The water level
rose and sloshed over the side of the bath, gushing down onto the vinyl floor
covering.
I wiped the sweat from my forehead with my hand; in an instant he grasped
hold of my hand and brought it to his icy lips. Then he licked the moisture
from my fingers grazing his fangs delicately along my skin.
"Armand" I moaned his name like a prayer, his very presence was my new
religion.
A small smile spread across his lips, such sweetness in them but I knew all
too well they carried the sting of a scorpion.
The water seeped into the fabric of his white shirt, it clung to the
contours of his slim body, and I could see the outlines of his nipples, dark
against
the soaking material. I had a sudden urge to pull him down but his strength
was so superior he could break my neck with a flick of his wrist.
Opening his mouth so that I could see, he bit down into his lip. The crimson
ran from the wound, marking his pale skin. I felt the saliva flow in my
mouth; I knew what any drug addict was going through. I would have sold my
soul
to Lucifer for one mouthful of that sweet taste; but then I already had.
A few drops fell into the white foam, staining them pink and I watched them
hungrily.
"Fight me, Daniel," he murmured, heated passion in his voice. "I love it
when I make your heart race. Your blood tastes so much sweeter when I excite
you."
I tried to push him away, clawing at his chest, feeling his cool skin
through the slippery fabric.
But he held me still and let the blood drip slowly into my open mouth. I
licked it from my lips greedily, gasping as the taste burned, death on my
tongue
and I craved it so. A few precious drops before he pulled away. Then he
tipped my chin up, lowered his mouth to my neck and sank his fangs slowly into
my
skin. Gasping, I held his head down, silently willing him to drink more. A
little drink was all he took, as always.
He washed me then as you would a helpless child and I lay back revelling in
his touch, his fingers of steel kneading my flesh. Afterwards he dried me
with the starched hotel towels, a look of concentration on his face as he made
sure he had dried me everywhere.
My head had cleared a little by then and I realised I was hungry. Taking my
hand he led me to the bed, "Rest awhile my love, you will need all your
strength soon," he told me. His words sent shivers down my spine; just how
much
was he prepared to share with me tonight?
A knock on the door, but I ignored it and stretched myself out on the bed. I
flicked on the T.V. and found the music channel, losing myself for a moment
in the pulsing beat of a rock song.
Armand answered the door and then sat beside me, he ran his fingers lightly
down my back. "I presume you need to eat?"
"Unfortunately, I can't exist on that sticky red stuff you seem to prefer."
I grinned at him; his childlike eyes sparkled with pleasure. I loved to make
him happy.
Taking the cover from a dish his nose wrinkled up in distaste. "How can you
eat this?" A plate of waffles covered in maple syrup earned his disgust.
"Armand, you beauty, I am starving!" I exclaimed as I reached for the food.
"Not so quick, my Beloved," he slapped the back of my hand. I watched
curiously as he picked up the waffles, gingerly.
"They're not going to bite you!" I quipped, adoring the sight of him in such
a human fashion.
"But I might bite you if you don't stop making fun of me," he pouted and
then he laughed and my heart flipped. Open the door to hell and lead me into
temptation. Forgive me my sins, for they will be many.
He brought the food to my mouth and I bit into the sweetness. I tried to
take hold of the waffle with my fingers but he shook his head.
"No, my love. I want to do this for you. Don't rush this, let it be like
making love for the first time, something to be savoured."
His voice seduced me as it always did, and with my eyes on his, I slowly
satisfied my hunger for food. As I finished the last mouthful, I reached out
for
his hands, which were covered in syrup. Taking one hand I raised it to my
lips and licked the sweetness from each finger in turn, pushing my tongue
under
his long nails.
He made a little noise deep in his throat, a feline purr; "I need you.." I
whispered to him.
He pushed me back onto the bed and lay beside me. His clothes were still wet
from the bath but he didn't seem to notice. I brushed the hair from his
face, curling it around my fingers, "You'll catch your death in those wet
clothes, why don't you take them off?" I said, smiling seductively at him.
"Take them off for me," he ordered quietly, his voice an urgent whisper.
Fumbling slightly, I unfastened the buttons on his shirt and peeled the damp
garment from his back. His pale skin glistened with the water sheen. I took
a deep breath, before I unfastened his trousers and removed them. He wasn't
wearing any underwear.
"What do you want first, Daniel, my body or my blood?"
His eyes locked hypnotically with mine and I started to drown. He lowered
his head and his soft hair spilled over my face. He ran his tongue over my
eager lips and when I closed my eyes in frustration he gently pulled at my
lashes
with his teeth. I wrapped my arms and legs around him, holding him as close
as I could, my need for this magnificent demon never ceased to amaze me,
Louis de Pointe Du Lac you have a lot to answer for.
He brushed the hair from my face and looked down on me, time seemed to stand
still. I could feel his cold breath on my skin, this boy had been dead for
500 years, he should be dust by now, not this living, breathing creature. He
smiled at my thoughts and then very deliberately he dragged his nail along his
chest, creating a deep wound. The blood began to ooze from the cut and my
heart started to beat a little faster.
"For you, my child, your taste of heaven."
And then he cradled my head in his hands and pulled me towards his chest. My
tongue delved into the gash trying to make it bigger. The nectar filled my
mouth and I gulped it down so eager for more. I heard a voice whispering in my
mind, 'are you sure this is what you want?'
Then it was gone and the only sound was from the T.V. music channel, the
words from a song I knew so well, 'Bow down before the one you serve, you're
gonna get what you deserve.'
I was suffocating on the taste and smell of my lover's lifeblood and then
came that point where he pushed me away and my whole world exploded in my
head,
the dizziness overtook me, and again I passed out.
I awoke to the sound of the breakfast trolley squeaking its way down the
corridor. Easing my way off the bed I shivered, I was still naked although
Armand had pulled the bedcover over me before he left, I remembered vaguely. A
little act of affection from my demon-lover.
I went into the bathroom desperate to piss and held onto the wall as I
relieved myself. Then I ran the cold water tap and splashed the ice cold water
on
my face. I looked at my reflection in the mirror. What a dejected wretch I
was, I couldn't remember when I had last had a shave; the stubble was a few
days old at least. My eyes were bloodshot from the drink and lack of sleep and
my hair was plastered to my head with blood and grease.
"What the hell do you see in me?" I asked my reflection. The voice in my
head came back 'he sees your true self, child, the hunger in you that there
must
be more to life than this,' and then the voice faded as it always did.
Boy, I was going mad, sane people didn't hear voices. They didn't let
vampires fuck them and drink their blood either, I mused. They didn't enjoy
the
pain of being whipped and then bring themselves off while their abuser licked
their wounds clean. I smiled to myself, how much longer could I go on like
this?
One day my liver would give out with the booze, and they would find me stiff
and cold in a motel bedroom, another statistic for the local police.
You could end it yourself, another part of me said, the reasoning, human
side of me I had thrown away when I first tasted his immortal kiss. Tears
pricked the back of my eyes and I let them spill down my face, Daniel Molloy
you
are a lost cause.
Pulling my thoughts into some form of coherence I turned on the shower and
waited for the water to run. Stepping under the water I gasped as the needle
fine spray hit the tender skin on my back. I ran my fingertips over my skin
and found the marks he had made with his nails. Then I felt the puncture
wounds
on my neck where he had drunk from me, they would heal quickly, his bites of
love always did. I stayed under the shower for a while, enjoying the
sensation of the soap on my bruised skin, then I stepped out onto the cold
floor
and quickly dried myself with the harsh towels. Why were hotel towels always
the same?
I found a pair of old denim shorts by the bed. They must have been mine so I
put them on and wandered over to the mini-bar. It took great presence of
mind to only take the orange juice. I congratulated myself on my will power;
maybe things were looking up. Singing a tune from the T.V. I tried to open the
bottle of juice. Damn, it was really tight; it had probably been in there for
months, how many punters drink orange juice, for Christ's sake?
Pulling my penknife from the drawer I flicked the bottle opener out and
slipped the point in the offending top. My hands were shaking slightly and I
cursed under my breath.
The blade slipped on the condensation on the bottle and the sharp point went
straight into my hand. The cut was a bad one. I stared in disbelief as the
wound opened up and the blood ran out. The scent of it hit me right between
the eyes and I immediately brought my hand up and ran my tongue over the
wound.
I expected repulsion but I didn't get any. I licked again, now the blood was
running down my arm, and I let it fill my mouth before I swallowed. Jesus,
Danny, this is your blood, you're not supposed to drink your own blood, you
crazy son of a bitch.
But my mouth was gnawing away at the cut, my teeth opening it more, I
ignored the pain and just felt the ecstasy as my thirst grew. Calmly, I took
hold
of the knife and flicked out the longest blade.
I slit my wrist with one motion. It really didn't hurt at all.
With my slit wrist now against my mouth I turned up the T.V. I didn't want
anyone to hear my cries at the end. Then I walked across to the corner of the
room and sat down, my cut hand to my mouth, sucking like a baby.
The anger overtook me then. Anger at myself for the pathetic person I had
become. Anger at him for taking me to the edge and leaving me there, night
after night.
"You'll hate me for this." I mumbled. "Well fuck you, Armand, this is my
decision."
Kinda soothing this, how long did it take to die?
The tears ran down my face, "Armand, I'm so sorry, I can't take this kind of
torture anymore." I spoke out loud as if he could hear me. I thought I heard
the voice in my head, but it was far away, lost in a haze of white noise. I
was very cold and aware of a light in the distance. Should there be a light
at the end of a tunnel? In my frame of mind I wouldn't even be able to find
the tunnel.
Someone was calling my name. I wondered what the doorway to hell looked
like.
I felt strong arms around me, a sense of power, but I couldn't open my eyes.
I knew I was shaking and I tried to form the words in my head. 'I couldn't
say no, he was everything I ever wanted.'
"I know he was, my child, but he has a cruel streak in his nature. I am
afraid that is mainly my fault." The voice in my head!
Struggling, I opened my eyes. I saw a vision of a man, wise beyond belief,
wisps of white/blond hair swirled around his face like smoke tendrils, and his
eyes of palest blue spoke of many battles fought and won. Even the air
around him was quiet and serene, a seemingly invisible barrier against the
night.
"Do you know who I am, my child?" The voice of a god.
"You are the maker of my lover." I said simply, although until that instant
I didn't realise it. "Marius?"
He smiled in acknowledgement and I felt an overwhelming need to be held in
his arms. He pulled me closer and I wrapped my arms around him. Such a feeling
of safety in his touch, now I knew what Armand had felt for him, and why the
pain of his loss still tortured him after all these years.
In desperation I thrust my wrist at him.
"You're a vampire, why can't you do what vampires are supposed to do? I'm
bleeding for God's sake, drink!"
Maybe he would end my pain. I saw his face alter as the smell of my blood
invaded his senses, the same calm, lustful expression that changed Armand's
face when he drank from me. He grasped my wrist tightly and I shut my eyes,
too
much of a coward to watch my own death.
I felt his tongue lapping the runs of blood on my arm and then his mouth was
on the gash itself, drawing my lifeblood into his veins. A sudden warmth
flooded down my arm and I opened my eyes. His lips were covered in blood but
it
wasn't mine, I knew that. The wound on my wrist and hand started to close up
before my eyes, I blinked hard, not believing what I had seen.
"A little vampire trick, Daniel," he said softly, his eyes dancing with
amusement. "I would not take your life, it is too precious to you, and to
Armand," he finished. He beckoned to me to come closer and I fell into his
arms.
Holding me to his chest, he began to speak.
"I made him what he is today, I abandoned him when he needed me the most,
the powers of darkness claimed him then and forged this hard edge to his
heart.
He is so afraid of losing you, Daniel, so afraid of showing you how much
love he feels for you, in case you break his heart, as I did. He feels that if
he makes you ultimately dependable on him, that you will stay with him always.
Believe me, if he tires of you, he would end your life in an instant."
I listened to his words and his heartbeat soothed my tattered senses, my
eyes grew heavy and I drifted into a peaceful sleep.
When I awoke again the sky was just beginning to darken. For the first time
in months, I felt refreshed and a little optimistic, but I wasn't alone.
Rubbing the sleep from my eyes, I saw a shadow across the bed.
"Armand.." I moaned his name as he took me in his arms. He held me very
tightly as I whispered into his soft mane of curls, "Marius, he came to me."
My
voice was shaking.
"I know he did, beloved. I believe he saved your life so I could take it."
I was stunned.
"You will give me your kiss, tonight?" I questioned him, my heart was
pounding so hard it was making me dizzy.
"When I feel the time and the place is right." He kissed me long and hard,
his fangs bruising my bottom lip.
Throwing me my sweatshirt, he walked to the balcony. I hesitated. He held
out his hand. I took it and we went outside.
Fourteen stories up, the cars below like toys on a child's mat. The stars
emerging in the night sky, the night air warm and wild.
Gracefully he climbed onto the wall of the balcony. The wind whipped his
hair around his face and his skin gleamed under the light from the balcony
above.
"Come up with me, my love." His words were silky smooth.
With my heart racing, I scrambled up beside him. Terror claimed my words. I
held onto his arm with a vice like grip. He was as solid as a rock. Then he
peeled my fingers from his arm.
"One step forwards, Danny."
This was it then? The ultimate test.
" However this ends, I love you," I whispered, the tears streaming down my
face. The wind took the words from my mouth. and I stepped from the edge.
A scream, it was mine, the floors of the hotel flashed past my eyes as I
spiralled downwards.
A sudden jolt and the floors stopped. He held me tightly and I saw the look
of love in his dark eyes, I think his eyelashes were damp, but don't quote me
on that, everything had happened so fast.
I wanted to hit out at him for making me go through this nightmare, but I
was frightened to let go. Suddenly we were moving forwards, the wind echoed in
my ears and my vision blurred by the speed at which we moved. His arms around
me were solid and comforting, I knew he would not let me fall.
I had finally offered him everything that I had. He had taken possession of
my body and my blood, and when I stepped from that balcony I had offered him
my life.
There was nothing left to sacrifice.
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