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Encounters with Evil Pt. 01

By: roughboy18



Encounters with Evil © Copyright jvaughn, 2013. All rights reserved. Copyright violators will be prosecuted to the fullest extent of the law. 

*

Tigger focused carefully, squinting at the glass in his hand and willing his muscles to behave as he set the drink down slowly. In spite of his effort, he misjudged the distance and vodka and orange juice sloshed out, dribbling onto the black laminate which was already sticky with spilled drinks. He sat up a little straighter trying not to sway.

Once more he scanned the dance floor for Jon. Bodies undulated to the smoky beat, a jumble of hot sweaty men in provocative club attire, showing off cut pecs and six-pack abs. Normally Tigger would have appreciated the view, but at the moment he was too worried. How long has it been since I've seen Jon? he wondered. His befuddled mind slid to the next thought without answering the first. Oh, shit, I feel dizzy!

"Hey, little cutie! Want to dance?"

Startled, Tigger looked up into a pair of gray eyes. He took in light brown hair, a thin face, a tall stature. He struggled to focus at the same time he slurred, "No, than' you."

"Oh, come on! You've got such a sweet little ass, I bet you move like raw silk."

Raw silk? What kind of a pick up line is that? "N ... no. I can't." Normally Tigger loved to dance, but he was having trouble keeping his balance while sitting. He knew better than to dance. He just wanted to find his friend and go home.

Ignoring the man who continued to stand at his elbow, Tigger pulled out his cell phone. It took him several tries before he managed to pull up his text messages and click on Jon's last text. When he started to type, the letters moved around and blurred on top of each other. He couldn't make heads or tails of what he was typing and knew Jon wouldn't be able to either. He shoved his phone into his back pocket in disgust. I'm such a lightweight. How much did I have to drink?

Too much, his mind supplied right away. He really had no idea how many he'd had, but clearly he should have stopped a few drinks back. Drowning his loneliness in alcohol had seemed like a good idea a few hours earlier. Now he wished he hadn't. It really didn't help; it just made him maudlin.

I'm over Harold—I've been over Harold for a long time. Why am I acting like this? He had been heartbroken when Harold left him for the girl who was tutoring him in math. Harold was his high school crush and the only boyfriend he'd ever had. They had gotten together during their freshman year of college, but the long-distance relationship had only lasted a few months. That was more than two years ago. Harold was still dating Becky, and Tigger was finally getting over his hurt and anger. He and Harold were even on their way to becoming tentative friends again.

So why am I such a drunken sop tonight? A cynical voice in his head supplied an answer: because nobody wants you. Tigger knew that wasn't true. He was shy, but it wasn't as if no ever flirted with him. He had even dated a few guys, but nothing had ever lasted beyond a second date. It's me. I'm too picky. Something was always missing. Finding a guy who made his dick hard was not a problem—well, actually it was usually too much of a problem. Finding someone who made his heart flutter—that rarely happened, and when it did, the guy was never interested in anything more than a quick fuck. Tigger refused to settle for that—not for his first time. He and Harold had fooled around plenty, but they had never "gone all the way."

Am I the only guy in the world who wants a relationship? Or am I just attracted to the wrong kind of guys? He had asked himself those questions already a million times and had decided that both were true. Most guys his age did not want to be tied down, and the type of guy he was attracted to—big, muscular, dominant, and imposing—that type of guy in particular was not interested in a relationship.

Lost in thought he let his head slump forward and blond bangs fell into his eyes. He sat up and pushed them back with an impatient hand, following the movement automatically with one to settle his non-existent glasses back onto his nose. He was wearing his contacts tonight.

"Hey! Come on—let's dance!" Mr. Tall Gray-Eyes hadn't been easily discouraged and was still standing next to him. Now he grabbed his hand, which was still poised in mid-air confusion over the missing glasses, and yanked him up out of his seat.

Tigger let out a yip of surprise and struggled to keep his balance. He failed miserably and would have gone down if Mr. Tall hadn't grabbed him. Suddenly his nose was in a sweat soaked shirt and Mr. Tall's hands were wrapped around him. A spike of unease shot through him. This is so not what I want right now.

"Hey there, cutie. Careful." Mr. Tall laughed.

Tigger steadied himself with difficulty and tried to pull away. Mr. Tall held him tightly.

"Let me go!" Tigger protested. Shoving hard and twisting, he managed to extricate himself from Mr. Tall's grasp. He staggered a few steps and grabbed onto the railing that ran around the edge of the bar area to keep from going down.

Mr. Tall was right behind him. "Looks like someone's had a wee bit too much to drink," he observed, a smirk in his voice.

The alcohol had stripped away Tigger's emotional filters, and anger over the man's condescending tone washed over him. He glared at the man, a retort on the tip of his tongue. The predatory gleam in the gray eyes stopped him. His heart skipped a beat. Shit, I need to get away from him before he takes advantage of my drunken ass—literally. Adrenalin coursed through his veins, and he was instantly steadier on his feet. He took a deep breath, located the door, and headed quickly in that direction, focusing on keeping his balance.

Before he knew it he was outside, breathing in the cool air. It had been a warm day, but even in June, Seattle nights were often chilly. The humid air felt good on his bare arms. He started walking fast, glancing behind him to make sure Mr. Tall wasn't following.

He hadn't gotten very far when he remembered Jon. He'll will just have to get by without me for the evening. He paused on a street corner and pulled out his phone. Struggling to focus, he didn't even try to text this time. Instead he pulled up his favorites and, after a few moments of squinting to make the letters quit dancing, he managed press the button for Jon. He started walking again as he listened to it ring. When it went to voicemail, he hung up. He'd try again in a little while.

He headed toward home. It was a long walk, not quite two miles he guessed, but he thought the walk would do him good. The adrenalin had worn off and he weaved back and forth, barely staying on the sidewalk. A few minutes later, his stomach rebelled. When he realized he was going to lose his dinner to the street, he dodged into the nearest alley. Shadows deepened as he made his way past the first dumpster on unsteady feet. The scent of rotting vegetation and decaying flesh assailed his senses, making the need to expel the contents of his stomach urgent. He put his hands against the nearest brick wall, leaned over, and emptied his guts onto the pavement.

Why, oh why, did I drink so much? He felt like the worst kind of low life. Am I such a loser that I'm dead drunk and barfing in an alley?

When his stomach settled, his head felt clearer. He spat repeatedly, wishing he had some water. Finally he gathered himself together and headed back toward the street. That's when he heard quick footsteps behind him. He spun around and was hit with a wave of vertigo. Stumbling backwards, he wind-milled his arms to keep from going down.

He didn't go down. Frigid hands grabbed him as if he weighed nothing and flung him against the wall of the building behind him. His head slammed into the brick and his world dimmed for a moment as pain shot through him.

When he could focus again, he found himself staring into a pair of cold black eyes that were bottomless pits of utter darkness. He'd never seen eyes like that; there were no irises, only blackness. His chest tightened painfully as terror gripped him, spreading through his body in a flash, tensing every muscle down to his toes, turning him to stone. This can't be real. No one has eyes like that!

He was peripherally aware that the man's angular face was unnaturally pale, framed with straight black shoulder length hair. A sharp, acrid smell permeated the air. The hands that held him pinned to the wall were colder than ice, causing a chill to emanate from his arms into his core. His body began to shake uncontrollably. He felt his eye's stretch wide in a completely useless defense mechanism.

Instinctively he put up his hands up to push the apparition away. I must be hallucinating. I wonder if someone slipped a roofie into my drink. The creature—he couldn't possibly be a man—grabbed his wrists with icy hands and yanked them over his head, forcing them painfully against the rough wall. He heard himself whimper softly. He was sure his heart had stopped beating.

The apparition's thin lips curled into a cruel smile as the unfathomable eyes shifted downward. Tigger could feel his gaze as it traveled slowly down his body as surely as if the man had been touching him with his eyes, undressing him. The hairs on the back of his neck and his arms stood on end, giving him the sensation of tiny bugs crawling over his skin.

This can't be happening.

He then heard what could only be the snick of a switchblade sliding out. The bright steel in his attacker's hand reflected the distant street light. Oh god, this is it! He's going to kill me now. He felt the cool blade against his cheek and he had to clamp down hard to stop himself from wetting his pants. Some cool distant part of his mind told him that it didn't matter—he wouldn't be embarrassed after he was dead.

"Such a pretty face." The man's voice sounded like rustling leaves. He had an accent that Tigger had never heard. He slid the blade down the side of Tigger's face, not cutting him, he was pretty sure; there was no pain. The knife slithered slowly down to his throat to rest against his jugular.

"It would be so easy," the creature rasped, sliding the blade lightly across Tigger's neck. Tigger was so frozen with terror he hadn't taken a breath in minutes. Now he hoped he would pass out soon from lack of oxygen and save himself from having to witness his own death. "But I have other plans for you, yes," the fiend rasped. "No easy death for you, my friend."

Tigger whimpered again, and it sounded pitiful even to himself.

"Let's see what that tiny body looks like." The knife was suddenly no longer at his throat. Tigger took in a huge gasp of air and let it out on another whimper as the creature sliced the front of Tigger's jeans and briefs wide open in one quick long swipe that continued down one pant leg to his knee. Tigger felt the cool night air rush over his genitals.

"Well, look at that," the creature said. Moving the cold blade under Tigger's balls, he used the flat of it to lift them up and bounce them gently a few times.

A fresh wave of terror exploded within Tigger and the world began to fade out around him. All his muscles, which had been fully tense, suddenly went limp. He would have fallen if the creature hadn't had his hands still pinned against the wall over his head. He heard himself moan softly as he sagged. Unfortunately he didn't actually pass out and his head started to clear immediately. He wanted to close his eyes and pray, but some fierce part deep inside of him insisted that he pay attention so he wouldn't miss any chance to escape. There won't be an escape, his thinking mind told him. There is no way you can get away from a demon. He wasn't sure what the creature was, but not a flesh-and-blood man, he was positive. He was supernatural—and exceedingly evil.

The demon had finished playing with his balls and moved the knife back to the top of his chest. Catching the edge of his tight T-shirt with the blade, he sliced slowly downward, the fabric falling open as he went. Tigger felt the sting of the knife biting into his bare skin. Looking down he watched the monster create a long shallow gash, from his collarbone to his navel. Blood began to bead into it.

The sight of the blood caused something inside Tigger to shriek with terror. He opened his mouth, but no sound came out. He felt as if he were in a nightmare where he couldn't scream or run. This can't be real. Demons aren't real. I must be dreaming. But the cut on his chest began to burn with an intensity that belied illusion. It felt all too real.

The creature's nostrils flared and his bottomless eyes began to glow with a faint amber light. He leaned over, stuck out a long tongue, and licked the blood off Tigger's chest in a long slow swipe, letting out a low noise as if he was savoring something delicious.

Tigger shuddered with horror at the demon's touch. The monster's tongue was as frigid as his hands, and the noise that he made shattered something deep inside Tigger—possibly his sanity. The scream that was inside Tigger came out then, long and loud.

The creature began to laugh, a cruel, chilling sound, but what plundered the last vestiges of Tigger's wit was the glimpse of fangs that he saw in the demon's mouth. His canines were long and sharp, and they glinted even in the meager light. Vampire! some part of his mind supplied the demon's designation, but his reason had already fled and he couldn't process what that meant.

Something in the vampire's face changed in that instant. He dropped Tigger's hands and spun around. At the same time Tigger heard a low whistling sound that ended in a quiet thwack. The vampire's tall, thin body went suddenly rigid, and a heartbeat later all the tension evaporated from it as he collapsed, falling boneless onto the pavement.

Tigger found himself sitting on the ground, his back still to the wall, his knees pulled up to his chest. He was shaking uncontrollably. He had no recollection of his legs giving out and his body sliding to its current position.

The sense of relief that enveloped him like a warm river was arrested in mid-flow as a huge shadow materialized out of the darkness, moving toward him at a rate that was too fast to be humanly possible. Chapter Two

Tigger stared into the darkness, straining to make details out of shadow and movement. The figure racing toward him was a man, or at least man-shaped. He was big, even bigger than the vampire. He moved with uncanny speed and a grace that denied his size.

Before Tigger could move, the man-thing was in front of the demon. He bent over the still form and removed something from the vampire's neck, dropping it into a small container that disappeared back into his jacket pocket. He was wearing normal clothes, if all black—black leather jacket, black jeans, black shirt, black boots. His enormous bulk seemed to be solid muscle. The most unusual thing about him was that he had an eyepatch. His close-cropped hair was dark, and Tigger noted that he had a wide, masculine jaw and a strong nose.

As soon as he finished with the vampire, the man turned his attention to Tigger. His one dark eye glittered coldly as it swept over him. "Get up," he ordered. His voice was low and gravelly.

When Tigger didn't make a move, he reached down and grabbed him by his arm, yanking him to his feet. Tigger was relieved to feel that the man's hand was warm. His relief vanished as he saw his naked cock bobbing up and down before him. Sitting with his knees to his chest, Tigger had forgotten that his clothes were in shreds. He couldn't help the whimper that came out of him as he realized how exposed he was in front of this stranger. He tried to shield his nakedness with this hands.

The man didn't stop to admire him; he began to drag Tigger further into the alley. Tigger's pants tangled around his ankles and he would have gone down if the man didn't have a strong grip on his arm.

"Oh for heaven's sake!" the man growled, obviously frustrated with him. Tigger let out a yip as the stranger picked him up, slung him over his shoulder, and started running down the alley. He panicked, letting out a bloodcurdling scream at the same time he began to beat on the man's back with his fists. He might as well have been hitting a brick wall.

The man pulled him off of his shoulder and set him down in front of him, holding him firmly with one large hand while the other clamped over his mouth to muffle his screams. Tigger was used to being shorter than everyone, but he was usually at least chin-height. With this man, Tigger found himself eye-level with the middle of his massive chest. It would do him no good to struggle.

"Hush! I'm rescuing you!" the stranger said in an urgent whisper.

His words didn't register; Tigger was only aware that this giant, who had him in his tight grasp, was angry with him. He stopped screaming because it seemed to be what the man wanted and he didn't want to antagonize him. The big man removed his hand from Tigger's mouth, but his single eye bore into him with a ferocity that made his heart stutter—and not in a good way. Terror shot through him.

"Please," Tigger managed to gasp out. "Please don't hurt me."

The fire in the man's eye faded and his face softened a bit. Or maybe that was Tigger's imagination; he still looked like he was made of granite. "I'm not going to hurt you," he said quietly. "Please try to calm down." Tigger saw that, although the man's iris was very dark, he did indeed have one. He did not have the black-hole eyes of a vampire.

Tigger's heart started beating again, albeit rapidly. He glanced around and realized they were at the far end of the alley. The man still had ahold of his arm with one hand, and he urged him a few steps over to a large, sleek motorcycle that was parked there. The man opened a compartment on the back of the bike and pulled out a helmet—all black, of course.

At that moment Tigger's body adjusted to not being in imminent danger of death, and his stomach turned inside out. He fought the sensations, swallowing rapidly as saliva flooded his mouth. He leaned over with the excuse of tugging up his shredded jeans, but even after he had pulled them up and covered his nakedness as best he could, he stayed bent over, breathing deeply.

"Are you okay, kid?" the man asked, his voice was surprisingly gentle. He didn't let go of his arm, but now Tigger felt a hand on his back. He flinched and then settled as the man rubbed his back soothingly. After a few moments he said with urgency, "You done, kid? We don't have much time."

"He's ... he's not dead?" Tigger stammered, standing up slowly. He seemed to be having trouble getting his brain to work.

"No, he's un—." The man stopped whatever he'd been about to say, and said instead, "I just stunned him. He's going to wake up soon. We need to be gone before that happens."

Tigger let out a low, terrified moan and started to tremble. He couldn't stop his body's visceral reaction to another encounter with the demon.

"I got you," the man said soothingly. Scooping Tigger up, he hugged him to his chest as he straddled the bike, and then he settled him in front, facing him. He pulled Tigger's thin legs over his own muscular thighs, placing his feet on the seat behind him.

Tigger was afraid of this large, gruff man who was manhandling him without his consent, but he was terrified of the vampire. His chest still burned with a horrible, stinging pain, and the only reason he wasn't crying out was because there was so much else to occupy his mind. He was in survival mode; his pain, sharp as it was, was a background noise to the worry for his life which was all-consuming.


Encounters with Evil Pt. 01



It didn't occur to him to try to get away from the man—he had seen how fast he could run. Instead he fought, mostly unsuccessfully, to cover his private parts again with the tatters of his once-tight jeans. He was still shaking so hard he was surprised his teeth weren't rattling. A weight settled around his shoulders and he smelled leather and the tantalizing, musky scent of virile male. The man had wrapped him in the leather jacket he'd been wearing.

"Don't touch anything in the pockets," the man ordered.

Tigger slipped his arms into the huge sleeves and pulled the jacket more tightly around himself. The man was wearing a holster with an odd-looking gun strapped around his chest. His muscle-T lived up to its name, showing off an incredibly impressive sculpted chest and bulging arms.

Tigger's gaze travelled up to take in the stranger's face, seeing him in the light of the streetlamp. His shiny dark hair curled over his forehead but was cut short at the sides. He had high cheekbones and stubble shadowed his jaw. Tigger got the impression that this man would have to shave twice a day to appear clean-shaven. Indeed, the thick dark curls peeking out from around the man's T supported this supposition.

The eyepatch was unnerving, making Tigger wonder what was beneath it. The man's good eye was taking him in with an intensity that would have made Tigger shudder if he hadn't already been shaking like a leaf.

"I'll take you home now." The deep voice was uncompromising. "And I'll be having a discussion with your parents about letting their son wander about at all hours of the night—and a discussion with you about underage drinking."

"Parents...?" Tigger sputtered. "Underage?" His fear vanished, consumed by sudden anger. "You'll have to go a long way to talk to my parents," he said indignantly. "They live in Centralia."

The man looked surprised. "Where do you live? Who's taking care of you?"

"I have my own apartment," Tigger fumed. "And I'm not underage." He was sick of people assuming he was a kid because of his small stature and big eyes. Granted, he didn't have much facial hair and probably never would.

The man's eye looked at him skeptically. "You don't look twenty-one," he stated flatly. He clearly did not believe Tigger.

Tigger had foregone his wallet to go out dancing, simply slipping cash and his driver's license into his pocket. Now he whipped out his ID and presented it to the man with a venomous glare.

The man took the license and squinted at it. "Well, I'll be!" he muttered. "Okay, Melvin, do you still live at this address?" he asked, handing the card back to Tigger.

Tigger groaned inwardly. He hated the name Melvin. It was bad enough that he was small of stature and a geek, but to be saddled with a name that screamed "nerd" was frosting on the cake of shame. "I go by Tigger," he said firmly.

"Tigger?" the man said in disbelief. He could hear his amusement from behind the shiny surface of the helmet that he now wore. "My name's Guy. Nice to meet you Melvin."

Tigger huffed and was about launch into a tirade about calling people what they wished to be called, when he heard a low snarl coming from the alley behind them. Terror streaked through him, and he whimpered, cowering so close to Guy it seemed he was trying to hide himself under the man's skin.

The motorcycle roared to life. "Hang on tight!" Guy ordered unnecessarily—Tigger already had a death grip around his chest. As they started to move, Guy flung something into the mouth of the alley. There was a small explosion and the air filled with blue smoke. The motorcycle picked up speed quickly as they raced off down the street.

Tigger felt the wind on the back of his neck and his bare leg, but otherwise he was in a safe cocoon, snuggled between Guy's broad, warm chest and the heavy leather jacket. He could hear the rumble of Guy's deep voice, but he couldn't hear what he was saying. He got the impression that Guy was carrying on a conversation with someone else. Is he on the phone?

A few minutes later Tigger realized that they had been travelling too long for Guy to be bringing him home. His house was not that far from where he'd had the encounter with the vampire, and the motorcycle was going way too fast to be on city streets. Tigger pulled his face away from the rigid chest and glanced back over the collar of the leather jacket. Sure enough, they were on I-5, heading north.

Panic once again exploded within Tigger. The cynical side of his mind had time to wonder how many times in one night he could tax his heart like this before it gave up on him for good. He felt Guy patting his back reassuringly as the motorcycle dodged around a car. Tigger dove back into his hiding place, face against the steel pecs. There was nothing he could do about his situation—he couldn't even talk to Guy right now—so he might as well calm down so that Guy would put both his hands back on the handlebars.

A few moments later Tigger felt the motorcycle slow down and they came to a stop. Tigger sat back and looked around, recognizing that they were waiting at the light on the corner of Montlake and Roanoke, not too far from his home. Guy must have gotten onto Hwy 520 and taken the first exit.

The faceplate on the big man's helmet slid up on its own accord and Tigger found himself once more under the scrutiny of that one compelling dark eye. "You still live at the address on your license?" Guy barked.

"Y...yes, sir," Tigger answered, automatically adding the honorific in response to Guy's authoritative tone.

A smile of satisfaction stole over the other man's face. It was too grim to be a happy smile, but it made him look less imposing. The faceplate slid back into place and Tigger found himself staring at a distorted image of himself: his diminutive nose looked huge and he had no chin whatsoever.

The engine revved and they hurtled down the street once more. Tigger resumed his previous position, snuggled up against Guy's chiseled chest, arms around his warm torso. He was feeling much calmer now that he was pretty sure his rescuer was bringing him home. He breathed deeply and Guy's scent invaded senses. It was unmistakably masculine, smelling of sweat, tobacco, and leather, and the last vestiges of a piquant soap. He was suddenly aware of the hardness of the muscles under his hands, the strength of the thighs he was resting on, and the heat of the groin against his own.

He sucked in a harsh breath as heat flooded him. No, no, no! Not now! he begged as his cock began to fill. He and his cock had had a tumultuous relationship ever since he was thirteen. It liked to flaunt its authority frequently and impressively and there didn't seem to be much he could do to stop it. He tried to make his mind go blank, but the fact that he was sitting in the lap of the most gorgeous hunk of man he'd ever met made it impossible.

He started to pull one of his hands away from Guy so he could make sure that his shredded jeans covered his shame when they went around a corner, the cycle leaning sharply. His hand automatically clutched more tightly around Guy's chest, and he couldn't relinquish it. He felt the tip of his fully erect cock butt up against Guy's washboard stomach and he closed his eyes tightly in embarrassment. He didn't think things could get any worse, but when they turned into the alley behind his apartment building, the rutted road caused them to bounce up and down. He was practically humping Guy. He bit his lower lip to keep from crying out as waves of ecstasy washed over him.

Guy did not stop in the alley but pulled the motorcycle around the block and up to the front of the building, gaining a little speed so he could bump up the two steps onto the porch and pulling to a sudden sideways stop in front of the door.

His faceplate slid open with a quiet whir and Tigger found Guy grinning at him, a twinkle in his one eye. The look was so unexpected that Tigger momentarily forgot all about his cock.

"Keys," Guy demanded.

"Uh...." Tigger suddenly realized he wasn't wearing his jacket. He vaguely remembered leaving the club in hurry because that tall guy was trying to pick him up. "I left my jacket at the club," he said in a small voice.

"No keys?" Guy's tone was not accusatory.

"No keys," Tigger admitted. "I can call my roommate and...." He trailed off as Guy reached into the inside pocket of his jacket, which Tigger was still wearing, and pulled out a leather case. Inside the case was an array of small tools. Guy selected one and went to work on the door lock. Tigger's mouth dropped open in shock as fifteen seconds later the door clicked open. Using the front wheel of the bike to keep the door from closing, Guy placed the tool back into the case and slipped it into his back pocket.

"Hang on," Guy said. Not waiting for a response from Tigger, he pulled the motorcycle around so it was fully facing the front door, slammed the door wide open with his hand, and gunned the engine.

Tigger let out a yelp of surprise as the motorcycle bumped over the small step into the apartment building. The engine sounded astonishingly loud as they roared through the hallway and came to quick stop in front of the elevator. The car was already on the ground floor and the door slid open as soon as Guy pushed the button. He killed the motor as he eased the bike through the doorway. He had to pull the bike to a diagonal to get it to fit into the tight space.

"Hey dude! You can't ride that in here," Tigger heard one of his neighbors protest as the doors slid shut. Guy punched the button for the second floor.

"Damn!" Tigger said in awe. "I wasn't expecting that."

"I would have taken the stairs, but I didn't want to give you a heart attack." Guy took off his helmet and stowed it in the compartment behind him.

"No," Tigger agreed. "I think my heart has had all it can take for one evening." He was relieved to notice that the excitement had caused his erection to wilt. This was first time Tigger had seen Guy in the light. The big man's one eye was a warm rich brown, his hair almost blue-black. Tigger's gaze, sweeping downward, was drawn to an artful tattoo that wound around his right bicep. Done in solid black, it was an intricate design of moons, stars, and circles with ivy winding in between. It looked Celtic or maybe Pagan. It was stunning against Guy's olive skin.

When they reached his floor, Guy backed the bike carefully out of the elevator using only his feet, and to Tigger's relief, he walked it to his front door using the same method.

"Is anyone home?" he asked.

"I don't think so, but you can try." Before the words had even left Tigger's mouth, Guy was pounding on the door.

"Don't break it down!" Tigger admonished.

"It's a solid door," Guy said, "but your lock is worthless. You don't even have a deadbolt." Once again the toolkit came out, and this time Guy had the door open in less than five seconds.

"Holy shit, you're good at that," Tigger said as the cycle nudged into his apartment. As the door clicked shut behind them, his rescuer drew his gun. Tigger's heart rate immediately skyrocketed, but Guy didn't point the gun at him. Instead he stood up, picking Tigger up with one hand around his waist as he dismounted the bike. "Stay here," he ordered as he deposited Tigger on the floor and headed down the hallway, gun still drawn.

Tigger watched in shock. Is there really something dangerous in my apartment? Or is he just psycho?

Suddenly Tigger had to pee really badly. Clutching his shredded jeans around his hips to keep from tripping over them, he followed Guy into the hallway. Chapter Three

Guy made his way quickly down the short hall, his senses on high alert. There were three doors, all open. The first led to a small bathroom. Guy didn't bother entering; glancing through the doorway it was easy to tell there was no one in there. He continued down the hall and looked through the door on the right. The hallway was dim and the room was dark. He couldn't detect the bitter odor that was distinctive to vampires and there were no unusual sounds coming from the room. "C19: Night vision," he said in a low voice. The indistinct objects in the room immediately took on detail: bed, dresser, closet. The room was a disaster—clothes strewn everywhere, books scattered across the bed, and not an inch of free space on the dresser or nightstand. Is this is Melvin's room? he wondered. The place is a sty. That boy needs some discipline.

After ascertaining that there was no one hiding in the closet, he started for the other room. He had just reached the hallway when he heard Melvin's voice, "You can't possibly see anything in the dark." Suddenly he was blinded with brightness as the hallway light came on. He cursed under his breath, quickly switching his night vision off by pressing an invisible sensor on the side of the smooth metal band that he wore on his wrist. He made short work of searching the third room, barely registering that it was neat as a pin. His brain was sizzling. He disobeyed a direct order! Not only that, he would have put both of us in mortal danger if the vampire had been here.

Mel was just heading into the bathroom when he pounced. He grabbed him by the shoulders, spun him around, and pushed him up against the wall, none too gently. "I told you to stay there," he snarled. "Why did you move?"

Huge pale eyes widened. Mel looked up at him in unhappy confusion. Guy could smell his fear, lending a disturbing nuance to the maddening pheromone that emanated from him. Mel's scent had been driving him to distraction since he'd met him. He didn't understand what there was about his specific smell that was so enticing.

"I..." Mel faltered.

Guy's anger vanished in the face of the Melvin's fright. He eased up on his grip, not letting go entirely. His voice was well-modulated when he said, "I told you to stay there for your own safety. You could have put both of us in grave danger by disobeying me."

"D ... danger?" Mel echoed, his eyes darting around anxiously.

Guy sighed and stepped back, relinquishing him. "There's no one here, but there could have been. From now on, if I tell you to do something, you do it immediately and without question. Do you understand?"

"Yes, sir," Mel said quietly, looking at the floor in apparent shame.

A shiver raced down Guy's spine followed by a strange prickly feeling on the back of his neck. He is perfect for me, he thought.

Huh? What the hell?

He responds so easily to my command tone, a natural submissive. Guy's inner alpha male was salivating.

But he's feisty and courageous too—not a wimp. Guy had seen tough guys—police officers, men who were used to dealing with death and ugliness on a daily basis—reduced to sniveling, shaking husks after less of an Encounter than the kid had experienced. Mel had been terrified, as any sane person would be, but he had recovered remarkably quickly.

When Guy had heard the bloodcurdling scream coming from the alley, he knew what was happening: his target had found his next victim. He had gone in without a second thought. His superiors were angry with him for blowing his cover—the vampire now knew he had a stalker and would probably disappear on a wisp of wind—but the thought of finding another mutilated body had been too much for Guy. And now that he'd met that next victim, he thanked God that he'd been in time to save him.

His first sight of Mel had shifted something in his soul. The youth had been huddled in the alley, his frightened eyes so large they seemed to consume his entire face, but the pureness of the spirit that had shone out of those amazing eyes had touched a tender place deep inside of him. An ache had formed in his chest, a craving so strong and instinctual that it enslaved him.

He wasn't just rescuing the next victim, he was rescuing a unusual, precious creature, whose very existence on earth was a miracle. In that first moment that he laid eyes on the pale youth, Guy had realized that his life was forfeit. Whatever it took to ensure the young man's survival, to ensure his happiness even, Guy would spend his last breath to purchase it.

He looked down at Mel now and couldn't deny that he was breathtaking: porcelain skin, pale aqua eyes, white-blonde hair, and an air of innocence that was truly rare. His body was exactly what Guy desired—small enough to fully enclose in his arms and protect, but well-proportioned and toned, not skinny. A fire erupted in his groin and he drew in a sharp breath.

Just then Melvin's lower lip started to quiver and he blinked rapidly. As quickly as it had flared up, Guy's anger was extinguished, washed away by shame. Oh, dear god, I've made him cry!

"I'm sorry, I didn't mean to scare you," he said softly.

"It's ... it's not that," Mel said. "It's...." He closed his eyes and swallowed. "My chest hurts." A tear leaked out and ran down his cheek.

Guy's eyes immediately swept down his torso which was still bare. He had noted the injury before, but it hadn't looked serious and he had focused instead on getting his charge out of immediate danger. The long scratch wasn't deep, but it was already starting to fester, the skin around it turning red and angry.

Damn! Vampire acid.

He grabbed Mel's arm and ushered him into the bathroom, settling him on the toilet seat lid. "Sit here. Don't move," he commanded. On his way out of the bathroom he flipped the light on. Going quickly to his bike, which was now taking up most of the main room in the tiny apartment, he opened the compartment on the back. His fingers flew as he rummaged through the contents. The longer the acid was on Mel's skin, the deeper it would bite and the more likely it would be to leave a scar. He couldn't stand the thought of that perfect creamy skin marred forever with an ugly gash.

*****

Tigger gritted his teeth against the gnawing pain in his chest. He wanted to claw at it with his fingers. It was getting worse by the minute; it felt like his blood was boiling and bubbling all along the cut.

He stood up suddenly, trying to get his mind off the pain. As soon as he was on his feet, he remembered he needed to pee. Taking Guy's jacket off, he laid it on the counter. Then he kicked off the shreds of his pants and underwear, barely remembering to retrieve his ID and cash from the pockets before dropping the discarded clothes into the wastebasket. They were followed by the tatters of his favorite shirt. Once he was naked, he had a brief panic attack, afraid that Guy would appear in the doorway any second. He grabbed his robe off the hook and quickly donned it, then he breathed a sigh of relief as he finally relieved his bladder.

"You don't follow orders very well."

Tigger jumped at the stern voice behind him. "I had to pee," he replied, trying to sound irritated. He wasn't sure why going against Guy's commands made him feel guilty. He doesn't own me. But the big man's resonant voice struck a chord deep within him, making him want to obey. He finished up quickly, wrapped the bathrobe tightly about himself again, and sat down on the toilet seat lid.

Guy's face was grim. "The longer that stuff is on your skin, the worse it's going to get," he said. He knelt in front of him and began taking things out of his first aid kit, laying them out on the counter.

"Wh ... what's making it feel like this?" Tigger asked, his fear flaring brightly as he remembered the blade slicing through his skin.

"It's acid," Guy replied. "A particularly strong, nasty acid. Don't worry," he continued when he saw Tigger's concerned expression, "I've got a cleanser that will neutralize it." He selected a bottle from the array of things he'd laid out, shook it for a few seconds, and held it up to the light, examining the contents.




Encounters with Evil Pt. 01



He then grabbed a towel off the nearby rack and laid it across Tigger's lap. "To catch the overspill," he explained as he pulled the top of Tigger's bathrobe apart, revealing his chest. Tigger watched Guy's dark eye linger on a nipple and could swear he saw a flare of lust. He was doubly glad for the towel across his hips; in spite of the pain, his cock was swelling under his robe.

Guy donned latex gloves and took the lid off the bottle he held, revealing a squirt top. The big man held the bottle an inch away from his skin at the top of the cut and froze.

After a few Tigger seconds asked, "What is it?"

"I don't want to hurt you, and I know this stuff is going to burn." Guy's voice was husky.

"It already burns," Tigger said. "Please, just do it."

Guy squirted.

Tigger screamed and grabbed Guy's hand, yanking it away from his chest. He had thought the pain was bad before, but when the chemical in Guy's bottle reacted with the acid on his skin the resulting fire was so intense he felt like he was being branded with a hot iron. Pink foam erupted from the top of his chest where the stream of cleanser had hit. Guy mopped at it with the towel. Tigger's shrill scream turned to gasps and moans as the agony started to wane.

"Oh my god! Oh my god!" came dribbling out of Tigger's mouth. He'd never in his life experienced such intense pain.

"I'm sorry." Guy stroked Tigger's hair away from his face with gentle fingers. "I know it hurts."

"No kidding!" Tigger panted. "Oh my god! I don't think I can do this." Droplets of sweat had burst out across his forehead and chest.

Guy frowned. "I'd take you to the hospital where they can anesthetize you to clean it out, but they don't have experience with this type of acid. I'm sure they don't have the proper chemicals to counteract it, and I don't think they'd agree to take this unlabeled bottle from me and pour it all over you."

"Maybe you could knock me out with one of those darts?" Tigger suggested.

Guy's expression hardened. "You saw that, huh?"

"Well, yeah. I was right there."

"Getting hit with a dart like that would kill you. I could lower the dosage, but I don't know how much you'd need. It would be too dangerous."

"I guess it takes something really powerful to knock out a vampire," Tigger said, prodding for information. Now that he was in his own home with all the lights on, he felt able to talk about his experience, and in spite of the pain he was in, his head was reeling with questions.

"You were drunk," Guy said dryly. "I think your imagination is getting away from you."

"Bullshit!" The word came exploding out of Tigger's mouth as his temper flared. He knows very well what I saw. He came prepared with weapons and chemicals to deal with the demon, for god's sake. How dare he act like I don't know what I'm talking about. "I know what I saw," Tigger said flatly, daring Guy to disagree again.

Guy glared at him for a long moment. Tigger met that intense stare with one of his own. Finally the big man sighed and said, "Look, it's best if you don't tell anyone. In fact, it's important that you—" He broke off in mid sentence, jerking his head up and cocking it to one side, listening. In a flash he was on his feet, gun drawn. He flipped the bathroom light off as he poked his head around the doorjamb, looking toward the main room, gun at the ready.

Tigger's heart started pounding in his chest. Here we go again. There was a knock on the front door. Guy disappeared and Tigger stood up to peek out of the bathroom. Guy was already at the door. He glanced back at Tigger and motioned him forward.

Tigger approached with some trepidation. When he reached the big man's side, Guy leaned over and whispered in his ear, "I think it's an old lady."

Mrs. McGruder, Tigger guessed. But how the hell does he know that? Tigger looked at Guy sharply. He had taken up a position to the side of the door where he'd be hidden when it was opened. His athletic body was poised for action, his gun was held just so, his expression was intense; he looked every inch the action hero.

Tigger steeled himself to face his next door neighbor, the old busybody. She had probably heard him scream and thought it was her business to investigate. He pulled his robe more tightly about himself, making sure that the soft fabric covered his cut completely—no reason to give Mrs. McGruder any more fodder for her rumor mill. He glanced ruefully at the motorcycle in the middle of his living room before he cracked the door open a few inches and peered out.

Flint-gray eyes scrutinized him from a broad wrinkled face. Mrs. McGruder was a little shorter than his own five four, but she seemed to peer down on him imperiously. She was wearing a fluffy pink robe that did nothing to hide her considerable girth. Her matching slippers had beady little eyes and floppy bunny ears.

"I heard a scream," Mrs. McGruder said in an accusing tone. "I almost called the police, but I know how you homosexual boys are. You're probably just having wild sex. I've heard noises coming from your apartment before."

Tigger choked in surprise and felt heat flushing his face. Mrs. McGruder knows we're gay? It figures. Jon's bedroom butted up against the old lady's apartment and his roommate was not known for his temperance. He would have to warn Jon before he brought home his next lover. Now Guy knew he was gay too. Conservative police-type guys—he didn't know what Guy was, but he had that aura—generally weren't sympathetic to gays. He hoped that Guy would at least not be hostile.

"I ... er ... sorry, I was having a bad dream," he said to Mrs. McGruder.

She looked him up and down with eyes that didn't miss a hair. "I'll bet," she snapped. "I'm trying to sleep, so you keep it down in here or I will call the police!"

Ugh! I had to get the neighbor from hell, didn't I? In spite of the fact that Tigger was quiet, reserved, and polite, Mrs. McGruder never had a kind word for him. Just then the pain in his chest flared brightly. He suppressed a gasp. "Good night Mrs. McGruder," he said firmly, and closed the door in her face. So much for polite.

He turned to Guy to find him glaring at him. "You have guys over here a lot?" he asked, his voice clipped. The gun was back in its holster.

What? That was not what Tigger had expected him to say. "No, I nev—" He stopped in mid-sentence. I don't need to explain myself to some bigot who I just met. "It's none of your business," he said instead, putting as much scorn into his voice as he could.

Guy's glare was immediately replaced by a smirk, and then he was all business again. "Let's get you taken care of. The longer that stuff stays on, the more damage it will do."

Tigger was suddenly aware of how painful his chest had become and he found himself blinking back tears. "Yeah, it really hurts," he admitted.

"I'd like to do it as quickly as possible, but if you fight me, it's going to take a lot longer. Do you think you can control yourself?"

Tigger shuddered, remembering the nightmare of pain. "No," he admitted.

"How about I tie you up? Then I can get it over with without any fuss."

"Tie ... tie...?" Tigger's brain was having a hard time grasping the concept, but his cock was already swelling. He swallowed hard. "Okay, let's do it."

Guy was at his bike in a flash, pulling a neatly tied bundle of rope out of the back compartment.

Who carries rope around with them? "You come prepared, I see," he said.

"I was a boy scout," Guy replied without cracking a smile. He grabbed a ladder back chair from their small dining area and carried it into the bathroom. Tigger followed, his heart beating madly and his half-hard cock bouncing happily under his robe.

By the time Guy was finished tying him up, his cock was rock hard and he was glad he'd covered his lap with the towel again. His pain was almost forgotten in the excitement of having his limbs tied down. Guy was efficient. Both of his ankles were tied securely to the chair legs, "so that you won't tip it over," Guy had explained. His arms were stretched behind him, but not painfully so, and tied to the back of the chair.

"Are you comfortable?" Guy asked. "The rope is not biting into your skin, is it?"

"No ... no I'm good," Tigger replied, shamefully noting how husky his voice sounded. Damn! He's going to figure out how turned on I am. Being tied down was featured prominently in his sexual fantasies. He'd never gotten to play that particular one out—he'd never gotten to play most of them out—but reality was even better than fantasy, in spite of their current situation not being sexual. He could feel the rope binding him, making him helpless, and for some reason that caused heat to flush his body. He could feel his nipples stiffening as his groin began to ache. It was all he could do not to beg, "Please sir, fuck my mouth with your big hard cock."

That thought had Tigger's eyes flitting involuntarily to Guy's crotch. Another bright wave of desire washed over him as he saw the real-life outline of the imagined hard cock behind Guy's tight black jeans. He was standing so close, Tigger could smell his heady musk. His eyes slowly travelled up the tight, muscular body, past the impossibly cut pecs that he remembered feeling under his cheek during the motorcycle ride, up past a stubbled, cleft chin and wide kissable lips, to look into a warm brown eye that was regarding him with a mixture of concern and desire.

I love you. Tigger bit his lip—hard. What the hell? I don't love him. I don't even know him. Tigger did know that at that moment, he would have done anything Guy asked. This man was his wet dream personified. I've got to be mistaken about "the desire in his eyes" part. This man is not gay and he's going to kick my ass if I start lusting all over him. I need to tell him to get on with it.

To Tigger's horror, what came out of his mouth instead was, "I think you'd better gag me too, sir."

Guy smirked. "Oh, you think so?"

Tigger could swear Guy was flirting with him. "I ... uh ... I wouldn't want Mrs. McGruder calling the police." He hated how flustered he sounded, and he could feel heat creeping up his neck.

Without delay, Guy pulled a clean washcloth off the shelf and carefully stuffed it into Tigger's mouth so it was just full, leaving the edges trailing out. "Is that okay?" he asked. "It's not choking you is it?"

Tigger shook his head.

Guy produced a bandana from the pocket of his jacket and tied the washcloth securely in place. He pulled Tigger's robe apart again, revealing his chest, then he eyed Tigger critically for a few moments. Tigger was sure he saw something predatory sparking in Guy's dark eye.

"I need to clean it until it quits foaming. Let me apologize in advance because I know this is going to hurt like hell. I'm not going to give you a safe signal because we need to just get this over with and that would delay things. I'm going to go as fast as I can. Are you ready?"

Tigger tried to swallow around the gag in his throat. Suddenly this wasn't sexy any more, it was damn scary. He thought about shaking his head no, but the flames on his chest were already driving him out of his mind. He caught Guy's sympathetic eye and nodded.

The next five minutes were the worst in Tigger's life. He screamed and screamed, but the gag effectively muffled his cries. His chest bubbled and foamed. He felt like his skin was being peeled off in long slow strips. He had never experienced such pain—not even anything close.

Guy spoke to him in a soothing voice the whole while, telling him how brave he was and how well he was doing. He didn't feel like he was doing well. He didn't have any choice but to sit there and take it. He strained against his bonds, wanting nothing more than to make that horrible pain stop. If he'd been able to talk he would have cussed Guy up one side and down the other, but even without the gag, talking would not have been possible—only screaming.

Finally the foaming subsided and with it the pain. Guy continued to squirt cleanser on his skin and sometimes there would be a flare up, but as the acid was washed away, the burn eased. As soon as his brain was not consumed with the white noise of agony, he became aware of his stomach churning. He felt saliva drool out of the corner of his mouth and down his chin. He tried taking deep breaths to calm himself, but he couldn't control his body's reaction.

His eyes widened as he realized he was going to throw up with the gag still in his mouth. He tossed his head back and forth and made a desperate sound in the back of his throat. Guy continued to talk soothingly to him, not seeming to realize his predicament.

Bile came up the back of his throat and had no where to go. Some of it came out of his nose, the rest clogged his throat choking off his breath. He made a gagging sound before his airway was cut off completely.

Luckily that was enough for Guy to realize what was happening. He had the handkerchief off and the gag out of his mouth in a flat second. Stepping behind him, he picked him up, chair and all, and turn him over so his face was toward the floor. Tigger began coughing and choking and spitting. More bile came out, but his time it had someplace to go—all over the bathroom floor. Blessedly, there wasn't much in his stomach anymore.

"I'm so sorry. I'm sorry," Guy said. "I should have realized this might happen. I'm sorry." As he spoke, Guy undid the ties binding his hands, still holding him suspended upside down with one arm, as if Tigger weighed nothing. As soon as his hands were free, Tigger reached toward the toilet, and Guy stepped forward so he could open the lid. His stomach was empty though. He spit a few times into the porcelain bowl and that was all.

"You done for now?" Guy asked.

Tigger nodded. His nose burned, his mouth tasted horrible, and tears were streaming out of his eyes. He couldn't seem to stop them.

Guy set the chair back down on the floor and untied Tigger's ankles. Then he wet a washcloth and washed Tigger's face gently. Tigger sat there in a daze. As soon as Guy was finished, he gathered him into his arms, still murmuring apologies.

The horror of his experience with the vampire had frayed Tigger's nerves raw. That followed by an interlude of extreme pain, not to mention the vestiges of alcohol that still coursed through his veins, combined to unravel the last of his self-control. He wrapped his arms around Guy's neck, buried his face in the big man's strong chest, and sobbed as if the world was ending.

Guy stroked his back and whispered apologies and encouragement, into his ear.

Tigger wasn't sure how long he cried, but eventually his tears ran dry. His breathing was still ragged, his breath hitching as he tried to calm himself. Settling down he realized Guy was siting in the chair and he was curled up on his lap. When his mind finally engaged, he was flooded with embarrassment.

"I'm sorry," he gasped out, pulling his face away from Guy's now damp chest, but not having the courage to look at Guy. Instead he busied himself wiping off his face with the sleeve of his bathrobe. "I haven't cried like that since I was little."

"It's okay," Guy said, his voice husky. "I'm sorry I put you through so much pain. How does your chest feel now?"

"Pretty much like someone sliced it open from neck to naval, but it doesn't burn anymore." Tigger started to climb off Guy's lap but the big man stopped him by grabbing his arm gently. Tigger's eyes flashed to his face curiously. Guy was staring at him. His fingers reached out and brushed over his cheek.

"Did he touch you with the knife on your face?"

"Yes," Tigger answered, realizing that his cheek burned where the blade had touched it. As soon as his brain processed this, he noticed that the base of his neck burned as well, but the underside of his balls were what caused him to draw in a sharp breath.

Guy already had the bottle out, and before Tigger could even steel himself against the pain, was squirting some on his cheek. In spite of himself, Tigger jerked his head back. He could feel the chemical bubbling on his skin, but the burn was not nearly so bad as it had been on his chest.

Guy wiped the area clean with the corner of the towel he used earlier. "Where else?" He demanded.

Tigger indicated his neck, and Guy gave it the same treatment as his cheek.

"Anywhere else?"

Even though Tigger had anticipated that question, he couldn't stop the blush that climbed his cheeks. "I think I'd better wash it myself," he said. He watched Guy's jaw clench and fire flare in his eye.

"Did he cut you?"

"No. He...." As Tigger remembered the experience of being toyed with by the vampire, his heart started racing. A heavy band wrapped painfully around his chest and he couldn't take a breath. His eyes widened in panic.

"Calm down. You're safe now. I won't let anything hurt you." Guy rubbed Tigger's back with tender hands. "Breathe," he ordered.

Tigger closed his eyes and focused on breathing and clearing his mind. He was still sitting in Guy's lap and he felt safe and protected—like nothing could ever touch him if he was with Guy. He's strong but gentle. Just what I've been looking for. Those thoughts had him climbing quickly out of Guy's lap.

"I'm okay now," he asserted to Guy's grunt of protest. "And I can wash myself off."

Guy looked at him for a moment, assessing him. Seeming to be satisfied with Tigger's condition, he handed him the bottle of cleanser. "Do a thorough job of it," he instructed, "then take a shower."

"Let me get something to wear," Tigger said, heading out of the bathroom while Guy squatted and began using the soiled towel to wipe up the mess Tigger had made. When he returned a few minutes later, T-shirt, underwear, and lounge pants in hand, he discovered Guy depositing the towel he'd been using into a large plastic bag.

"I hope you're not overly fond of this towel," he said. "I'm afraid that acid doesn't wash out well. I'll take it with me and dispose of it properly." He pulled Tigger's discarded clothes out of the trashcan and put them in the bag as well followed by the latex gloves he was wearing. "Put your bathrobe in here too, when you take it off, then be sure and wash your hands with some of that cleanser."

"I need a new bathrobe anyway," Tigger said, "but the towel belongs to my roommate. I guess I'll have to confess I ruined it."

"Your roommate ... is he?" Guy broke off, looking embarrassed, but his eye drilled into Tigger as if he could glean the answer to his unasked question by sifting through his thoughts.

"We're just friends," Tigger said, guessing what Guy's question might have been. Why does he care?

Guy's nod was curt but Tigger noticed an almost imperceptible shift in his shoulders that signaled he was satisfied with Tigger's response.

"Use this cream on your injuries once you've dried off. And reapply it every few hours." Guy set an unlabeled plastic jar on the counter and started to leave the bathroom.

Is he leaving? Dismay washed over Tigger. It wasn't that he was scared to be alone, he just didn't want Guy to walk out of his life, never to see him again. "Will you stay?" he asked, his voice sounding a little too shrill. "I ... I mean just until I get out of the shower."

"Of course, if that's what you want."

Tigger nodded, embarrassed by his request. Ugh! I am not falling for a straight guy, am I? No! That is so not happening again. His ex obviously hadn't been completely straight, but Tigger couldn't help feeling that if he'd been a girl, he wouldn't have been tossed so carelessly aside. With the memory of his previous heartbreak fresh in his mind, he closed the door firmly behind Guy. Even though he knew Guy could pick it two seconds, he pressed the lock. Chapter Four




Encounters with Evil Pt. 01



Guy perused Tigger's main room with the thoroughness he usually reserved for a crime scene. There really wasn't much to see: odds and ends of mismatched furniture, including a couch that was covered in a horrible pink flowered slipcover. There was some interesting artwork on the wall—charcoal drawings of nude males, mostly unframed. They had the requisite entertainment setup with an old-style TV, DVD-player, and gaming console. They had a few CDs, most from bands he'd never heard of with covers that featured club-scene people. I'm too old for him, he thought with regret.

He tried the to steer his mind in a different direction, wishing not to think about the possibilities at all, but some hopeful part of him persisted. He's twenty-one. I'm not that much older than he is. Guy was twenty-nine, but sometimes he felt like Methuselah. He'd already lived through enough pain for six lifetimes. And that is why I can't get involved, he told himself. I will just bring him heartbreak, and he deserves someone who will love and cherish him—someone who will be here for him for a long time. That's not me. A great ache of loneliness and want welled in his chest. He sucked in a painful breath, feeling suddenly disoriented.

It doesn't do any good to want what you can't have. Put it aside, he told himself sternly. Pulling his familiar mantle of detached coolness around himself, he continued his perusal of Tigger's apartment. They had all the usual PS3 games: Grand Theft Auto, Tomb Raider, Call of Duty, and so on. There was a dirty sock—neon green and pink striped—peeking out from under the couch. The coffee table was strewn with magazines: GQ, Alternative Press, and a collection of gossip rags. There was also a bottle of blue nail polish on the end table. Nail polish?

Guy moved on to the kitchen area, which was spotless. He was just about to help himself to a glass of water when his augmented hearing picked up the sound of someone coming down the hallway. He was at the door in a second, dart gun drawn and ear to the door. It's not the vamp, his senses told him; the footsteps were too faltering—not the quiet glide of a vampire. He slipped the gun back into its holster as the footsteps stopped in front of the door and keys jangled. He could see the heat signature of a small person through the thick door and he caught a faint whiff of men's cologne, alcohol, and sweat. Tigger's roommate, obviously.

Guy stood off to the side where he wouldn't be immediately visible when the door opened.

"Tigger!" the roommate called loudly as he opened the door. "Tig—Oh!" The door swung shut as the young man came to an abrupt halt in front of the Harley. Guy took in his view of the boy's backside: a beautifully rounded butt in very tight low slung jeans, a tank top that was short enough to reveal an inch of gorgeous mahogany skin above his waistband, and shoulders and arms that were thin but not bony. His jet black hair was jelled into spikes with white-blond tips.

"TIG-GER!" the roommate shrilled as he draped the jean jacket he was carrying over the back of the couch.

Guy cleared his throat and the delicate young man jumped, startled, and then whirled to face Guy. His big brown eyes widened and he caught his breath. He reminded Guy of a startled rabbit, ready to take flight.

"Tigger is in the shower," Guy said in a low voice. Just then, as if to punctuate his words, the sound of the shower running shut off. "My name's Guy." Guy put out his hand.

"Oh," the young man said. His expressive face was an open book. Guy watched his fear give way to relief, and then as he thought about the information Guy had just given him, he said, "Oh!" again in surprise.

He's wondering what I'm doing here and why Tigger's in the shower, Guy thought. And he's drunk. He's also very beautiful in an erotic, exotic way—he's even tinier than Melvin.

The young man recovered himself and remembered his manners. "I'm Jon, Tigger's roommate." He put a cool hand in Guy's while he looked him up and down. Clearly he liked what he saw—his heat signature increased and his pupils dilated slightly. His tongue dipped out and licked his sensual lower lip, a move that was both highly erotic and seemingly natural.

"So ... Guy..." His voice was a purr. The handshake was over but instead of pulling his hand back, the young man let his fingers trail up Guy's arm, sliding them slowly over the pulse point on his wrist, then tracing the vein that ran up his forearm. Guy noted that his fingernails were blue. The young man looked up at Guy coyly from under thick dark lashes. "Are you, um, available?"

Guy didn't need to ask, "available for what?" It was clear from Jon's provocative stance and the way his gaze shifted to Guy's crotch what he wanted. Guy felt heat spike in his own body. Oh yeah! This one would be fun. And much less complicated than Melvin. He was just the kind of effeminate young man Guy usually picked up on the rare occasions that he went clubbing—someone who would have no expectations for more than a few hours of hot, steamy sex.

Guy heard the bathroom door open and Mel bounded into the room. "Hey, Jon," he called out before he'd taken two steps. Then he came to an abrupt halt, taking in their proximity and body language. For a brief moment such pain flashed in his eyes that it seemed he might be drowning. It was worse than when Guy had been pouring chemicals on the vampire acid on his chest. It was a deep emotional pain, like that caused by the loss of something cherished or a monumental humiliation. Seeing Mel's hurt caused a physical reaction in Guy; pain exploded across his chest. He jumped away from Jon, pulling his arm back as if he'd been burned.

Guy stared at Melvin as if seeing him for the first time. And I thought Jon was beautiful, he thought. No, he corrected himself, Jon is indeed beautiful. But looking at them side-by-side, Jon's dark sultriness didn't hold a candle to Mel's fair grace. Melvin's porcelain skin shone, and his light-blond locks, dark with dampness, had been combed back from his exquisite, fine-boned face. His unusual eyes, pale as sea foam, were framed by thick blond lashes. He only needed white feathery wings to complete his ethereal look. Guy drew in a ragged breath, suddenly feeling dizzy.

"I see you've met Guy," Mel said. The pain in his eyes had been replaced by fire and his voice had an edge to it.

Jon had turned to face his friend, and now he came to him, wrapping him into a tight hug. "Thank God you're okay! I was so worried about you. When I checked my phone I had a text from you that made no sense whatsoever and then you called but didn't leave a message. And after that—nothing. We found your jacket still over the back of your chair in the club, be we couldn't find you anywhere. I've been calling and calling, but you haven't answered."

He pulled away from Melvin and glanced between him and Guy. "I guess you've been busy." His tone suggested that they'd been doing much more than talking.

"Calling?" Mel asked, frowning. "I haven't heard my phone ring. I haven't even seen my phone since..." He broke off, dismay clouding his fair features. "It was in my pocket." He turned and raced into the bathroom. "It's not here!" they heard him cry.

Jon followed him into the bathroom and Guy tailed along behind, halting at the door. Melvin was holding his shredded jeans, looking like his world was ending. "I can't have lost my phone," he moaned. "It's my life."

"My lord, Tigger! What happened to your jeans?" Jon was staring at the tatters in Mel's hands. "How—?" He spun around then and set a caustic gaze on Guy.

"I was attacked on the way home," Mel hastened to explain. "Guy rescued me."

"Attacked?" Jon voiced his shock.

"Yeah, by a vam—"

"Melvin!" Guy's sharp tone cut him off.

Just then the opening bars of a rap song filled the small room. Jon whipped his phone out of his pocket and glanced at the display. "Oh my god! I forgot all about Paul." He pressed talk and put the phone to his ear as he exited the bathroom. "Yes, he's here. Yes, he's fine ... well, maybe..."

As soon as Jon was out of earshot, Guy spoke to Mel in a low, harsh tone. "You need to forget about what you saw. It was nothing more than a man with a knife. Don't tell anyone anything different."

Mel's eyes widened and he looked like he was about to protest.

"This is important!" Guy hissed. "You can't tell anyone what you think you saw. If you do, you will bring no end of grief down on yourself. Do you understand?"

Mel stared at him in silence for a few long moments while Guy tried to bore into his mind to impress upon him how critical it was that he tell no one. If his employers found out what he had seen, they would try to recruit him—or worse.

Finally Mel nodded. "I doubt anyone would believe me anyway, I was pretty drunk."

"Very," Guy agreed. "Now put your pants back in the bag and wash your hands."

"So, you're what? A cop? FBI?" Mel looked at him expectantly.

Guy knew these questions had been brewing, that it was only a matter of time before he was inundated with them. He didn't talk about his job to anyone. Ever. "No," he replied shortly. Seeing that Mel was about to press him, he spun on his heel and made his way out to the front room.

Jon was on the couch, just ending his phone conversation. The young man looked up at him and smiled, glowing. He exuded a sensuality that seemed as natural to him as breathing. As he took a breath, Guy realized he was about to launch into an inquisition even more pressing than Mel's.

Guy's defense was a fierce glower. Jon's great dark eyes widened and whatever he'd been about to say never made it off his tongue. They stared at each other in awkward silence for several long moments before Mel came into the room.

"I can't believe I lost my phone!" he whined, dropping onto the couch next to Jon. "My parents are going to kill me for losing another one. Actually, they said they wouldn't replace it if I lost it again and I'll die without a phone! I know it was in my back pocket. It must have fallen out somewhere along the way."

"I'll retrace our steps and look for it for you," Guy offered. He thought it most likely that it had fallen out of his pocket in the alley, in which case it would be irretrievable.

"Could you?" Mel's eyes were imploring.

How could I not? "Of course."

Guy wandered into the kitchen area, wanting that glass of water. The open design of the room allowed him to observe the boys while he filled water glasses. They were quite the pair: light and dark, yin and yang, innocence and sin.

"You were attacked?" Jon asked, his big brown eyes rounder than usual.

"Yeah—some dude with a knife. See?" Tigger pulled up his T-shirt to show Jon his cut.

"Oh my God, Tigger!" Jon squealed. "Oh my God! Are you okay? Do you need to go to the hospital?"

"No, no, I'm fine. It's not deep. Guy got there just in time and he fixed me up."

Guy had filled water glasses for the two of them and now he handed them out. "Drink lots of water before you go to bed," he ordered. "You both have too much alcohol in your system."

The boys murmured thanks and dutifully took long pulls of their water.

Guy fixed a stern eye on Melvin. "You shouldn't drink at all if you run to excess like this. It's dangerous to drink so much—you lose your ability to make rational decisions. You make dangerous choices."

"Like bringing you home?" Jon asked slyly.

"He didn't have a choice about that," Guy snapped, "but walking down a dark alley in the middle of the night was a bad choice."

Mel shivered and Jon put an arm around his shoulders, giving him a quick hug. The blond snuggled against him. Even though there were no sexual overtones to their actions, something deep inside of Guy protested. That's my job. I should be the one holding and comforting him. He's mine!

What the hell? Guy thought. I need to get out of here. The boy is driving me seriously bonkers. "You'll be okay now?" Guy asked. He stepped over to his bike and pulled his helmet out of the back.

Mel nodded. "You're leaving?" His voice quavered slightly.

Guy looked at him curiously. Mel swallowed and then he smiled at him sweetly. Guy's heart melted. For some reason, it was hard to walk away from him. A small panic started in Guy's gut. If he's already affecting me like this and I've only known him a few hours, what kind of hold is he going to have on me if see him again? Best for everyone to end things now before they get started.

"Yeah, I've got to go," Guy said, glancing out the window. "It's light out now. You'll be okay." He put on his helmet but raised the faceplate.

Melvin was up, standing a few feet in front of him, looking up at him with big, wistful eyes. Damn! "Will I see you again?" he asked.

The first thing that popped into Guy's mind was that if he did see Mel again, it would most likely be as a corpse. That image was so horrifying that "God, I hope not!" flew out of his mouth without sensor

Hurt flashed across Mel's expressive face and a pain so acute as to take his breath away shredded through Guy's gut. He backtracked quickly. "I didn't mean it like that. I ... I just thought the most likely situation for me to see you is if you got attacked again, and I wouldn't want that."

Mel nodded, his expression now carefully guarded. "Thank you for saving me," he said quietly. There was something vulnerable in his voice—something tender and exposed. It called to Guy, begging him not to leave. Guy clenched his fist, pushing his emotions down, fighting his every instinct that told him to stay and protect.

"You take better care of yourself." His eyes flicked to Jon. "Both of you."

"Yes, sir," Mel said and a shiver went up Guy's spine. He's perfect, the voice in the back of head told him again. It would be disastrous, he reminded himself firmly. He wheeled his bike to the door. Mel jumped to open it for him.

As he pushed the bike out he paused in front of Melvin, breathing deeply of the young man's sweet scent. Without any direction from his brain, his hand came up and touched Mel's pale cheek tenderly. "Good-bye," he said, his voice rough with emotion. What is wrong with me? He couldn't deny that he had a lump in his throat.

Mel's eyes were enormous. He blinked and swallowed.

Turning and walking away was one of the hardest things Guy had ever done. And that scared the hell out of him.

"Good luck, sir," Mel called after him as he wheeled his bike onto the elevator. The doors swished shut behind him and he let out a huge sigh. His hands were trembling. What the hell has gotten into me? Chapter Five

Tigger stared morosely at the wall behind the television set, ignoring the rerun of NCIS that was playing out in front of him. He had an unrelenting ache in the pit of his stomach.

What the hell? I feel almost as bad as when Harold dumped me. Tigger was not used to being depressed. Normally, other than the cynical voice in his head that liked to chime in occasionally with dreary platitudes, he was a cheerful person. He lived his life moment-to-moment and didn't dwell on an uncertain future. As far as his past, his childhood had been almost ideal—nothing to stew over there. With the exception of his parents' divorce when he was twelve, he'd had no major bad experiences. Even the divorce hadn't been so bad. Both parents had stayed close to him, offering love and support, and once he and his sister had gotten used to shuttling weekly between their residences, his spirits had recovered.

It hadn't been easy to come to terms with being gay—even now he occasionally wished he wasn't—but he'd survived it relatively unscathed. High school had been a little difficult because he wasn't in the "in" crowd and so wanted to be, but he'd had his group of friends who shared his passions for science, computers, video games, and comics. For the most part, he was shy and sheltered but happy.

So it was unsettling for him to feel despondent, and he didn't understand why. At first he thought it was just the aftermath of being attacked. The encounter with the vampire was enough to have unhinged anyone. But as the hours went by, he thought less and less about the demon and more and more about Guy. It had only been one day—correction: thirty-four hours—since Guy had left, but during that time he'd already jacked off four times to vivid fantasies of his dream guy tying him up and taking him. He couldn't seem to get Guy out of his head and it was pointless to think about him. He had no way to contact him—he didn't even know his last name. He would probably never see him ever again. Why am I still thinking about him? Why is there an ache in my heart as if part of me is missing?

Vampire aside, Guy was the most exciting thing that had ever happened to him. He couldn't forget what Guy looked like and what he'd felt like during that wild motorcycle ride. He went over in his head everything Guy had said and done during the time they'd been together. He didn't think it was his imagination: Guy was larger than life. There were even things he'd done that bordered on supernatural. Even if he disregarded his first impression that Guy couldn't possibly be human because he moved too fast—perhaps that had been his mind playing tricks on him because of his terror—there were still a number of unexplained incidents. For example, Guy had known someone was coming to the front door well before Mrs. McGruder knocked. How could he have known? He also knew Mrs. Gruder was an old lady before he opened the door. There is something extraordinary about him other than his godlike good looks.

I guess I'll never find out what.

He forced himself to focus on the television set, rolling his eyes as McGee pressed a few keys on his computer and, voila, had the answer to a search that in real life would have taken days if not weeks to perform. He had given up on studying; his mind was wandering too much to even start to comprehend quantum mechanics. He'd hoped that he'd be able to immerse himself in some mindless television, but that was proving to be a struggle too.

Jon sauntered into the room, dressed in skinny jeans, short boots, and a tight white T-shirt that read, "Real men eat meat." Tigger had always thought the T-shirt was ironic because Jon was a vegetarian. When he'd asked about it, Jon had replied, "not that kind of meat," which had caused Tigger to blush to the roots of his hair. Now he couldn't see that T-shirt without smiling.

"Are you sure you don't want to come with?" Jon asked, looking Tigger up and down. By the expression on his face, he clearly disapproved of Tigger's current state. He was dressed in baggy gray sweats and a ragged T-shirt and, without looking, he could tell his hair was sticking up every which direction. "Are you still moping?" Jon sat next to him and patted his knee.

"I'm not moping. I just need to study."

"I can't believe you're taking summer classes," Jon said, his voice taking on a tinge of whine. "I mean, I'm an art major and even I decided I needed a break over the summer." This was not the first time Jon had told him this. In fact, every time he brought up his classes, Jon complained. He suspected that his friend felt guilty because he should have been taking summer classes himself in order to graduate on time.

"I know. I'm a hopeless geek."

"Don't study too hard," Jon teased, his eyes flicking to the television. He paused for a moment to watch a scene where Michael Weatherly took off his shirt. "I see you won't," he added dryly. "If you change your mind about joining us, just call and we can meet up."




Encounters with Evil Pt. 01



"I don't have—"

"Oh, damn! Sorry, honey. I forgot about your phone." Jon rubbed his thigh comfortingly. He was always touchy-feely. "You sure you don't want to come?"

"Yes, I'm sure," Tigger replied. Shopping with Jon was the last thing he wanted to do at the moment. He didn't feel like socializing, and Jon always talked him into spending money he didn't have. "I need to go into work at five anyway."

"You're working tonight? I'll see if I can talk Leon into coming in for dinner."

Tigger had a part time job waiting tables at the Deluxe Bar and Grill on Broadway. It was a fun little restaurant and usually packed on the weekends. "Sunday night the wait shouldn't be too bad," Tigger said, "especially if you come in after eight."

"Okay, love, I've got to go." Jon gave him a quick hug and a peck on the cheek before jumping to his feet and sailing out the door.

Half an hour later, after having done little more than obsess over how perfect Guy was and how horrible it was that he would never see him again, Tigger finally roused himself to take a shower. I'll feel better when I'm clean, he told himself.

*****

Guy stared intently at the five-story apartment building. More specifically, he stared at a couple of the windows on the second floor in the back of the apartment building. He wished he had X-ray vision so he could see through the walls to what the occupants were doing. His heat vision didn't work from so far away and he was afraid to go closer for fear someone would notice him. That someone being Mel. He didn't want to look like a stalker-loser.

He clenched his fists and took a deep breath. It felt like his insides were crawling with beetles. His skin was uncomfortably tight. He couldn't remember ever feeling like this—consumed with a restlessness that was eating him alive—and it had something to do with Melvin. He could not get the boy out of his head. It was as if he'd become instantly addicted. He had a physical need to be near him that only grew more agonizing with each passing hour.

Damn! I'm really going to do this, aren't I?

He had spent the last day and a half arguing with himself. When he'd left Mel's apartment his mind had been made up: he wouldn't see him again. He knew it was best for both of them if they didn't get involved. But that had been his head's decision. He hadn't accounted for this driving, aching need that was burning him up inside.

He had gone round and round with his thoughts. During the night he'd almost become sick to his stomach with worry over Melvin. It had gotten so bad that he'd finally left his stakeout of the vampire's lair and had gone to watch Melvin's apartment instead. It was crazy. I am crazy.

Try as he might, he could not rid himself of the senseless fear that somehow the demon would find Melvin and finish what he'd started. He'd told himself that that would be impossible. He knew that once a vampire had picked a target they tended to become obsessed with that person and would pursue them relentlessly—irrationally—until they'd had their fill. For the vampire's victim, that meant torture and death. There is no way he can find him, Guy told himself for the thousandth's time. He could not have tailed us on the freeway even if I hadn't thrown the chemical bomb to disorient him. There is just no way he'll be able to find him in a city this size.

That line of thought was logical, but somehow it wasn't comforting. It didn't ease the growing turmoil in his gut. Only physical proximity to Melvin seemed to do that, and now he had a plan to get even closer. His palms itched in anticipation even as his mouth went dry.

When he'd thought about how flimsy the lock on Mel's door was, an idea had taken shape. He'd convinced himself that it would be a tragedy to save Mel from the vampire, only to have some scumbag break into his apartment and accost him. And from what he'd gathered of Jon's lifestyle, he might attract that kind of unwanted attention. He had seen Jon leave a bit earlier. He'd read his T-shirt with his distance vision, and it had confirmed his opinion that Jon was a sexy little vixen who was too flirtatious for his own good.

It's the right thing to do, he told himself. After I fix their door, I'll quit worrying about them. I'll be able to get on with my normal life. Best to get this over with now. He had already told himself that six times. His stomach flip-flopped again and sweat broke out across his brow. This time he roused himself, grabbed his equipment and his purchases from the hardware store, and stepped out of his car.

He was happy to see that the lock on the back door of the apartment building was more secure than the front door lock. It took him almost forty-five seconds to pick it, and if it hadn't been for his enhanced hearing, he wasn't sure that he'd have been able to. However, vampires had supernatural hearing too, and they were undead so long that they had time to learn useful skills, like lock-picking. The lock he'd bought for Mel's apartment door was almost pick-proof. It was the best he could find.

When he got to the second floor, he heard the sound of the shower running in Mel's place. This immediately conjured up an image of Mel, naked and wet, and his cock sprang to life. He gritted his teeth. Stop it! he ordered himself. He'd already masturbated three times to visions of the beautiful boy tied up and writhing beneath him. It was bad enough that he was obsessed with Mel's security, he didn't need to be drooling over his sexy little body as well.

Once at the apartment door, he efficiently picked the lock and set about installing the new deadbolt. He had expected Mel to hear him running his drill and come tearing out the shower, but just before he started drilling his boy started singing in the shower at the top of his lungs. He smiled to himself as he worked, listening to Mel's slightly off-key rendition of "Brick House" in which he was clearly substituting male pronouns for the female ones.

*****

Tigger did feel better once he was standing under the warm spray. He considered jacking himself off, which immediately brought Guy to mind. No! he told himself. I will not torture myself with this. Instead he washed himself thoroughly and started to sing one of his favorite shower songs. He didn't feel like singing, but he usually sang in the shower and thought if he forced himself to do normal things, his world would right itself.

He had gone through two songs and was contemplating which seventies dance tune to sing next when he heard an odd whirring sound coming from the front of the apartment. His blood froze in his veins, and two seconds later when it started flowing again it was no longer plasma but pure adrenalin.

Without turning the shower off, he stepped quietly out of it and wrapped a towel around his waist with shaking hands. It took all his nerve to crack the bathroom door and peer out. The sight that met his eyes caused his racing heart to stutter. In the middle of his front door was a hole with something poking through it.

He felt surprisingly calm as he weighed his options. His panic was locked somewhere deep inside, screaming to get out, but his cool brain held the key. His instincts told him to close and lock the bathroom door, but he knew that the cheap door and lock wouldn't protect him from anyone who was serious enough about getting to him to drill a hole in his front door. His only viable option was to flee to his bedroom and jump out the window into the back parking lot. It was a long drop but wasn't likely to kill him. He could even grab some pants from his room on the way out.

He cracked the bathroom door wider with the intention of making a run for it when the front door swung open and Guy stepped in.

His fear vanished with a poof, replaced by anger. "What the hell are you doing?" he demanded as he strode into the front room. "You practically gave me a heart attack!"

Guy smiled at him, a twinkle in his eye. The twinkle burst into flames as the older man's dark eye raked up and down Tigger's dripping, towel-clad body. Guy cleared his throat and swallowed, then said in a husky voice, "I'm installing a deadbolt and a peephole. The lock you have on this apartment wouldn't keep out the most incompetent thief, and you should always see who's knocking before you open the door."

Guy's voice sent a shiver up Tigger's spine. He was so distracted by the gorgeous muscles and bare skin that whatever Guy had just said was lost to him. It was a warm summer day and the big man was wearing a black tank shirt and city-camo cargo shorts that hugged his ass nicely, showing off well-muscled legs covered in thick dark curls. An elaborate tattoo shadowed one of his calves.

Tigger barely managed to tear his gaze away from Guy long enough to notice the shiny new deadbolt gracing their door. Meanwhile his walking wet dream had turned his attention back to his project and was attaching the peephole hardware.

When Tigger saw the pile of sawdust on the floor around Guy's feet, he finally registered what was happening. "What the hell is my landlord going to say?" He tried for indignant in an effort to hide his lust, but was afraid he just sounded bitchy.

Guy finished screwing the peephole in, closed the door, and peered out of it. Turning back to Tigger he said, "Your landlord will have no cause for complaint. This is clearly an upgrade." He dug in the pocket of his shorts and pulled out a handful of keys. "I had some extra sets made." He stepped over to the kitchen island and laid them out. "There's four: one for you, one for Jon, one for the landlord, and one spare."

Why don't you keep the spare? Tigger bit back that offer.

In two paces Guy was standing directly in front of Tigger. His gaze traveled down the young man's bare torso and the pupil in his intense eye widened.

Tigger caught his breath as Guy's scent hit him, redolent with musk. He became aware that his cock was a solid steel pike, tenting the front of his towel obscenely. He was unable to move, held frozen as surely as if he'd been bolted to the floor and coated with epoxy.

"I see the cut is healing nicely." Guy's voice was rough, as if he hadn't used it in a long while. He put a finger on the healed wound at Tigger's collarbone, his touch so light if Tigger hadn't been watching him he might not have felt it. But felt it he did. As Guy's finger trailed down Tigger's bare chest, it left a flaming path in its wake. A shiver of goose bumps raced across his skin.

Tigger's eyes locked on Guy's face. The older man's expression was of exquisite awe. His eye perused Tigger's body as if he'd never seen anything so fine and could not believe it was being revealed to him. When his finger reached the top of the towel that was wrapped around Tigger's waist, he didn't stop. Instead he grasped the edge of the cloth firmly and pulled. The towel came away and he let it drop to the floor.

Guy's lips parted and Tigger heard the rush of air being pulled into his lungs as the big man gazed on Tigger's eight-inch length of straining manhood. Tigger felt as if he were in a dream—a wet dream this time, not a nightmare—but he still couldn't move. Then suddenly his brain kicked in and his muscles came under his control. He whimpered pitifully and pulled his hands in front of his cock to hide his shame.

"No!" Guy said firmly. He took Tigger's hands in his own and pulled his arms above his head, adjusting his grip so that he clasped both of Tigger's wrists together in a secure hold. "Kneel," he commanded.

All of the blood left Tigger's brain and he felt dizzy. He did not question the order, he just dropped obediently to his knees, never taking his eyes off Guy's hungry face. Guy continued to hold his arms above his head with one hand while the other struggled desperately to unfasten his fly.

A hot, hard cock emerged, glistening and glorious, and with it came a waft of the most sensual scent Tigger had ever experienced. He almost orgasmed right then, spontaneously. He felt precum dribbling out of his own needy cock. Oh god! Oh god! Oh god! He's going to let me suck it! The thick organ was only inches from his lips and Tigger parted them in anticipation.

But Guy did not put his cock in Tigger's mouth. Instead he started to jack himself furiously. Tigger's shocked gaze went back up to his face. Guy was starring at him with such intense need that it lit his own fuse. He could feel the incendiary thread burning a long path through his body, and he knew that when it got to its destination there would be an explosion that would demolish him.

Precum drooled from Guy's slit and Tigger savored its sharp, sexy scent. He wanted nothing more at that moment than to have Guy's hard shaft in his mouth. He wanted to swallow all of Guy's essence down.

"Please," he begged, his voice hoarse and heavy with desire, his eyes still locked with Guy's.

Guy threw back his head then and let out a long guttural groan. Warm, sticky semen blasted out of his pulsing cock to splash all over Tigger's face. By some miracle it missed Tigger's eyes, which he couldn't close—he was too intent on watching Guy's ecstasy-etched face as he orgasmed. He felt the cum hit his forehead, then his nose, and he opened his mouth wide and endeavored to catch as much as he could on his tongue. It was hot, salty heaven.

As Guy's orgasm finally came to a dribbling end, he groaned out, "Mine," in a strangled, broken voice.

That did it for Tigger; Guy was claiming him. A huge tremor shook his small frame. He cried out Guy's name as his own cock erupted, spurting great globs of white heat all down Guy's calves and onto the floor.

The next thing Tigger was aware of was that he was sitting back on his heels while Guy wiped his face with a clean wet dishtowel.

"I'm sorry. I'm so sorry, Angel. I ... I don't know what came over me. I'm sorry." Guy looked quite upset, maybe even panicked.

Tigger wanted to rouse himself enough to say, "Don't be sorry. It's okay. I loved it," but he was still too discombobulated.

Guy finished with his swipes and dropped the cloth onto the counter next to the keys. He quickly gathered up his drill and the next thing Tigger knew he was at the door.

Guy paused with his hand on the doorknob. His expression was stony as he looked down at Tigger. "You come lock this behind me," he commanded.

Tigger climbed automatically to his feet to do Guy's bidding, his brain swirling with confusion. When he reached the door, Guy was already through it, starting down the hall.

Tigger suddenly realized Guy was walking out of his life again. "Wait!" he cried, his voice desperate. Guy halted, turning to meet his gaze. Something—love? longing?—flickered in his eye so briefly Tigger wondered if he'd imagined it, then it was gone and his expression was bleak.

"What?"

"Can I have your phone number?"

"No." Guy's response was short and crisp. He spun on his heel and disappeared through the door that led to the stairwell.

Tigger felt like he'd been punched in the gut. He wanted to run after Guy, to demand an explanation. Hell, to demand a date! But he was still naked and Guy was already long gone.

He closed the door and turned the new deadbolt before collapsing to the floor with a moan. It was then he realized that the shower was still running and he was sitting in a pile of sawdust.



Encounters with Evil Pt. 02



© Copyright jvaughn, 2013. All rights reserved. Copyright violators will be prosecuted to the fullest extent of the law.

Chapter Six

Guy pounded down the steps and burst out of the apartment building onto the street. Not slowing down, he sprinted to his vehicle which was parked a block away. Finding his key fob in his pocket, he had the doors sliding up before he reached his hypercar. Jumping into it, he activated the door-close mechanism at the same time as he attempted to slam the keys into the ignition. His hands were shaking so badly it took him three tries. When he finally got the keys in, instead of turning the engine over, he folded his arms across the steering wheel and rested his forehead on them, taking deep rasping breaths. I need to calm down. I can't drive like this.

His chest hurt.

What the hell got into me? he questioned himself. I never lose control like that—ever! Somehow Guy couldn't restrain himself around the beautiful young man—and that terrified him. He was used to being in control. Even if he didn't have the upper hand in every situation, and with vampires that was often the case, he was always in control of himself. Until now. Now he was wildly out of control.

He tried to analyze the situation dispassionately. I shouldn't have gone in without knocking and waiting for Melvin to answer. Maybe I shouldn't have gone in at all. But still, it should have been fine. The problem came when I stood in front of him ... when I touched him.

He remembered looking down at Mel's tight little body, admiring his pale, goose-bumped skin, his lovely rosy areolas, his hard nipples jutting out in invitation. He had smelled Mel's desire. The intoxicating scent had slammed into him, shutting down all reason and awakening a hungry demon within.

Then he had touched. He had run his finger down Mel's chest, feeling electricity sparking all along his fingertips. He had seen the evidence of his angel's desire, poking out proudly under his towel. Mel's eyes had been heavy with lust, his sensual lips parted. He had looked up at Guy as if he were the most desirable man in the world.

Guy had not been able to stop himself from removing the offending piece of cloth. He had to see what the tented towel promised, and he had not been disappointed. Mel's cock was as perfect as the rest of him—surprisingly long and fat, and hard as steel, weeping with desire. 

That's when he had lost all vestiges of control. Well, perhaps not all of them. If he had completely lost his mind, he would have thrown Mel down on the floor and mounted him right there. As it was, he barely refrained from shoving his cock down Mel's lovely throat. His angel had looked at him with such trust and naked hunger, he had burst into flames.

He shifted in his seat, leaning back to close his eyes. His cock was uncomfortably hard again, starting to leak. Just the memory of that angelic boy kneeling before him, wanting him, had him ready to explode. He tore open his shorts and grabbed his hot shaft. Grateful for the tinted windows on his Agera, he pumped his cock desperately. Visions of Mel's open mouth below him trying to catch his sperm caused his cock to spasm, and remembering that sweet plea, "Please!" pushed him over. With a groan he came all over his hand.

What the hell is wrong with me? he asked himself in disgust as soon as his brain reengaged. He reached into the glove box for some napkins and wiped himself up. He also wiped the drying spunk from his calves. He barely remembered Mel orgasming—he hadn't even touched himself and he had still cum all over Guy's legs. That was so hot! His cock twitched again hopefully.

Christ! I'm totally losing my sanity. That's the only logical explanation. He didn't allow himself to think the unthinkable—that he was turning into a demon.

He kept his eyes closed, breathing deeply, trying to clear his brain of all thought. What the hell am I going to do?

You're going to stay far away from him, he answered himself. But already he was feeling an irresistible pull. It was getting on toward evening. He needed to go home, take a shower, get some dinner, and go to work. He opened his eyes and engaged the engine, but still he didn't pull away from the curb. He felt like there was an invisible but unbreakable thread binding him to Mel, and the further away he got from him the thinner it stretched and the more it hurt.





Encounters with Evil Pt. 02



The three officers joined them in the room. At Guy's insistence, they'd all donned latex gloves before they'd entered. It's not that the others questioned the need not to disturb a crime scene, but rather they questioned whether this was crime scene at all. Kraus's sour attitude seemed to have rubbed off on the uniformed officers and all of them had given Guy the snub. 

When Kraus crossed to the door on the far wall and opened it, the stench of rotting flesh permeated the room. The officers exchanged uneasy glances while the inspector hesitated in the doorway. 

Peering past him, Guy saw a short hallway, at the far end of which was a set of stairs leading down. "I'll go first," he said, stepping past the uncertain inspector. There was the sound of dripping somewhere, but otherwise all was quiet. The bitter vampire scent became stronger and the air grew clammy and cool as Guy descended. The inspector stayed right on his heels followed by the three uniforms. 

Guy had only been in one other vampire hideout, and it had also been underground. That was typical, or so he'd been taught. Daylight wouldn't kill a vampire, but it made them most uncomfortable and they avoided it at all costs. An underground hideout would preclude the possibility of someone opening a window shade. 

They passed a landing and the stairs ended in a hallway with three closed doors. Guy knew the body would be found behind the far door; the source of the foulness was unmistakable. There was no sound or movement from behind any of the doors, but Guy was too experienced to be complacent. He opened each door as they came to it and let the uniformed officers investigate the empty rooms. 

He steeled himself before he cracked open the far door. He knew it would be bad. As the door swung open, the inspector, looking over his shoulder, let out a loud, "Oh God!" 

Guy crossed quickly to the corpse that was hanging from chains attached to the concrete walls. The man was naked, his skin shrunken in against his bones, as if the flesh that normally lay between skin and bone had been somehow removed. Guy knew better. It was not his flesh that had been removed, it was his blood. 

The vampire bite marks were almost indiscernible on the corpse's neck. The skin there was blistered and oozing. The body was in such a state that it was impossible to tell how old the victim had been. Noting the full head of blond hair, Guy guessed young. 

As was typical of every vampire slaying he'd ever witnessed, the man had been tortured. There were festering cuts all over his body and much of the skin on his face and genitalia was missing. Most disturbing was that the flesh on one of his forearms looked like it had been gnawed off, and judging from the amount of blood that had dripped down his arm and torso, it had happened while he'd still been alive. Guy suppressed a shudder. His brain had already retreated to that cold unemotional place it went whenever he was confronted with such horrors. He kept his focus on what he could do to find the demon and away from thoughts about what the victim must have gone through before he finally died. 

Guy heard a gagging noise and glanced over at the inspector. He was swallowing rapidly and had gone pale as a ghost. 

"If you're going to get sick, you should go back up into the alley," Guy advised. "Don't mess up the crime scene."

The inspector swallowed again and said, "I'm okay." His voice shook, belying his statement. "I need to call this in—get forensics in here. Don't touch anything." He disappeared down the hall. Two of the uniforms had already gone tearing back up the stairs. The third was standing in the doorway apparently trying to get his breathing under control. 

"Poor bastard," the remaining officer said. "It's hard to believe someone could do this ... what the hell happened to him?" He took a step toward the body, his eyes roaming over the dribbling flesh. "How did he get like this, all shriveled up? And what could have eaten away his skin like that?" 

Damage control time, Guy thought. Even the local police didn't know there was such a thing as real-life vampires. "He's a right sick bastard," he replied. "Probably in the medical field because he has the knowhow to syphon off all of his victims' blood—I'm sure forensics will show that as the cause of death. His skin is like that because he poured acid on him. He likes to torture them all right. We need to catch this fucker." 

The uniformed cop nodded and set his jaw, turning away from the gruesome scene and pacing back up the hallway. 

Guy didn't spend any more time examining the body just then. Instead he walked around the room looking for clues that might lead him to the vampire. The dungeon room was empty except for the grisly remains and various body fluids. He moved on to the other rooms. 

They were both furnished with high quality antiques. One was a bedroom with a bathroom off of it and the other was an office. Guy searched the bedroom first which had obviously been hastily vacated. There were some coins on the floor and a scrap of cloth in the back of one of the bureau drawers—nothing that could be used to track the vampire. The bathroom had been recently tiled and was spotless except for some smears of blood in the sink. 

Moving on to the study, Guy went methodically through the filing cabinet and all of the desk drawers. The vampire had left a power strip behind and from the marks on the desk it was clear he'd removed computer equipment. A modern vampire, then. Some of them were and some of them still lived as if it were several hundred years in the past, shunning even electricity for candles and torches. In his opinion, modern ones were much more dangerous.

He was peering into the last empty drawer when he caught sight of a scrap of paper. It was behind the drawer itself, barely visible in the back. With some jiggling, Guy removed the drawer and carefully pulled the paper out. It was a receipt for a printer and some miscellaneous small electronics. It was made out to Selo Valjevo.

Finally, a fucking break! Now at least they had a name. It wouldn't be his real name of course, but if he was still using it they might be able to trace him through his financial activities. 

"I told you not to touch anything." The inspector was standing in the doorway glaring at him, trying to take back his authority. He still looked pale and shaken. 

"Sorry," Guy said dryly. Clearly he wasn't sorry. "The sooner I have information, the sooner we'll catch this fucker." He tossed the paper on the desk and snapped a photo of it. "I found it behind the bottom drawer." 

"You should have at least taken a photo of it before you removed it." 

Guy raised an eyebrow. Technically the inspector was correct but he wasn't about to admit it. "If you like I can place it back where I found it and your boys can do their thing with it." 

The inspector waved an irritated hand at him and left his spot in the doorway, moving down the hall to the bedroom. 

Guy sighed and glanced at the paper again. It wasn't much to go on. Vampire hunting was seldom rewarding; more typically it was frustrating and heartbreaking and downright horrifying. He tried not to let his mind wander to the victim. Thank God it's not my job to inform the poor kid's family.





Encounters with Evil Pt. 02



"Yeah, sorry. But at least I got it back, right?"

His mother made a noncommittal sound. 

"I've asked for some time off over Fourth of July. I thought I'd come down for a visit." Tigger sought to pull his mother's mind off of his shortcomings, which usually wasn't difficult. She was a pushover when it came to him, but he tried not to take too much advantage of that. She loved him. 

"Wonderful! Margie is coming up that weekend too." 

"Oh, great! I can't wait to see her." Margie was Tigger's sister, older by three years. She lived in San Diego and worked for Disney in their marketing department. She was one of the charmed few lucky enough to have landed her dream job right out of college. Tigger had always been close to his sister, and the house had seemed empty when she'd first left for school. Now that he was out on his own he didn't think of her as often, but he still missed her. 

His mom went on, filling him in on their neighbors across the street, who had bought a new car that turned out to be a lemon; their old cat Mika, who she thought was now stone deaf; and their family friend, Natalie, who at the age of fifty-one had fallen in love with a sixty-year-old French clothing designer and was moving to Paris. 

Tigger listened and made sympathetic noises at all the required places. His mother was winding down on her news, and he knew she was about to launch into the third degree about what was happening in his life—a conversation he really didn't want to have because his mother knew him too well. He was sure that after just a few questions she'd have him spilling his guts about Guy. 

Luckily he was saved by the bell—or in this case, by a sharp rap on his door. He danced over to it and almost flung it wide before he remembered he had a shiny new peephole. He looked through it and froze. 

Whoever was outside was covering the peephole with something—he couldn't see a thing. He tried to calm himself. It's probably just a friend joking around. The hair standing on end on the back of his neck told him otherwise.

He had the presence of mind to say, "Mom, I've got to go. I'll call you back later," before he hung up his phone. 

Do I call the police? No, what if it's just one of our friends?

While he stood there debating, his heart hammering away in his chest, there was another quick rap on the door. He checked the peephole again—still dark. Summoning his courage, he called out calmly, "I'm not going to open the door if you won't let me see who you are." 

His statement was met with an inhuman snarl and a terrific pounding on the door that reverberated through the room. 

Tigger jumped back, watching in horror as the door shook in its frame. The knob rattled like crazy and then there was silence. Tigger's limbs felt like jelly and there was a roaring in his ears. He was positive that the demon was standing right outside his door. What is he doing?

He heard Mrs. McGruder's voice, shrill and imperious, "You don't belong here. I'm calling the police." There was another snarl from the vampire and he heard a squeak from Mrs. McGruder. 

Holy shit! What'd he just do to Mrs. McGruder? Tigger crept to the door and looked out the peephole. The vampire was right there in front of his door, fiddling with the lock. There was no sign of Mrs. McGruder. The demon looked up at the peephole and grinned as if he could see Tigger clearly. The soulless black eyes chilled him to the marrow. 

He suppressed a whimper of terror that threatened to come out of his mouth as he backed slowly away from the door. How long will it take him to pick the lock? Three steps away from the door he turned and fled to his bedroom, where he slammed and locked the door. The bedroom door wouldn't hold the vampire for more than a few seconds—he knew that. 

His phone was still in his hand. With shaking fingers he punched in his security code and dialed 911. 

"Nine-one-one—what's your emergency?" The woman's voice on the other end of the phone was all business. 

Tigger gasped. It took him a fraction of a second to get his voice working and then he burst out, "Someone's trying to break into my apartment and I think he may have attacked my neighbor." 

Later he would not remember giving his name and address or any of the rest of the conversation that took place. The dispatcher requested that he stay on the line and he was remotely aware that she was relaying his information to officers in the field. His hearing was attuned to the front of his apartment. He heard nothing.

He paced to his window and looked out. It was a long drop, but maybe his best option if he heard the vampire in the apartment. He unlocked the window and opened the sash, letting in a blast of cool air. It was drizzling outside, and even though it was June, the sun had set and it was barely over fifty degrees outside. His coat was in the front hall closet but he wasn't about to go get it. He had just shrugged into a sweater when he heard the dispatcher speaking to him.

"Officers are on their way. You hold tight now." 

Just then Tigger heard more ferocious snarls and a great hammering at the front door. He had thought his heart couldn't beat any faster, but now he felt it pounding in his chest, forcing all the air out of his lungs. He gasped for air. Hold tight? You don't know what's out there! Will a regular bullet even slow a vampire down? 

The racket at the door stopped abruptly. The silence was ominous.

Going back to the window, he was just about to knock the screen out when he saw the vampire coming out of the back door of the apartment. The demon moved swiftly to just below his window and without hesitation started to glide up the side of the building.

Holy shit! Terror screamed so loudly through Tigger that his brain short-circuited, his mind-channel turning to snow. Luckily his body functioned on its own accord. He jumped back, slammed the window shut, and snicked the lock into place. He could hear the dispatcher yammering on his phone, demanding to know what was happening. He jammed the phone into his back pocket, heedless of whether he cut the connection. Racing from his room, he yanked the door shut behind him. I need some way to lock that from the outside, he thought. 

Still on autopilot, he ran into the dining room and grabbed one of the sturdy ladderback chairs. He was almost back to the room when he heard gun shots. 

Thank God, the police are here! 

He wedged the back of the chair behind the door handle so that the door couldn't be opened until the chair was dislodged or broken. Just as he was finishing, he heard the sound of breaking glass. Oh my God! Either the police missed or the bullets didn't slow him down any.

He dashed to front door and paused with his hand on the knob. Should I run outside? He heard the vampire snarling on the other side of his bedroom door and rattling it. That flimsy door is not going to hold for long. That thought made up his mind for him. He opened the front door silently and slipped out into the hallway. There was no sign of Mrs. McGruder. He had just reached the stairwell door when it flew open, almost giving him a heart attack. Guy's bulk filled the doorframe; his face was as grim as death. 

Tigger didn't have time to say anything. He was thrown over a broad shoulder, very much like the first time Guy that had carried him. He grabbed fistfuls of leather jacket to steady himself as the big man leapt down the stairs in two jumps. They burst out the front door of the building and Guy picked up speed. This time Tigger was certain that a normal human-being couldn't run this fast. The world streaked by at an eye-watering pace. He heard the sound of sirens and some part of his mind registered that the police must have called for backup. Luckily Guy had found him—he saw no sign of the police. He was sure that they would not have been able to save him from the demon. 

In no time at all Guy pulled him off his shoulder and threw him through the open driver's side door of a sports car. Tigger careened into the passenger door, his legs tangling with the gear shift. He scrambled around to a sitting position as Guy climbed in and the engine roared to life. 

"Buckle up," Guy barked. 

As Tigger hurried to comply, the door began sliding shut from a vertical position with a quiet whir. He saw a black blur streaking toward them. Just as the door finished closing, the blur collided with the vehicle, shaking it with such force it rocked on its wheels. The vampire's face appeared in the front window. Tigger heard a feral snarl and saw the gleam of the monster's elongated canines. 

He heard himself whimper in terror. The blackhole eyes bored into him with a hunger that chilled his soul.

Then the car was moving, the force of their acceleration pushing him back against the seat. The vampire was left behind and they took a corner on two squealing tires. Their speed increased on the straight away. They were going much too fast for a suburban neighborhood. 

"I knew that zero to sixty in less than three seconds would come in handy some day," Guy said, chuckling. 

Tigger suddenly became aware of his heart still hammering in his chest. He took deep breaths, willing himself to calm down. I'm safe now. I'm with Guy. Perhaps the pounding of his heart wasn't all from fear.

Guy ran a red light and accelerated even more as he took the onramp to Highway 520, heading east over Lake Washington. Tigger eyed the speedometer as it jumped past a hundred miles an hour. They overtook the vehicle in front of them in a flat second. Luckily there weren't many cars on the bridge at that hour. He squirmed around in his seat to look out the back window apprehensively. There was no sign of the vampire.

"He can't catch us now," Guy assured him. 

Tigger eyed the speedometer. "Then why—"

"I just like going fast," Guy said, breaking into a broad smile. He eased off on the accelerator a bit, bringing their speed down to eighty. "I guess I'd better slow down. My boss will have my ass in a sling if I taunt the local cops." 

"Holy, hell," Tigger said, finally starting to catch his breath. "I am so glad you rescued me. What were you doing there, anyway?" 

"Looking for the vampire," Guy answered, his grin fading quickly to be replaced by his usual stony expression. 

"Looking for the vampire?" Tigger echoed back in confusion. Suddenly the meaning of Guy's words hit him. "You were using me as bait!" he accused. 

"No. No I wasn't. I would never," Guy said quickly. "I just knew he would be after you and didn't have any other leads. I'm glad my instincts were on target." 

"Otherwise I'd be dead by now," Tigger confirmed. 

"Not yet, but you'd wish you were." 

Tigger sucked in a quick breath, trying not to think too much about what Guy had just said. "How did the vampire find me in the first place?" 

"That's a very good question." 

"You think that he was after me specifically? Why?"

"When he attacked you last weekend he tasted your blood, didn't he?" Guy glanced briefly at Tigger's face before turning his attention back to the freeway.

"Yes." Tigger shuddered. "After he cut me, he licked me." The last came out in a horrified whisper. Guy pressed his lips together in a tight line. "But why does that matter?" Tigger asked. "He didn't bite me."

"Thank God for that! But just having tasted your blood will put a compulsion on him to taste you again. He won't stop until he has you—or he's been destroyed." Guy fixed his intense eye on Tigger. "I intend to make sure it's the latter." Turning his attention back to the freeway, he moved the car into the lane to merge onto Highway 405, heading south. 

Tigger tried not to stare at Guy's profile. He had a classic roman nose with a small hump on the bridge. Tigger wondered if it had been broken. Regardless, it was the perfect nose for Guy's masculine face. 

"I assume your roommate wasn't there," Guy said, breaking the brief silence. 

"Yes, Jon's working tonight."

"What time do you expect him home?"

"He works at The Pony and doesn't usually doesn't get home until one-thirty or two." The Pony was a lively gay bar in Seattle's Capital Hill neighborhood. 

Guy raised an eyebrow. "He's a bartender?"

"Dancer, actually."

Guy made a disapproving sound and then said, "He can't go home." 

"Do you think the vampire will be after him?" Tigger asked in alarm.

"I don't think Valjevo's hunting him, but I'm sure he's pissed as hell and likely still in the neighborhood. He won't hesitate to snag Jon if he gets a chance."

"Valjevo?"

"The vampire."

He has a name? This surprised Tigger. The vampire's soulless. Shouldn't he be nameless too? Turning his thoughts back to the problem at hand, he said, "Jon usually walks home. I'll call him and tell him he should find someplace else to go for tonight." 

He struggled for a few moments wrestling his phone out of the back pocket of his skin-tight jeans. Once he'd finally retrieved it, he glanced at the panel and saw that he'd missed two calls, one from his mother and one from an unlisted number, undoubtedly the dispatcher attempting to call him back. He had been so distracted he must have missed it vibrating. 

He punched in his security code and then hesitated, wondering who to call first. 

"Got a new phone?" Guy asked, his tone deceptively light. 

"No, it's my old phone. I found it," Tigger responded. 

Guy's jaw tightened. "Where?" 

"Huh? Oh, in the alley, where I lost it." 

Faster than thought Guy snatched the phone out of his hand. 

"Hey!" Tigger protested, turning to face the big man. Guy's face was a study in fury. Tigger registered that the driver's side window was sliding down. He lunged for his phone but Guy easily shifted it to his left hand and tossed it out the window. 

"Hey!" Tigger cried again, twisting quickly around to watch the gadget disappear underneath the car behind them. "That's my phone! I need that. You have to go back and get it!" 

"How do you think the vampire found you?" Guy asked through clenched teeth. 

Tigger was silent for a few seconds as the meaning of Guy's words sunk in. "You mean he traced me through my phone?" 

"Of course." 

"But did you have to throw it away? I mean, couldn't we have fixed it?" 

"It's possible, but I wouldn't want to take a chance. Never underestimate a vampire. It was ridiculously naïve of you to go back to that alley. I'm surprised you've managed to survive to the ripe age of twenty-one if you make a habit of decisions like that one." 

Tigger let out a huff of air. He didn't have a snappy comeback, but he was definitely irritated about the loss of his phone. "How am I going to call Jon?" he demanded. "How am I going to call my mother back? She'll be worried about me. The police will be looking for me too. I was on the phone with 911 when he started climbing the building." 

"Nine-one-one?" Guy shook his head. "The local police can't do anything about a vampire." 

"Well, I didn't have your phone number because you wouldn't give it to me," Tigger pointed out, crossing his arms over his chest and sticking his lower lip out in a pout. 

Guy glanced at him but said nothing. Tigger stared out the window as they got onto I-90 heading west across the lake again. He had a million questions for Guy, but he was too upset to ask them just then. He was sure he'd sound snarky and he didn't want to fight with Guy; the older man seemed agitated. Tigger wanted to blame his anger on Guy, but he realized he was probably more upset about the vampire attack than he was about his phone. 

"You can call Jon on my phone," Guy finally said. He reached into his jacket pocket and pulled out a pay-as-you-go phone, offering it to Tigger. 

Tigger looked at it and blinked. It didn't seem like the kind of phone Guy would own. He shook his head. "I don't have Jon's number memorized. It was on my phone and it's unlisted."

"I can get it for you, but it might take some time. It'll be faster for me to go by there," Guy said, pocketing the phone once more. He took an exit onto Mercer Island and headed down a street that ran along the west side of the long narrow strip of land. 

"Where are we going?" Tigger asked. 

"Someplace safe," Guy replied. 

Tigger was about to push for an answer when he realized that it was probably pointless. He didn't know Guy well, but his jaw was set and his lips were pressed into a tight line. Wherever it was, they would be there soon. Mercer Island wasn't that big.

Guy had slowed to a normal speed and Tigger continued to watch out the window as they drove across the heavily wooded island, passing multi-million dollar homes of various ages, sizes, and architectures, many partially hidden in the trees or behind high fences. 

He had time to notice that the interior of the vehicle was sleek, the seats of the highest quality leather, and the electronics cutting edge. He glanced at the label on the dashboard: "Koenigsegg, Agera."

"Holy shit! This is like a million dollar car!" he burst out. 

Guy let out a low laugh, his tension seeming to ease. "Well, I didn't pay quite that much for it," he said modestly. They had reached the south end of the island, and Guy slowed the car to pull onto a small gravel road. The street disappeared through the trees behind them as they drove down a long driveway to, what was for Mercer Island, a very modest house. Guy punched a button on a gadget that was attached to his sun visor and the garage door slid open. 

He pulled the car in and punched the button again to close the door behind them. Tigger started to unbuckle his seat belt. 

"Hold," Guy said, putting his hand up in a halt gesture. "We're not quite there yet." 

Not there? Where the hell can we go from here? The garage was empty save for a golf cart parked to one side and some neatly arrayed garden tools. 

Guy punched another button on the sun visor gadget and there was a quiet whir. Tigger became aware that the car was sinking. The entire garage floor was going down, as if it were an elevator. 

"What the hell?" 

"Welcome to my humble abode," Guy muttered. 

Presently a long tunnel stretched out before them, illuminated by the headlights of the sports car. The garage floor settled with a small clunk and Guy eased the car forward, pressing the button again to raise the garage floor behind them. 

"Who the hell are you?" Tigger demanded, his voice coming out as a squeak. "Bruce Wayne?" 

A broad grin broke across Guy's face. "Something like that," he replied. 



Encounters with Evil Pt. 03



© Copyright jvaughn, 2013. All rights reserved. Copyright violators will be prosecuted to the fullest extent of the law. 

*

Lights came on automatically as they came to the end of the tunnel, illuminating a small parking area and an elevator. Guy's motorcycle was parked to one side as was an early 1960's black Cadillac that appeared to be in perfect condition.

Tigger knew his eyes were the size of saucers. Who lives like this? he wondered as they stepped into the gleaming elevator.

The ride was fast. Before he knew it the elevator doors swished open and he followed Guy into a wide well-lit hallway. The floor was polished marble with green veins. There was a small table made of various types of wood, fitted together in an intricate pattern. It looked more like artwork than a functional piece, but Guy pulled out a drawer and tossed his keys into it. Then he set his phone on it next to a large vase of fresh flowers. Tigger could see Guy's face reflected in the tall gilded mirror that hung above the table. His expression had gone back to the forbidding, tight-lipped mask that he usually wore. Tigger wondered what had happened in his past to make him so closed-off. He longed to crack that hard shell and see the smiling version of Guy. He'd only caught glimpses of the softer, caring man who was buried under all that stone.

Opening a closet door, Guy shrugged out of his jacket, and then he sat down on a mahogany chair to remove his boots and socks. Tigger could not help but stare at his large, broad feet. They were perfectly shaped with a smattering of dark hairs on them. He had never thought of himself as having a foot fetish, but there was definitely something erotic about Guy's feet.

Glancing up at Tigger, Guy said, "You'd better take off your shoes or Consuela will have your hide." He tossed his boots and socks into the hall closet.

Consuela? A small lump formed in Tigger's throat. He's probably so far in the closet he has a girlfriend. He was afraid to ask. He toed off his tennis shoes and shuffled them into the closet. The marble floor was surprisingly warm beneath his stocking feet. Turning back around, he saw Guy disappearing through an opening at the end of the hallway. Tigger followed and stopped short on the threshold of a huge room, looking around in wonder.

*****

Guy turned and watched Mel come slowly into the room, his huge eyes trying to take in everything at once. He looked a little overwhelmed by the space.

Guy knew the house was impressive, but he'd gotten used to it. He tried to see how it would look from Mel's eyes. The room was so spacious it seemed sparsely furnished, although it wasn't really. There was a black leather couch with two matching arm chairs, and an iron and glass coffee table and end tables. Floor to ceiling bookshelves lined a wall and a white brick fireplace dominated one side of the room. The far end held the mahogany dining room table and a matching sideboard. The white marble flooring from the front hall continued into the great room. The only color came from the abstract art on the walls, a few blown glass sculptures, and the fresh flowers on the dining room table.

"Holy shit, you're rich!" Mel's voice was full of awe.

It's just money. "It's corporate housing," Guy said with a shrug and a small smile.

"Corporate housing? Seriously? I guess you really don't work for the government," Mel said with a laugh. Just then his eyes focused on the far wall that was made almost entirely of glass. He went immediately to the massive sliding door and yanked on the handle.

Guy stepped up to the wall nearest the door and punched a code into a small panel. There was a soft click and the door yielded to Mel's tug, sliding back silently.

"Oh wow!" Mel said as he stepped out onto the porch. The broad deck ran along the whole outside of the house which was built into a cliff wall. Lights twinkled in the distance across the dark water.

Guy followed him out. It was raining lightly and the wind picked up the tiny droplets and hurled them at the men, whipping the hair away from Mel's face. The young man tilted his head back and laughed with abandon. Guy couldn't help a broad answering smile. His jaw ached with the unfamiliar movement. He had smiled more in the last hour than he'd had in months.

"This is so awesome!" Mel said. "Unless you were just right out there in a boat you'd never know your house was here. Do you even have any neighbors?"

"No one close. The property is on four acres."

"Four acres of waterfront property on Mercer Island? I can't even imagine how much that costs."

"My company is well-funded," Guy said modestly.

Mel shivered and Guy ushered him back inside with a hand on the small of his back. Mel leaned into his touch like a cat responding to a loving caress. He could feel the warmth of the young man under his fingers. An electrical charge ran up his arm, igniting a fire in his core, and heat swelled in his chest triggering a storm of emotion. Mine!

Guy snatched his hand away almost as if he'd been burned, but almost immediately he reached out and gently grabbed Mel's arm to keep him standing on the small rug just inside the door. Once again the touch sparked between them. Guy caught a whiff of Mel's scent: clean skin with a hint of lavender soap, citrus from his hair, and underneath a heady muskiness that was virile young man. Mel looked up at him, his wide aqua eyes shining with pleasure, his full lips slightly parted.

Desire slammed into Guy like a punch in the gut, causing him to gasp for air. He immediately let go of Mel's arm. Do not touch! Do not touch! he repeated to himself in a daze as he stumbled a few feet away. He needed distance or he'd lose complete control. In two short seconds his cock had become uncomfortably hard.

He took a deep breath and turned back to look at Mel who was staring at him with longing in his eyes. "Wipe your feet," he commanded in a rough voice. Noticing Mel's sopping socks, he added, "Take your socks off. Don't get mud on the floor."

"Consuela?" Mel asked in a tight voice. The contentment he had radiated only moments earlier vanished. He looked around apprehensively, as if expecting a she-demon to appear at any moment.

"She's not here right now," Guy assured him, "but she'll be here first thing in the morning, and if you've gotten the floors dirty she'll string you up by your fingernails."

"Oh," Mel said in a small voice.

"Let me show you the rest of the house." Guy led the way into a spacious kitchen. It was separated from the main room by rich wood panels that could slide back and make the kitchen part of the great room. The setup was useful for entertaining, but he never opened them. The immaculate kitchen had granite countertops, gleaming appliances, and state-of-the art lighting and fixtures.

"You can make yourself at home. There's food and stuff." Guy waved a hand in the direction of the pantry as he passed through the kitchen and out the far door which led back into the front hall. He turned to point out a small bathroom and realized he'd lost Mel in the kitchen.

Poking his head back through the doorway, he couldn't help but smile. His angel was standing in the middle of the space, turning slowly around, taking everything in. Guy couldn't help but notice how well Mel's tight jeans accentuated his shapely ass. His still-swollen cock throbbed.

Seeing Guy, Mel said, "Make myself at home? How long do you think I'll be here?"

"Until I eliminate Valjevo."

Mel's eyes widened. "How long will that take?" His voice quavered slightly.

The reality of the situation suddenly hit Guy: he could potentially have Mel living in his house for a long time. Given his current state after only ten minutes of having Mel in his home, how would he be able to control himself over an extended period? He swallowed hard before replying, "Days, weeks, months. I don't know."

"Months?" Mel's face registered shock. "How am I going to get to work from here?"

"You're not. You can't go to work. You can't leave. You must stay here until I eliminate him."

"What?" Mel's voice was shrill. "I can't stay here for months! I can't just drop out of my life. I have classes. I have work. I'm going home, back to Centralia, over Fourth of July."

"You'll have to put everything on hold for now. I'm sorry. I'll take care of him as fast as I can, but I can't promise it will be soon."

"I can't even visit my mom?"

"No!" Guy's tone was more emphatic than he meant it to be. Mel's distress over having to stay at his house was throwing him. Intellectually he understood that it was a difficult situations for the young man, but he couldn't help but feel rejected.

"The vampire has your address now," he continued, "which means he has your name and your parents' addresses and probably knows your work and school schedule and is figuring out who your friends are. You can't underestimate him. Remember, he's been around a very long time; he'll have resources. You can't use your credit cards or contact anyone you know from a traceable source."

Mel stared at him, stunned and speechless. Guy pulled a chair out from the small breakfast area and urged him into it. "Sit!" he commanded.

Mel sank slowly onto the chair. Guy fetched him a glass of water and got one for himself before sitting down opposite the young man.

"Is my family in danger? My friends?" Mel's voice sounded strained.

"Probably not. If Valjevo follows the typical pattern he'll just watch them until you make a reappearance in one of their lives, then he'll nab you. But vampires are unpredictable, so I can't guarantee anything."

Mel's lovely eyes clouded with worry and Guy's urge to protect swelled to monstrous proportions. Nothing will ever hurt him as long as I'm alive! he vowed. But he couldn't protect all of Mel's friends and family and Mel too. He'd have to get Ed to put a watch on Mel's family, at least.

Mel frowned. "I can't just not go to work and school. I'll lose my job. I'll flunk my classes. And if I don't contact them, my family will be out of their minds with worry. I can't do that to them."

He has family that worries about him. A stab of loss swept over Guy, infusing him with a familiar aching sadness. He pushed his emotions aside impatiently. There's no time for feeling sorry for yourself. You need to protect Mel. He focused once more on his charge.

"My mother will have the national guard out marching the streets looking for me," Mel was saying.

"You can use the disposable phone I have to call her right now, but you can only talk for a minute; I don't want him to trace your call."

Mel stared at him for a long moment. "Trace my call? You think he's got my mother's phone tapped?"

"If he doesn't yet, he will very soon."

"But aren't disposable phones untraceable? I mean it doesn't have GPS or anything, right?"

"They used to be impossible to trace. Now all phones can connect with the Public Safety Answering Point when you dial 911 so the police can find you in an emergency. Unfortunately there's recent evidence that that technology has been exploited, which means any phone in the United States is potentially traceable to a physical location whether they dial 911 or not. Tomorrow I'll set you up with email and VOIP accounts—they'll be routed through my company and completely untraceable."

"Oh, wow! Spy stuff." Mel still looked a little dazed. "That's scary, actually."

Guy's heart lurched when Mel's eyebrows drew down into a frown. He never wanted to see his angel sad or upset.

"So I have to stay here the whole time—there's no other way? Couldn't I go out of town to somewhere?"

He doesn't want to stay with me. Disappointment slammed into Guy, followed by a bitterness so intense it tasted like acid on his tongue. "There are other places we could hide you, of course." He kept his voice carefully neutral. "This is the safest." Especially since I'll be here and I can protect you better than anyone else on the planet.

Mel stuck out his hand in resignation. "Hand me the phone. I'll call my mom—I'm sure she's frantic by now."

Guy fetched the disposable from his jacket in the hall closet and grabbed his personal phone too. He returned to find Mel running his hands through his hair, sweeping the long curls into charming disarray. As Mel looked up at him, Guy found his gaze lingering on those full, red lips. So fucking pretty! He mentally slapped himself. Stop it! You will not lust after him. He's work. Just a job. But Guy knew Mel wasn't just a job—his heart was pounding way too hard in his chest. Just being close to Mel evoked a strong physical reaction from him. I am in so much trouble, he thought as he handed Mel the phone, being careful that their fingers didn't touch.

Mel stared at the phone for a second. "Are you sure it's safe?"

"It takes a little while for the trace to go through. A minute is overly conservative, but that's how long I'll let you talk. You will be safe." I'll make sure of it.

He started to dial, then paused. "What do I tell her?"

"As little as possible."

Mel looked at him blankly.

"Tell her you're in protective custody."

"Protective custody? Is that what this is?" He didn't seem to expect an answer because he followed this statement with, "Oh my God. I never expected to be in this situation. Stuff like this doesn't happen to me. I lead a nice, quiet, boring life."

Guy smirked at him. "My goal is to make sure you continue to lead a nice quiet, boring life. But it will be here, hidden away, until I destroy the demon."

Mel looked up at him, something indefinable in his eyes. "Somehow I don't think life with you would ever be boring."

Guy's heart thudded so loudly in his chest he was sure Mel would be able to hear it. Does he likes me after all?

Mel turned his attention back to dialing.

"One minute. That's all," Guy warned him. "Tell her you'll call her tomorrow. You can talk longer then. And whatever you do, don't tell her where you are or who you're with. Don't even let her know you're still in Seattle."

Mel smiled. "I don't even know your last name. You're just some Guy."

Guy rolled his eyes. He'd heard jokes about his name his whole life. He listened as Mel tried to convince his mother that he was okay without giving her any details of what had happened. He could hear the woman's voice on the other end of line, shrill with worry.

Timing the call, he said, "Fifteen seconds."

"Mom, I've got to go. I'll call you tomorrow." His mom continued to rant at him. "Mom...." Mel could not get another word in.

Guy watched the fifteen seconds tick by and approached Mel to cut the call off.

"Bye Mom," Mel said.

"Don't you dare hang up on me!" he heard Mel's mother warn as he took the phone from the young man and pressed the End button.

"She'll be so mad at me for that," Mel lamented.

"You need to convince her that this is for your safety. She'd be endangering your life if she kept you on the line any longer."

"It's going to be so hard not to tell her anything. I swear sometimes she can read my mind even when I don't say anything."

Guy looked at Mel sharply, his eyes narrowing. "Be extremely careful. I'd prefer you not talk to her at all in case you inadvertently say something that hints at your location. But I know she'll need to hear your voice." And you might need to hear hers too.

Guy glanced at the time on his phone. "I need to check in with work. You can show yourself around if you like. The bedrooms are downstairs. You'll figure out which one's mine. You can pick either of the other two. I don't have clothes that will fit you, but you can find a new toothbrush and razor in the guest bathroom. I'll run by your place and pick up some of your things while I'm out talking to Jon."

"Can you find out about Mrs. McGruder?" Mel asked. "I think the vampire might have done something to her."

Guy kept his face impassive. "I will," he said. If the vampire took notice of Mrs. McGruder, she's probably dead, he thought, but he didn't tell Mel that. I hope he's not friends with her.

As Mel left the room, he pressed the button on his cell to connect him with Central. "Reporting," he barked into the phone when it was picked up.

"One moment, sir," a woman said. This must be someone new. He didn't recognize the voice.

All too soon Ed rasped into his ear. "About time you called in." Even through the garbling mechanism, he could hear his boss's irritation. "Where the hell are you?"

Guy raised an eyebrow. "You don't know?" he asked, amused. The Company never made mistakes like that. Guy had an implanted GPS and they were supposed to keep track of him at all times while he was working. His home was shielded—as soon as he went into the tunnel the signal would cut off—but they should have tracked him to the garage.

"Don't push me, Salt. Location!" Ed barked.

"I'm at home," Guy replied calmly. He needed to be careful with his touchy boss. He wasn't at all sure Ed was completely sane.

"What the hell are you doing at home?"

"I needed to secure the intended victim."

"You brought Melvin to your house?" Ed's voice was full of disbelief. "What are you thinking, Salluci? You know that's strictly against protocol. You're usually so level-headed."

"It's the safest place I know of," Guy said defensively.

"So you let the vampire go and whisked your lover off to a safe haven?"

The Company knew Guy was gay. He hadn't admitted it, but they had run such a battery of psychological tests on him that there was no way he could have hidden it. If he had tried he probably would have appeared unstable. Luckily, they didn't care. In fact, he seemed to be the ideal employee for them. He had been trained in undercover operations from an early age. He was untethered, estranged from his family, had few friends, and was a confirmed bachelor. He wouldn't be giving their secrets away to anyone and when he was finally killed in the line of duty, there would be no messy explanations to family and friends about the condition of his body.

"He's not my lover," Guy said through gritted teeth.

"No? You could have fooled me." There was an edge to Ed's voice. "You just let the opportunity to eliminate Valjevo slip through your butterfingers!"

"I tried to take him out. Better send someone by to find my spent darts. There'll be three of them and they'll be on the east side of the building under Mel's window."

"It's not like you to miss. Are you losing your edge?"

"I was dodging bullets," Guy said dryly. If you don't like it, go find yourself another fucking vampire hunter. It's not like I missed on purpose.

"He's carrying a gun?" Ed asked in surprise.

"Yes, a small caliber pistol. I didn't get a good look at it."

"Well, that's a new one. Never heard of a vampire carrying a gun. They're plenty lethal without one."

"Yes, this one's different. Very dangerous. Unpredictable. Speaking of which, can you find out what happened to Mel's neighbor, Mrs. McGruder?

"She's fine. Shaken up a bit, but unharmed. She swears she saw a vampire, but of course the police don't believe her."

"That's good. Can you also set someone to watch Mel's family? I can't be here and in Centralia and in Anaheim too."

"We're a bit short resources right now. Kendall was killed last night in Cleveland."

"I'm sorry to hear that," Guy said softly as a bright spike of fear washed over him. He hadn't been close to Kendall, but he'd met him. He was a competent operative, but the odds were against all of them. Kendall's death was a powerful reminder that he was living on borrowed time. He could only hope that when the end came it would be quick. He was tempted to ask what had happened to Kendall, but decided he's rather read the report on his own. He needed to know what had gone down so he could avoid making the same mistake, but he intended to skip over any grisly details.




Encounters with Evil Pt. 03



"Can't you spare anyone?" he asked. "Please?"

Ed gave a snort of surprise. "I'll see what I can do. Something's up with you though. I want you in here first thing in the morning for Evaluation."

"Evaluation? Oh come on!" Guy cried in protest. He hated Evaluation.

"You're not acting normal, Salt, and I need to know why."

Guy knew it was pointless to argue with Ed. Instead he changed the subject. "How did you happen to lose me? I thought you guaranteed tracking."

He heard Ed sigh. "We have a new girl on dispatch right now. She got excited by all the police reports coming through and accidently cut off your signal. By the time she realized it and got it back, you were off the grid."

This was a first. "I guess you're not perfect either." Guy couldn't help rubbing it in. Ed always raked him over the coals for every little mistake he made.

Ed ignored his comment. "Salt, you need to watch your speed on city streets," he admonished. "What are your plans for tonight?"

"I'm going to go pick up the roommate and make sure he has someplace safe to stay."

"Not at your place," Ed said. "Bad enough that Melvin knows about it. We'll have to see how we can leverage him."

"No, absolutely not!" Guy's tone was obdurate. "Mel stays here and stays safe until I catch Valjevo."

"How about we use the roommate to lure—"

"No!" Guy shouted, and then added more quietly, "No family or friends involved. We do this my way, or I'll walk. I mean it, Ed." Guy could not imagine trying to explain to Melvin that the vampire had killed someone he loved because they'd used him as bait.

"We'll see you for Evaluation at oh eight hundred tomorrow," Ed said shortly, and the line went dead.

Guy huffed out a breath. Evaluation. He shuddered slightly. He hated Evaluation. He understood the need, though. The Company was extremely careful, as you had to be when dealing with supernaturals. In Ed's eyes he was acting strange. His boss had never seen him care about anything or anyone except revenge on the vampires. The Company needed to make sure he wasn't bewitched by some demon devilry. He did feel different, almost as if he were under a spell—a compulsion spell that drew him to Mel as a moth to a flame.

How did Mel manage to get into my heart so quickly? Chapter Ten

The bouncer looked up at Guy and his eyes widened. He opened his mouth and closed it again. Guy pushed past him, a smirk tugging at his lips. He knew he should have taken pity on the man and showed his ID, but if the guy was too intimidated to ask, he had no business being a bouncer.

He had never been in The Pony before. After midnight on a Tuesday night the club was relatively empty. A few couples swayed on the small dance floor while others cuddled at scattered tables.

He spotted Jon immediately—he was hard to miss. He was dancing on the counter at the end of the bar, wearing nothing but a very skimpy pair of black briefs. His hips gyrated suggestively to the slow rhythm, his hands were wrapped around a dance pole, and his head was thrown back, his silky black hair tumbling down his back. He was tiny but fit. Guy couldn't help but notice his perfectly sculpted butt as he turned and waggled it toward the club patrons.

Jon was exactly the type of morsel he loved to savor. Right now for some reason his body wasn't responding the way it usually did. He expected his heart rate to speed up and his cock to plump a little at least in the presence of such a delectable treat. But ... nothing.

His thoughts shifted to Mel without any conscious direction on his part. The vision of his angel's eyes when he had left him—concerned, needy, and maybe a little hopeful—took over his mind, momentarily causing his awareness of the club to fade around him. His heart rate quickened. Damn! What the hell? Mel has ruined me for all other men. Just a passing thought of him gets me going.

Guy sternly steered his mind back to the business at hand. He strode over to the bar and stood just a few feet away from Jon, glaring up at him.

Jon finished his turn and glanced down. His eyes widened and his mouth opened in a little "Oh!" He looked around the club, obviously searching for someone, then he yelled over the beat of the music, "Where's Tigger?"

"Safe," Guy replied.

Jon looked startled. "What—?"

"I need to talk to you," Guy said.

"Give me a few minutes," Jon glanced at the clock behind the bar. "My shift is over in fifteen."

Guy nodded and headed to a table in the corner where he could keep a wary eye on everything that happened in the small club. He was aware that almost every eye in the place was on him, most appreciating the view, but the tall bartender was openly hostile. Guy pretended to ignore the stares while he surveyed the room for possible threats to Jon. The vampire was not there; he would have smelled him. However, it was not unheard of for vampires to enlist humans to help them, usually by means of a charm spell. Guy was not taking any chances.

While he watched Jon finish up his set, his mind shifted to Mel. He couldn't help but feel uneasy when Mel was not with him, but he knew that if he wanted to take out Valjevo he could not have Mel tagging along, and he was as safe as he could be at his hidden house.

The walls of the club were covered in larger-than-life photos of nude gay men from the seventies. One gorgeous twink was wearing a sailor hat and a seductive smile. Guy noticed a film showing on one wall—it looked to be soft gay porn, also from the seventies. Nice.

A young redhead approached his table, looking nervous. Here we go, Guy thought; this was why he rarely went to clubs unless he was planning to pick someone up. In spite of his fierce demeanor, or maybe because of it, subs flocked to him. The young man stopped at his table and stared at him, his eyes perusing Guy's bulging muscles and narrow hips. He looked like he was about to start drooling.

Guy refrained from smiling at him. He didn't want to encourage him.

The young man's blue-gray eyes were wide and clear. He finally found his voice: "We'd like to buy you a drink." He nodded toward a group of twinks a few tables over. They were all watching him, whispering and giggling.

Guy allowed himself a small smile. "I'm sorry. I'm working right now, so I'll pass."

"Juice, water?" the young man tried. He was so earnest it was painful to watch.

"No, nothing. Thanks." Guy hated to disappoint a whole table full of lovely young men, but he had no interest in them. Besides it was prudent. He wasn't sure if the vampire had made him or not, but he didn't want to give anyone the opportunity to drug him. The bartender was still giving him the evil eye.

"Well, maybe next time," the redhead said, trying to hide his disappointment. He gave Guy's body one final long perusal before slinking back to his table. Guy avoided watching him.

When the music paused Jon jumped down from the bar and disappeared through a doorway behind it. He emerged a few moments later wearing skintight jeans and a pink and white stripped tank T that contrasted beautifully with his nut-brown skin. He took a seat across from Guy, looking at him with dark, concerned eyes. "What's up? What do you mean, 'Tigger's safe'? Safe from what? Where is he?" Jon's words tumbled over each other.

Guy kept his voice low. "There was an attempt on Mel's life earlier this evening. He—"

Jon's eyes widened. "What!?" he interrupted. "How—?"

"He's fine," Guy interrupted back. "Perfectly unharmed, just a little shaken up. We believe it was the same man who attacked him on the street last weekend. In any case, Mel is now in protective custody."

"Protective custody? Who has him? Where is he?" Jon's voice was high-pitched.

"I can't tell you." Guy was about to go into more detail when Jon pulled out his phone and punched a button. "He doesn't have a phone anymore, if you're trying to call him," Guy said dryly.

Jon's expression flipped from worried to angry as he snapped his phone shut. "You took his cell? What the hell!"

Just then the tall bartender who had been glaring at Guy since his arrival appeared at Jon's side. "Sir." He spat the word out as if he were saying "Asshole." "I'll ask the bouncer to remove you if you continue to cause trouble."

Guy glanced at the bouncer who was watching them from across the room, trepidation written across his pale face. Guy couldn't help but smirk. "Him?" He stopped himself from giving his opinion of the timid bouncer and addressed the bartender coldly, "I'm not causing trouble."

"You're upsetting one of our employees, and you're loitering. You haven't even ordered a drink." He turned to Jon. "Come on, Jon. Why don't you go into the back room until we get this...," he stole a quick look at Guy, swallowed what he'd been about to say and continued, "man to leave."

Guy pulled a five dollar bill out of his pocket and threw it on the table. "I need to talk to Jon. It's business."

Jon shrugged off the bartender's hand, which was on his arm attempting to get him to stand up. "It's okay, Brad. I think he's a cop or something. Tigger was attacked earlier tonight. They're keeping him somewhere and Guy is here to tell me how to get in touch with him." He met Guy's glare with one of his own that was no less determined.

"Give me your phone number and I'll make sure he gets it," Guy said. "There is no way to get in touch with him right now. You'll have to wait until he calls you."

"But...."

"And you can't go home," he continued. Might as well get all the bad news out at once. He wasn't sure how long it would be before the bartender decided to call the police, and he was carrying a concealed weapon in a bar, which he was pretty sure even Ed would frown upon. "He's watching the apartment."

"The guy that attacked him last weekend?" Jon asked, putting the pieces together. "How did he find him?"

"We think he tracked him down through his phone."

"His phone?" Jon echoed in surprise. His anger appeared to have slipped back into worry. "What kind of...?" His eyes widened with a sudden realization. "Is it The Slasher?"

Guy stifled a groan. News had broken earlier in the day that there was a serial killer loose who liked to cut. The public had quickly dubbed him, "The Slasher." Guy had caught the story on the five o-clock news. A family member of the latest victim had gone immediately to the press with details about the condition of the body. To make matters worse, someone inside the department had caved and confirmed that there had been four victims in two months. The whole city was now in an uproar.

"We don't know," Guy lied. "We don't want to take any chances. We don't think he's after you; he seems to have fixated on Mel. But we don't think it's safe for you to go back to your apartment. Is there someplace else you can stay?"

"Yes," Jon answered slowly. "She won't like it, but my sister will put me up." His pace picked up while he was talking so that the words were soon gushing out. "I'd have to move the burbs though—ugh! And she'll be pissed if I show up at her doorstep at two a.m. And I'll need a ride out there. I need to go home and get all my stuff. I—"

"Jon ... Jon!" Brad had been trying to get his attention for some little while and now he finally laid a hand on his arm and raised his voice. "You can stay with me. I live close and it won't be any trouble at all."

Jon looked at him and blinked.

"I can give you a ride to your sister's place," Guy said, setting a baleful eye on the bartender. "And I can get some of your stuff for you, but you can't go back by your place until we know it's safe."

Just then the overhead lights came on.

"I need to go take care of things," Brad said. "You are totally welcome to stay at my place." His voice deepened and he added in a seductive tone, "I'd love to have you." He winked at Jon. "In any case, don't go anywhere with this guy. Talk to me before you leave." He shot Guy a final glare before heading back behind the bar.

Jon turned to Guy, his eyes pleading. "I need to go by the apartment and get my stuff. I don't have anything with me. If I'm going to spend the night somewhere I need my products."

Guy quirked an eyebrow at him. "Products?"

Jon flipped his long hair and batted his lashes at Guy. "How else do you think I manage to look so gorgeous?"

"You would be gorgeous no matter what, which is good because you can't go back to the apartment until I've had a chance to check it out."

"You've got to be kidding!" Jon said, his eyebrows coming together in an uncharacteristic frown. "How soon can I get in?"

"After I've verified it's safe, I can escort you, but that will be tomorrow at the earliest. So, are you going to stay with your sister or with Brad?"

"I could stay with you," he said, laying a light hand on Guy's broad chest. "I bet you could protect me." He looked up at Guy coyly from under long dark lashes.

Guy ignored the hand on his chest. "No."

Jon stuck out his lower lip in a pout that Guy would have found absolutely adorable if his mind wasn't already drifting back to Mel and wishing it was his scent that was filling his nostrils instead of Jon's. "Fine, I'll stay with Brad, at least for tonight. You sure Tigger is okay?"

"Yes, I'll have him call you." Guy pulled out his phone. "What's your number?"

Jon rattled off his number and Guy punched it into his phone. When he was done he hit send and a rap tune started coming from Jon's back pocket. "You've got my number now. Call me if you need anything at all, but don't mention Mel over the phone. I'll let you know when you can get back into the unit to get your stuff."

"Oh, this is so annoying!" Jon said in an irritated-diva voice as he turned to go back to the bar.

*****

"It was disgusting," Guy spat out. A tremor racked his body. "I could smell him the moment I entered the complex; the stench in their unit was overwhelming." His stomach churned, reminding him that it hadn't completely settled yet. He swallowed.

"Go on," Ed urged, his disembodied voice seeming to come from nowhere and everywhere in the small sterile room. An orderly was busy tapping electrodes to Guy's nude body as he lay on the narrow padded table, a thin sheet discreetly covering his genitals. He tried to ignore what was being done to him and focus on giving his report.

"The entire apartment was trashed. It looks like he broke everything breakable in the place—the TV, all the dishes, the speakers ... he tore the towel racks off the walls in the bathroom—a tornado would have done less damage. He was obviously one pissed-off vampire. Mel's bedroom was the worst. I'm not sure there's anything salvageable in there."

"Interesting.... Vampires usually show a little more control."

"Oh, he was definitely having a temper tantrum. He dumped all of Mel's clothes onto the bed and had a wank on them, and when he was done he peed all over everything." Guy made noise of disgust. "What a revolting creature."

"The forensics guys are there now," Ed said. "Hopefully there'll be enough fluid for us to get some more good samples."

"Oh, there's plenty of fluids."

The orderly finished attaching electrodes and started strapping Guy to the table.

"Is that really necessary?" Guy asked.

"You know the procedures, Salt," Ed said dryly. Guy had the impression that he was watching the proceedings. He glanced around looking for cameras but didn't see anything obvious. He held up his hand with his fingers curled and his middle finger sticking out.

"Yeah, I can see you," Ed acknowledged.

Guy smirked and then gritted his teeth as Ed said, "Let's get started with the Evaluation, shall we?"

*****

Tigger rolled over, snuggled into the big fluffy pillow, and was instantly wide awake. The pillow was way too soft and the linens smelled like roses. This wasn't his apartment. He sat up on his elbows, orienting himself, and then sank back into the comfortable bed.

Guy's guest accommodations were better than a five-star hotel. He could be happy here, except.... A small flurry of activity erupted in his belly. I wonder if he's home yet? Tigger felt like a teenager with a bad crush. Excitement, or maybe it was adrenaline mixed with lust, coursed through his veins. The bedside clock showed that it was 6:45 a.m. It was early for him to be up, but he wasn't likely to fall asleep again.

He climbed out of bed and donned his clothes from the day before. They weren't too dirty yet. He wondered which clothes Guy would bring for him and whether he would grab whatever seemed practical or if he would purposefully choose clothes that he wanted to see Tigger wear. Tigger had such a hard time reading Guy. He was pretty sure the older man was attracted to him, but he was also pretty sure that if Guy wanted something he would go for it. He didn't seem like the shy type; he seemed like a man who was used to getting what he wanted. But other than that one wild incident when he'd ejaculated all over his face, Guy seemed standoffish.

He's got a girlfriend, he told himself. Consuela. He wondered when he would meet her and whether he would be able to control is emotions when he did. He was already much too head-over-heels for Guy.

His stomach growled and he headed toward the kitchen. The house was two stories, the entire abode dug into the cliff, with the bedrooms on the bottom floor and the living/dining room and kitchen on the upper floor. Guy's bedroom was huge and had windows all along one wall with a sliding door out to the full deck which mirrored the deck on the top floor. Neither of the two guest bedrooms had windows, being on the cliff side of the house, but they were both well-lit and luxuriously appointed, each with its own en suite bathroom. Tigger had chosen the one decorated in shades of blue. The other was burgundy and Guy's own bedroom was, surprisingly, black and turquoise.

The main room downstairs was probably meant to be a casual entertainment area: there was a bar in the corner that appeared to be stocked only with bottles of water. Currently the room was being used as a home gym; it was filled with state-of-the-art workout equipment. No wonder Guy is so buff. It too had a window wall that led to the long deck. As Tigger traversed the workout room on his way to the spiral staircase he couldn't help but pause and look out. A low mist hung over the water, giving the place a surreal feel, as if he'd been dropped onto a misty water world.

Tigger found the kitchen and made himself a cup of coffee in the K-cup coffee maker. There was no sign of Guy. He sat at the small breakfast table and watched the mist dissipate slowly, his mind gently turning over the events from the day before. It was hard to believe he was living in Guy's house now. Corporate housing, he corrected himself. Looking around it was hard to believe. What kind of company does he work for? Who funds vampire hunters?

He shivered with the memory of those terrifying eyes. It was horrifying to think that the vampire had targeted him—was actively searching for him—but somehow he felt very safe in Guy's house. He would feel even safer if Guy were home.

He was fetching himself a second cup of coffee, still lost in thought, when a female voice spoke closely behind him, "Who are you?"

He jumped, his heart slamming against his ribs. He whirled around and the sight that met his eyes did nothing to settle his heart rate. Stepping back, he bumped into the counter behind him.

The woman was small of stature but no less formidable. She had brown skin and black hair that was liberally streaked with gray. Her face was etched with a million tiny age lines, but what stood out were long, angry scars that crisscrossed her cheeks, reddish purple against the nut brown. One of her eyelids hung half-closed due to more heavy scarring above it. The most striking thing about her were her piercing black eyes that bore into him with an intensity that laid him bare. His first impression was that she was a demon, but then he detected a very dark iris around her pupils. Not a vampire, then. That thought gave him little relief. The woman gave off an aura of macabre. She's a witch! he guessed. Judging from her appearance, it seemed likely.




Encounters with Evil Pt. 03



"I asked a question to you," she said, her voice heavily accented. Spanish was obviously her native language.

Tigger became aware that he was staring at her, his mouth agape. "Consuela?" he asked. She didn't acknowledge him but continued to glare menacingly. "Uh ... I'm Tigger—er—Melvin." He stuck out his hand automatically but was relieved when she ignored it. Somehow he felt that her touch would be ice-cold, like the demon's. His outstretched hand was shaking and he quickly pulled it back and rested it on the counter behind him.

"And what are you doing here?" she demanded.

Somehow "getting a cup of coffee" did not seem like the answer she wanted, and Tigger was pretty sure she didn't have a sense of humor. "I ... uh...." He wasn't sure how much he could or should tell her and he definitely didn't trust her. "Can you ask Guy that question?" he squeaked.

"I most certainly will." Her glare intensified. "Don't you dare get the floors dirty," she added.

Tigger almost burst into laughter at the absurdity of that comment, coming from someone he was sure delved in the dark arts. He managed to subdue his outburst; she might turn him into something unnatural if he laughed at her. At that moment Tigger became aware that she was holding a feather duster. Oh, she's Guy's housekeeper! He finally put the pieces together. The relief he felt at realizing this did nothing to ease the sense he had that she was evil.

"Oh, uh, Guy already warned me about the floors," he said.

She peered at him closely and he felt like she was sorting through his thoughts. A shiver went up his spine. Cripes! He wasn't sure what his expression was, or maybe she really could read his thoughts because she said, "You're a scrawny, nervous thing, aren't you?"

Tigger's mouth dropped open. Scrawny? I'm small, but I'm not scrawny. Nervous? Well, at the moment, yeah, but I'm not a 'thing!" He kept all those thoughts to himself as he watched her turn and make her way out the door, heavily favoring her left leg.

He took a deep breath and tried to calm himself. She hadn't bewitched him yet, he didn't think. Maybe she was just a housekeeper. At least she wasn't Guy's girlfriend, that much was clear. A small smile played around his lips as he turned back around and finished making himself a cup of coffee. Chapter Eleven

Tigger sat at the breakfast nook and watched the mist coalesce over the water, the fog burning off to reveal a bright blue sky overhead. Mt. Rainier became visible at the far end of the lake. The sight was breathtaking. The mist-shrouded lake stretched out in the foreground and the magnificent mountain rose out of the fog in the distance, the sun reflecting in shades of pink off its snowy peaks. Eventually the fog burned off from over the lake and the snow brightened to a brilliant white, but the view was no less incredible.

Tigger had found a book to read from the shelf in the living room, but he had only looked at a few pages. The scenery was too captivating and his thoughts were whirling with recent events. In spite of how frightening the vampire had been, visions of Guy as he burst through the door to rescue him—grim and invincible and sexy as sin— dominated his reflection.

He was hungry but he wanted to wait for Guy to join him for breakfast. He wondered what was taking him so long. Ten o'clock had come and gone. Tigger had silently checked to make sure he hadn't missed him, that he wasn't already in his bedroom. He kept a wary eye out for Consuela while he moved about the house. She was nowhere to be seen and he couldn't help feeling that she'd magicked herself away somewhere and might suddenly reappear at his elbow, or maybe she had just turned herself invisible and was standing silently right next to him at that very moment. He glanced around the room, shivering even though the sun shining through the window had warmed the kitchen nicely.

His stomach growled and he decided he shouldn't put off breakfast any longer. Either Guy would make it home in time to eat or he wouldn't. Tigger carefully steered his mind away from the worry that he might not come home at all.

He was just finishing frying up a batch of bacon and was getting ready to cook some scrambled eggs when he heard the swish of the elevator door. He tensed, sucking in a deep breath. He wasn't sure if it was Guy or Consuela—or even someone else. He spun to face the hallway, one eye searching the kitchen for something he could use as a weapon.

Almost immediately Guy stuck his head through the door, "Hey Consu—!" He cut himself off abruptly and a big grin spread across his face. "You cook!"

Tigger's heart didn't slow its pace, but rather sped up, hammering away for an entirely different reason. Guy's smile was like the sun coming out after a winter of endless rain. He couldn't help but beam back. "Not much. Mainly just breakfast."

"So I guess I shouldn't let Consuela go just yet," Guy said.

"Not if you know what's good for you." Consuela's voice suddenly came from right behind Tigger. He started and whirled to face her. She hadn't left after all, but where had she been this whole time?

She shook a bony finger at him. "Don't you mess up my kitchen," she warned. "I expect everything back in its place when you're done."

"Y ... yes, ma'am," Tigger replied automatically, trying not to stare at her scarred face and drooping eye.

Guy chuckled. "I see you've met Consuela. She's a pretty useless housekeeper, really. Her main strategy seems to be to badger you to clean up after yourself so that she doesn't have to."

"Hey, it works doesn't it?" Consuela said, her thin lips turning up slightly. "The house stays clean and you learn how to clean up after yourself. I think it's a win-win."

Tigger was shocked to hear her bantering good-naturedly with Guy, and even more shocked by the almost-smile. He hadn't thought she was capable.

"Mujer perezosa," Guy mumbled.

"Just for that, you can do your own breakfast dishes," she said. Casting a smug glance at Tigger, she added, "Or get your little boy toy to do them for you."

Tigger's hot retort was interrupted by a low growl from Guy. Both Tigger and Consuela looked at him in surprise. Tigger had been offended by her comment, but Guy appeared to be furious. He looked like he was about to bite Consuela's head off—literally.

Tigger's attention shifted back to Consuela who was regarding Guy with amusement. She didn't look a bit afraid. "Oi, he despertado el toro!" she said softly. "Eres muy protectiva del hombrecito." She looked at Tigger. "I am sorry if I offended you."

Tigger was surprised that she sounded sincere, and he had the distinct impression that apologies from her were rare indeed. Without waiting for a response from him, she slipped out the door, surprisingly agile on her gimp leg.

Tigger and Guy stared at each other. For some reason Tigger couldn't look away and Guy seemed in the same state. For a brief moment something flickered in Guy's eye. His stony façade dropped away and he looked almost vulnerable. They heard the swish of the elevator doors and it broke the spell. Guy went to the table and sank into a chair with a small sigh.

Tigger noticed he looked haggard—like he'd been through an ordeal. Of course he hadn't slept yet and he'd had a shootout with a vampire, but it seemed like something more. He had shrugged off the vampire Encounter almost immediately after it had happened, as if it were an everyday occurrence. Maybe for him it was. Tigger suspected that something else had upset him. He wanted to ask about it, but didn't think Guy would tell him and probably wouldn't appreciate the questions. "Do you want breakfast?" he asked instead. "How do you like your eggs?"

"Yes, thank you. Over easy." Guy gave Tigger a brief smile and some of the tension left his shoulders.

*****

Guy watched Mel move around his kitchen, making toast and finishing up the eggs. It gave him a warm feeling in his stomach to have him there. He felt almost like he was a kid again, watching his mother make breakfast for him. There was something very comforting about Mel's presence.

When Mel reached up into the cupboard to retrieve the honey, he had to stretch. As he did so his shirt rode up revealing a strip of bare ivory skin above the waistband of his tight jeans. Guy took in his toned abs and the slenderness of his torso. He pictured himself wrapping his large hands all the way around Mel's tiny waist. His mouth went bone-dry and the pleasant warmth that had settled in his stomach flared into a burning desire so hot it threatened to incinerate him.

Fuck! He tried to keep himself from panting. When Mel turned around and looked at him his eyes widened.

What is he seeing on my face? Guy immediately pulled his expression back to his usual cold mask while he fought to get his heart rate under control. He felt like he was no longer in charge of his own body. It was unnerving.

The Evaluation he had just undergone had disturbed him. Evaluations were always unpleasant. They would administer a drug to make him more cooperative, and then Ed would proceed with a grueling two-hour session of questions and answers while they measured everything from his heart rate to his brain waves to the level of perspiration on the surface of his skin. When they were over, he always felt like he'd been mentally raped.

This time was worse than usual because he was pretty sure they had found something wrong with him. Ed had not shared the results and he suspected that his employer didn't really know the cause of the problem. It was clear to everyone that he was going crazy over Melvin. Ed had admitted that he thought it was a side-affect of Guy's vampire-enhanced abilities. Not for the first time Guy cursed his bad luck. Sometimes it was definitely an asset to be faster than anyone else, to see better with his one real eye, to hear better, smell better, taste better, touch better ... all of his senses were enhanced. But sometimes it seemed like a curse. With this latest development—his obsession with Mel—he couldn't decide if it was a blessing or a curse. He was leaning toward curse.

In any case, Ed must have decided he wasn't dangerous because he was letting him continue with his regular activities but had set an appointment for another Evaluation in two-weeks. Guy groaned inwardly.

The toast popped up and Tigger plated and delivered breakfast to the table, setting out butter and honey for Guy to add to his own toast. Guy murmured thanks and dug in. The disquietude he had felt since his Evaluation was starting to fade, his stomach had settled, and he was starving.

Mel smiled at him as he sat down with his own plate. They ate in silence for a few minutes and then Mel asked, "Did you get Jon taken care of?"

More questions! Guy scowled at him and was immediately sorry when the young man's expression slid to hurt and he lowered his eyes. "I guess so," he answered contritely. "He's going to stay with the bartender, Brad, at least for a night or two, and then maybe at his sister's. I don't want him going back by the apartment."

"Oh," Mel said, his expression unreadable. "Brad's okay. He has a crush on Jon, I think. Jon likes him, but...." He trailed off, looking sheepish. "Why am I babbling on about Jon? He'll be fine with Brad. Did you get my stuff?"

"No." Guy wasn't sure what to tell Mel about that. He pushed his plate away, his hunger suddenly gone.

"No?" Mel sounded surprised. "When are you going to go get it?"

"I'm not," Guy answered shortly.

Mel raised his eyebrows. "Why not?" he demanded.

Guy glared at him. He didn't want to tell Mel that Valjevo had destroyed his apartment. His natural defense against questions was surliness.

Mel narrowed his eyes. "Guy, what happened? Why won't you go get my stuff?"

"Well..." Guy stood and walked to the window, buying time, gazing out across the glittering lake. But he had to tell Mel something and he couldn't lie to him about this. "I don't think you have much left," he said quietly.

"What do you mean?" Mel moved to stand next to him, looking up at him. Guy stared resolutely out the window, not wanting to meet Mel's eyes. His brain felt numb; he could not think of a single way to break the news to him gently.

"What happened?" Mel demanded, grabbing Guy's arm and trying to pull him around. Guy felt Mel's hand burning into his skin. The young man's scent hit him like a sledgehammer. A sudden vision consumed him: his angel, naked underneath him, looking up at him with hunger in his pale eyes. Stifling a groan, he jerked away and stepped back, trying to channel his desire into anger.

"Valjevo shredded all your stuff," he said coldly. Then he spun on his heel and fled downstairs to the sanctuary of his bedroom. Mel's tantalizing scent followed him.

*****

Tigger was more than frustrated. He was also restless, bored, and horny as hell. He had been at Guy's house for almost three weeks now, but he seldom saw the elusive vampire hunter. There were no pleasant evenings spent hanging out by the fire, no afternoons cuddling on the couch in front of a movie, no long walks on the beach. He got the distinct impression that Guy was trying to avoid him.

He couldn't avoid him entirely, of course. They usually had dinner together before Guy went to work, and that was the highlight of Tigger's day. Guy was sometimes in a good mood—he was certainly less surly at night than he was in the morning when he'd drag himself home with the dawn and scowl at everything Tigger said.

Guy had brought a computer home for Tigger to use and set him up with a VOIP account as promised. He'd also gotten him a cellphone, but had given it to him with strict orders never to call out on it unless it was a dire emergency. He'd told him that the phone was not setup to take incoming calls.

Tigger had withdrawn from school for the summer quarter and gotten most of his money back, and he'd called work to tell them that he had a family emergency and would be gone for an indefinite period of time. His boss was not at all happy and he wasn't sure he'd have a job when he was finally ready to go back, but there was nothing to be done about it. Guy wouldn't let him out of his house.

His mother was vexed at him for cancelling his Fourth of July visit, but she understood that his safety was more important. He talked to her and Jon every day, although it was difficult because he couldn't say much about himself. He was ever aware that their phones were probably tapped. He didn't want to tell them anything about himself for fear of giving Valjevo a clue to his whereabouts. He couldn't tell them what he was feeling and what he was doing, which was virtually nothing except lusting after Guy.

After just a few days with Brad, Jon had moved in with his sister, saying that Brad was nice, but too clingy. It was always the same story. Everyone Jon dated fell in love with him, but it was never reciprocated. Tigger wondered if his flighty friend would ever settle down.

The second day Tigger was in the house, the day that Guy brought home a computer for him, he had also given him a credit card to use for Internet shopping. They had had a big argument about it. Guy had told him that it was a corporate card and that his company would cover whatever he wanted to buy. Tigger was not sure he believed that. Why would Guy's company replace all his stuff? They weren't an insurance company after all.

But Guy had insisted and the name on the card was an alias, Michael P. Smith, so Tigger couldn't prove anything one way or another. In any case, he needed clothes and toiletries and Guy refused to let him use his own money. He said Valjevo would have a watch on it and it was too dangerous. So in the end he grudgingly trusted Guy and used the card.

He had used it sparingly though, buying only a few changes of casual clothes to wear around Guy's house, which was why he had to do laundry every few days. Today when he opened the dryer he discovered that it was full of Guy's clothes. He glanced around for a laundry basket but didn't see one.

The dryer was conveniently located in the hallway across from his bedroom. As he was standing in front of it wondering what to do, he heard Guy in the workout room. The big man let out a low grunt that sent a shiver of lust up Tigger's spine. He couldn't help but picture what Guy might look like working out. Tigger had been avoiding that particular temptation. Guy used his home gym almost every day, and Tigger stringently avoided going through the room when he was there. Guy obviously wasn't interested in him, he probably still thought of him as a kid, and Tigger was not going to force himself on anyone who didn't reciprocate his feelings.

Now, that sexy grunt drew him like a bee to nectar. Today he had an excuse to interrupt Guy during his workout. Before he could change his mind, he strode boldly to the end of the hall and entered the gym room. "Guy, what should I do with..." He broke off his sentence as all the air left his lungs in a whoosh. The sight that met his eyes took his breath away.

Guy was lying on a bench, pressing a large barbell over his chest. He was wearing a tank top and shorts, which showed off his straining muscles entirely too well. They glistened with a sheen of sweat. They bulged to amazing proportions. Even his thigh muscles were well-defined, taut with the effort of lifting the massive weight. Not only did Guy have the most perfectly sculpted body ever, the scent of his efforts permeated the room. Fresh, hot, male sex. Tigger's knees went weak.

Guy glanced in his direction. "What do you need?" he grunted out as he slowly lowered the barbell back down to his chest.

Oh my! You! I need you! Tigger open his mouth but the only sound that came out was a breathy huff. He swallowed. Guy seemed to be focused on his barbell, and Tigger took a few seconds to compose himself. "I ... you left your clothes in the dryer. I wasn't sure ... aren't you supposed to have someone spotting you while you're doing that?"

"Like who?" Guy asked, quirking an eyebrow at him.

Tigger was pretty sure the big man was teasing him, because he knew he'd be useless when it came to preventing that giant weight from crushing his chest. His eyes riveted back to said chest. Guy was pushing the weight back up. Tigger watched his gorgeous muscles bulge again, the veins on his biceps standing out in stark relief against his tan skin. Guy's jaw was clenched, but his lips were slightly parted. Panting. Tigger was panting himself. He became aware that his cock was diamond hard, tenting the front of his sweatpants obscenely. His face flushed with embarrassment, but he was unable to move, unable to look away. It was as if Guy had cast a spell that kept him frozen to the spot.

With another manly grunt, Guy lifted the barbell higher and slid it carefully into its resting place. Sitting up, he grabbed a small towel and mopped off his face. Tigger's eyes were drawn to his shorts, which had slid up higher on his leg as he sat up. Guy's thighs were as thick as Tigger's own waist, solid muscle, and covered with luscious dark curls. Yum!

When Guy stood up, Tigger's eyes snapped to his face. What he saw in the big man's eyes was ravenous and feral. It sent a sudden chill through him. Guy stalked toward him like a lion cornering his prey. Tigger took a few involuntary steps backward until his back hit the wall. Adrenalin coursed through his system. He acknowledged that on some level he was afraid. Guy looked almost berserk. He was definitely out of control. But Tigger also knew that he wanted this. He wanted to drive Guy over the edge, to have him lose the iron control he had over himself, to make him go mad with lust and take him to places he'd never been.




Encounters with Evil Pt. 03



Tigger's could hear his heart pounding with excitement. Yes! Oh yes!

*****

Guy had been going crazy since Mel had moved in. Actually it had started when he first met him, but since they'd been living together it had reached a whole new level of extreme. For one thing, Mel's scent was everywhere. Guy would walk into his house and become instantly hard. He seemed to be living with an erection that no amount of jacking off could diminish. In spite of how hard he tried to control his thoughts, they were filled with lustful images of Mel. He couldn't shut them off. He even dreamt of Mel, and often woke up with the sheets soaking wet. He wasn't sure how much longer he'd be able to keep from molesting the young man, and that was the last thing he wanted. Mel was vulnerable. If they started a sexual relationship, it would be too painful for him when Guy was killed. And killed he would be, sooner or later, probably sooner. Best to keep his distance.

So he avoided the beautiful boy, but he also felt sorry for him, stuck in the house by himself day-after-day with no one to talk to except Consuela. As far as he could tell Mel tried to stay out of her way, and he couldn't say he blamed him—she was kind of scary. As a consolation to both himself and Mel, he ate dinner with him every evening, but he sat at the far end of the table and finished his meal as quickly as possible. He kept up a carefully built façade of aloofness, but inside he was melting down.

Today, as soon as Mel entered his workout room, Guy's famous focus evaporated. It was sheer luck that allowed him to do another press and get the barbell back on the stand. He tried not to look at Mel. He could smell him and that was bad enough. The scent was full of pheromones, Mel's own unique brand that sent Guy into a tailspin every time. This time the scent was heavily laced with desire, further challenging Guy's control. As he wiped the sweat off his face, the temptation to look at the young man became too much.

Mel was staring at him with huge, hungry eyes. He was fully aroused; if Guy hadn't detected it in his scent, he surely couldn't have missed his long cock poking into the front of his sweats. The clingy fabric outlined the head clearly, and a wet spot was starting to form. Guy scented the air again, this time picking up the distinctive odor of Mel's precum. He suppressed a groan as he climbed to his feet, lust spiraling wildly through his system.

Roaring filled his ears as he observed the object of his desire, tiny and beautiful and exquisitely provocative. Dizziness swept over him. He could feel his blood coursing through his veins, hot like fire. Need! Need him. Need to be in him. The thoughts in his brain did not seem to belong to him. His body moved on its own accord toward Mel who backed up against the wall.

He heard a low growl come out of his throat as he advanced quickly on his quarry. He picked Mel up easily and slammed him into the wall, just managing to control the force of his actions so that he didn't damage his angel. Sliding his thigh between Mel's legs, he pushed himself against the smaller man, pinning him to the wall. His mouth descended on Mel's and his tongue forced its way in, thrusting down his throat. A loud groan escaped him as he tasted his angel: coffee, pastries, and a sweetness that was all Mel.

Mine! Mine! Mine! his mind echoed as he ran his hands up and down Mel's lithe torso. A tiny, tiny voice way back in his brain cried, "What are you doing? Stop!" But there was no way he could stop. This is so right, so perfect. I need to claim him. He's mine. He's my mate. Guy was driven by a powerful, all-consuming instinct. His logical, empathetic mind had disappeared.

Some part of Guy noticed that Mel was reciprocating his passion. His angel whimpered and wrapped his arms around his neck, pushing his tongue against Guy's with wild abandon. The younger man's legs wrapped tightly around Guy's torso, thrusting his leaking erection against Guy's stomach. Guy let out another groan of desire as Mel rocked against him. His angel's whimpers were high-pitched and desperate.

His hands slipped behind to grab Mel's ass. He squeezed the firm globes as he pulled him even closer. He couldn't get enough. He couldn't get close enough. Without breaking the kiss, which was so rough it was more ravishment than kiss, he grabbed Mel's T-shirt with both hands and pulled. It resisted for a brief second and then shredded apart. Skin! Bare skin! The scent was overwhelming. He was just about to sink his teeth into Mel's pale exposed shoulder when he caught sight of his angel's face.

The young man's expression was one of shock and fear.

Guy froze. What the hell are you doing? The tiny voice in the back of his mind was much louder now. Then he caught the scent of fear mixed in with Mel's pheromones. I'm scaring the crap out of the poor kid. That realization was like a cold slap in the face. Shame washed over him so strong it made his stomach cramp. He disengaged, slowly lowering Mel to the floor. Stepping back he drew a deep, shuddering breath and then turned and fled down the hall. As he passed he saw the dryer standing open, full of his clothes. Without thought, he scooped the clothes into his arms and continued down the hall to his bedroom. Once inside he tossed them onto the nearest chair, slammed the door, and leaned against it, closing his eyes in pain. His heart felt shredded.

What have I done? What was I about to do? I almost raped him! I could have ... would have ... if—. A shudder of horror shook his body and a moan of agony came out of his mouth. I need help. I can't live like this. I can't hurt him. I couldn't live with myself if I hurt him.

His thoughts were cut off by the sound of Mel coming down the hallway. The young man paused outside his door. He could smell him there, no longer afraid, but still emitting lustful pheromones. When the roaring started up in his ears again, he fell to his knees. Holy Mary, Mother of Christ, please give me strength. Give me strength to withstand this burning desire. He clenched his fists tightly. His cock was achingly hard.

When Mel's footsteps retreated to his own bedroom, he breathed a sigh of relief. He heard the door close and the lock snick into place. Then his super sensitive hearing picked up the sound of fabric rustling, followed by the distinctive rhythmic sound of a hand sliding up and down a hard cock.

Oh God! He's jacking himself. Guy could not have resisted listening if he tried. His hand went into his own shorts and wrapped around his too-swollen member. He bit his lip to keep from crying out as he began to stroke himself very slowly. He heard Mel's soft but frantic whimpers—he was obviously trying to keep quiet. Guy could picture the scene: Mel's beautiful face flushed with desire, his eyes heavy with lust, his full lips open, panting and whimpering. He suppressed a groan. Precum leaked liberally out of his own cock as he continued his excruciatingly slow caress.

His angel's rhythm quickened and his sounds became more desperate. Guy squeezed his eyes shut and panted quietly. He could feel every nerve in his body and they were all on fire.

Then he heard Mel cry out. It was a desperate, needy, out-of-control cry, and garbled as it was, he thought it had his name in it. The cry was followed immediately by the sound of cum hitting the hardwood floor. He could tell it was a lot of cum going some distance. His mind supplied a picture to go with the sounds.

He squeezed his own hot sex reflexively. In spite of his efforts to suppress it, a loud groan came out of his mouth when his cock erupted. His world dimmed as flames swept over his body. He was sure he was going to disappear in a pile of ash. He was surprised several minutes later when he found himself still alive, sitting on the floor of his bedroom, leaning against the door. His shorts were soaked, his heart rate was elevated, and alas, his cock was still hard.

*****

Tigger whimpered softly as Guy lowered him to the floor. The big man's expression was stony, as usual. His jaw was clenched. He barely glanced at Tigger. Without a word, he turned and strode out of the room.

What the hell?

Tigger's head whirled with confusion. He couldn't sort out his thoughts. He could still feel the impression of Guy's devouring mouth on his lips. He had never been kissed like that—not even close. It was the most forceful, lustful, wild, passionate kiss ever. His legs felt like jelly. He gulped in a huge lungful of air in an effort to clear his head.

That was unbelievable. Guy totally dominated me. He hadn't given him a choice; he had just taken what he wanted. He was so strong, Tigger hadn't even tried to fight while Guy manhandled him and kissed him senseless—hell Guy could have done anything he wanted to him and there wasn't anything Tigger could have done about it except scream. Scream in ecstasy, his mind told him. You loved every second of it, even if it was a bit frightening.

Why does he run every time something sexual happens? Coward!

He almost laughed at his choice of words. Guy was anything but a coward when it came to fighting vampires, but when it came to intimacy he seemed to be terrified.

Now that his wits were gathering about him a bit, Tigger became aware of his cock screaming for attention. He climbed slowly to his feet and made his way into the hallway. The dryer was empty and Guy's bedroom door was closed.

A pair of Guy's black silk briefs were on the hallway floor. He picked them up and smelled them, disappointed that the only scent he could detect was clean laundry. He went to Guy's bedroom door and hesitated.

Glancing down at himself, he saw that his shredded shirt hung off his arms and his cock was still rock hard. It had leaked copiously all over his sweats. Shame washed over him. I can't knock on his door like this. I'm not going to chase after him like some lovesick teenager. Wadding the underwear into a tight ball in his clenched fist, he retreated to own room. Closing and locking the door, he leaned against it, letting out a huff of frustration.

His balls felt like they were about to boil over. How could he kiss me like that and then just leave me? He yanked his sweats down and grabbed his cock with the hand that still held Guy's silk briefs. The sensation of the cool fabric on his hot shaft caused him to catch his breath. He rubbed the smooth material up and down his length, gasping with the delight. Biting his lip, he tried to keep his needy whines inside as he worked himself with Guy's briefs. The memory of Guy pinning him against the wall and forcing his tongue down his throat had him immediately skirting the edge of orgasm. He was almost sobbing with need. He wanted Guy so badly it hurt.

He pictured Guy naked, throwing him down on the bed. Guy's cock would be huge and gorgeous. He would bend over and bite his rosy nipple. Tigger's unoccupied hand stole up to pinch a sensitive nub, causing his hips to snap forward. Before his imaginary Guy could even finger his needy hole, his balls drew up and tingles raced through his body. With a strangled cry, he came in great spurts. Hot jets of white liquid expelled from his cock to splash across the hardwood floors. As he slid slowly down the wall, gasping for breath and barely conscious, he heard a muffled groan. Realization of what it was hit him: Guy had just cum too.

Oh my God! Is he as horny as I am? Does he want me as much as I want him? Why doesn't he just take me?

Whatever the problem was, Tigger vowed to overcome it. There was no sign of a girlfriend. In fact, Guy didn't even seem to have friends or family. He needed to get a life outside of work, and that life needed to be with Tigger. There was no way in hell he was going to let Guy avoid him anymore. He was going to seek him out. He was going to force himself on the big man. Come hell or high water or crazy vampires, he was going lose his virginity to Guy, and soon.



Encounters with Evil Pt. 04



"It's not going to cure you, Salt. It's just going to take the edge off. We can't give you anything stronger without compromising your effectiveness as a field agent."

Guy was perched on the edge of his chair in a small sitting room at EERIE headquarters. He was too keyed up to relax. He wanted to pace back and forth, but the room was so tiny it precluded that. He stared at the miniscule pink pill in his hand. "I don't like doing drugs," he grumbled.

"It's your choice, of course. My recommendation is that we move Melvin to a different safe house."

"No!" Guy's voice was louder than he expected. He wanted to glare at Ed, but as always, his elusive boss was not physically present. "He needs to stay with me." He popped the pill into his mouth and swallowed. I hope to hell this works.

He had called Ed shortly after his retreat from Mel and begged him for help with the overwhelming feelings of lust he was having toward the young man. He didn't trust himself to not to do something disastrous.

His obsession with Mel was taking its toll. He couldn't focus on work; perhaps it was a blessing that the vampire seemed to have dropped off the face of the earth. He was so strung out on Mel pheromones, he was afraid that if he did run into Valjevo, he wouldn't be able to fight. He wasn't sleeping well, and there was a constant gnawing in his gut that had never been there before. The only time his skin wasn't crawling was when he was with Mel, but perhaps that was because when he was with the beautiful young man, the only thoughts in his head were, "Mine, mine, mine!" and "Fuck him NOW!"

"We also made a tracker for Mel," Ed continued.

"It won't work in the house," Guy reminded him.

"Yes, I know that." Ed had no patience with stupidity, and it was apparent in his voice that Guy was being obtuse. "This is just in case something happens and we need to get him out of your house. Or if Valjevo figures out where he's at and kidnaps him, we'll at least have a way to find him."

Of course. I should have thought of that. My brain is scrambled. That boy has me every which way but right-side-up.

"It's on the table to your left," Ed was saying.

Guy looked on the indicated end table and saw two things, a gold crucifix on a sturdy chain and a thumb drive. He picked up the crucifix, turning it over in his hands. There was no sign of the miniature tracking device that Guy knew must be hidden in it. "Very funny, Ed. What if he doesn't want to wear it? I have no idea if he's even Christian."

"I'm sure you'll think of something," Ed said dryly.

Guy picked up the thumb drive. "I'm assuming that this is the contents of his hard drive?" Mel's computer had been snapped in half by Valjevo during his rampage but not completely destroyed.

"Yes, Bobby managed to get everything off of it, so he's got his files back at least. That boy is a serious geek."

Guy felt a throbbing in his temple and knew that the bulging vein there would indicate to Ed that he was intensely irritated with him for going through Mel's files. Even remote, Ed missed nothing. "He doesn't work for you, you know. You don't have the right to paw through his personal stuff."

"Since when have I followed the rules? I'll use every piece of information I can get if it gives me an edge in fighting these demons. You know that, Salt. You signed up anyway."

"Yes, I signed up. Mel has not. Leave him and his stuff alone."

"He's actually quite brilliant, you know. He could make a great addition to our team."

"No! Absolutely not!"

"It's his decision, not yours."

Guy had no idea what Ed actually looked like, but he'd talked to him so much over the past twelve years he'd developed a firm picture in his mind of a small man in his forties who was thin but wiry. At Ed's words, Guy's vision went red. If his boss had been standing in the room with him, Guy was sure his big hands would be around Ed's scrawny neck, squeezing.

"Christ, Guy! Your blood pressure just went off the charts. You need to calm down."

"How do you know about my blood pressure?" Guy asked taking a deep breath to calm himself.

"We're doing amazing things with technology these days. You'd be surprised what I can find out about a person."

"Well, leave Mel out of it. I don't want you recruiting him. I don't want you talking to him. I don't even want you looking at him—or at any of his stuff."

"Sheesh! Possessive much?"

He's mine! Guy almost growled that out loud. It was luck more than anything that allowed him to bite his tongue. He scowled fiercely.

"Don't worry. I won't say anything to Mel just yet," Ed assured him. "He can't help us while Valjevo is so bent on getting to him anyway."

This time a growl did come out, from deep in Guy's throat. "Valjevo!" He said the vampire's name like a cuss word. "Haven't you found anything I can go on yet? I know he's still here in the area."

"We're working on it, Salt."

*****

Tigger ran the silk of Guy's briefs through his fingers. Heat washed through his body and he felt his cock start to plump.

Shit! I have to get these back to Guy before they need to be washed again. It had been two days since he had christened Guy's underwear in the aftermath of that unbelievable kiss, and now they were fresh from the dryer. It was late in the evening; Guy was out vampire-hunting, and Consuela had long since gone home—he hoped.

He tiptoed across the hall to the door of Guy's room, wondering why he was bothering to be quiet. He managed to keep himself from knocking. Instead he cracked the door slightly, fumbled for the light switch, and peeked inside.

Guy's room was restful. The furniture was sleek and black with clean lines. One wall was turquoise, a color that was picked up by the pillows on the bed and a couple of wing-back chairs. Stepping into the room, he saw that there was a beautifully painted mural of a sunset over a tropical beach on one wall. The opposite wall was all window with a view of the dark lake, and another wall was almost entirely mirrored.

The bed was made and everything seemed to be in its place. Tigger wondered if that was Consuela's doing or if Guy was naturally neat. He eyed the bureau. One of the drawers should hold Guy's underwear; he needed to the get the pair in his hand back to its mates. His hands shook slightly as he opened the top drawer on the left-hand side.

Holy shit! Tigger stared at the contents of the drawer, his heart pounding loudly in his ears. The first thing he noticed was the handcuffs. They were standard, metal, police-issued cuffs and were nestled next to some leather cuffs and lengths of soft-looking rope. His wide eyes wandered to the butt plugs, all lined up neatly in order of size. The largest several looked huge. There were a couple of colorful vibrators, an assortment of cock rings and nipple clamps, and an odd-looking contraption that Tigger guessed was a cock cage. His hand reached out and hovered over the device. As soon as he realized that he was about to pick it up and examine it, he jerked his hand away as if he'd been burned and slammed the drawer shut.

He stood for a moment panting, his body flushed with heat. His cock had become instantly stone hard. Damn! He could not keep his imagination from running wild with thoughts of what Guy could do to him with all that stuff.

In a daze, he quickly pulled open the next drawer down. The contents of that drawer caused him to sink to his knees, gasping. Several whips lay on top of some coiled chains. On one side was a tall stack of magazines. The cover of the top one depicted a huge man dressed all in leather, brandishing a long whip. He was standing in front of a smaller naked man who was chained to large wooden structure. Tigger stared at the picture. Do people really do that?

His eyes wandered to the whips. He could not stop himself from reaching out and fingering the cat-o-nine-tails. It was surprisingly soft, the falls being made of a velvety fabric instead of leather or rope. Tigger wondered if it would even hurt. Some of the other implements in the drawer looked like they would definitely hurt. There was a paddle off to one side, and in the back Tigger spotted what looked like a riding crop. His cock was making puddles of precum in his underwear.

With a whimper he yanked his sweats down, dropped the silk briefs off to the side, and grabbed his leaking staff. Using the clear flow as a lubricant, he started a quick rhythm. From his position on his knees on the floor of Guy's bedroom, he looked at the bed through lust-slit eyes and noticed that there were large eyehooks screwed into the wooden frame of both the head and footboards. His brain immediately supplied a vision of himself chained spread-eagled on the bed while Guy attached nipple clamps.

A wail of need came out of his mouth. His whole body shuddered as stars shimmered at the edge of his vision. Ecstasy washed over him, starting in his balls and spreading out, flowing down his limbs and taking away awareness of everything except intense pleasure.

When his orgasm finally faded, he found himself sitting on the floor of Guy's bedroom, fighting to get air into his lungs. The polished oak was liberally spattered with his cooling jism. Oh God! He had been so turned on by the things he'd seen in the drawers that it had taken less than thirty seconds for him to beat himself off. I can't believe I jacked myself in Guy's bedroom. How pathetic is that?

He climbed to wobbly feet, closed the drawer with the whips and chains, and tucked his cock back into his sopping underwear. His sweats weren't much drier. Staggering into the bathroom, he wet a washcloth and returned to quickly wipe up the evidence of his transgression. He felt panic setting in, sure that Guy would come home any minute and catch him, even though he wasn't due home until dawn. Maybe he'd tie me up and punish me. His spent cock twitched and he stifled a groan. You can't think about that right now. You need to put those underwear away and get the hell out of here, he told himself sternly.

Leaving the washcloth on the floor, he grabbed the briefs and contemplated the dresser warily. Most people keep underwear in a top drawer, he reasoned. Cautiously he opened the middle top drawer to find it was full of socks. He started to giggle. Okay. Yes. Of course he owns socks. It just seemed too mundane for the larger-than-life dom.

Just before he closed the drawer, he spotted a black eye patch sitting in the front corner. He had never looked closely at Guy's eye patch. When the man was there in person, he was too intimidating for Tigger to study. Something about the fabric of the eye patch caught his eye, and he picked it up curiously.

Light shown through the black material. What the hell? Tigger held it up in front of one of his eyes and looked around the room. He could see clearly through the covered eye. A chill went up his spine. Why would Guy cover up an eye that he can see out of? What is he hiding? His active imagination immediately began to furnish him with a series of grotesque images. He dropped the eye patch back into the drawer and slammed it shut with trembling hands.

He considered making a quick retreat, but he still held the black briefs in his hand. Steeling his nerves, he opened the third top drawer and found an assortment of underwear, all neatly folded. With a small sigh of relief, and trying not to look through Guy's underwear stash lest he find something else shocking, he carefully folded the black briefs to match the others in the drawer and laid them where they seemed to belong.

Mission accomplished. Go now!

He snatched up the soiled washcloth and was almost to the door when something stopped him. He did not contemplate the merits of the idea that occurred to him, but rather acted on it right away. Returning to the drawer with the magazines, he pulled one out at random from the middle of the stack and tucked it under his arm. After one last glance around the room showed him that everything was where it should be, he fled to the safety of his own bedroom.

Even after a long relaxing shower, which included another Guy-inspired jack-off session, he had trouble falling asleep. His mind whirled with the things he had seen in Guy's bedroom. Every time he found something else out about the vampire hunter, it led to more questions than answers. He is obviously totally into the BDSM scene, but who does he play with? What could he be hiding behind that eye patch? Why does he have supernatural abilities? What the hell is he?

Tigger fingered the crucifix that lay warm against his bare chest. Guy obviously wasn't a demon. When he had given Tigger the cross, he had handled it reverently and admitted to being catholic. No, he admitted to having been raised catholic, Tigger corrected himself. He could not help but feel a warm glow at the memory of Guy's face when he'd handed him the crucifix. It felt as if Guy was giving him present—that maybe Guy cared for him.

Tigger let out a snort of frustration. If he likes me, why won't he spend time with me? The crucifix probably meant nothing more than what Guy had said it meant. It was not a gift but simply a device to help protect him from demons. Tigger's failure to seduce Guy, failure to even engage him in meaningful conversation, was extremely discouraging. The man was impossible to pin down, more slippery than an eel. Tigger realized that even though he'd been living in Guy's house for three weeks now, he really knew almost nothing about him.

*****

As Guy stepped into the elevator that took him to his home, he didn't think he could get more discouraged. Night after night he waited in the shadows of the most likely places for vampires to frequent: dimly-lit night clubs, city parks, alleyways, and dark, quiet lanes. He had gone over every piece of evidence from the murders until he had them all memorized. Other members of EERIE's elite staff had looked as well. There was no pattern, no clue to where Valjevo might be hiding or where he would choose his next victim. Time was running out. The demon was surely getting hungry; vampires typically killed about once a month. Like snakes, one big feeding would last them awhile. Sometimes they had other means of getting blood, such as keeping human captives and feeding off them slowly over time. Guy did not let himself think about that.

He had looked through all the missing persons reports, trying to determine whether any of them had been taken by the vampire or if they were missing for other reasons. It was impossible to tell for sure. Even those with a history of going missing or running away could still be victims. The bodies might never be found, although Valjevo seemed to like to show off his kills—they were particularly gruesome.

Guy desperately wanted to take out Valjevo before he killed again. Once he had his sites on a vampire, he was riddled with guilt over all subsequent victims, sure that if he'd been smarter or more dedicated he could have prevented the murders. Ed always assured him that that was not the case, that he'd tried his best and that was all he could do, but he still couldn't help his feelings of remorse.

The elevator slid open with a soft swish. He took a deep breath of Mel-scented air and immediately felt his mood lighten. His heart rate sped up as he detected the young man moving around in his kitchen. Once I take out Valjevo, I won't have a reason to keep him with me.

Mel can't stay here anyway, he told himself sternly. There is no future for us, and the sooner we forget about each other, the better it will for both of us. He knew he didn't really believe this, for himself anyway. His angel was the light of his life, the only positive thing to happen to him in a long, long time, and when he thought about Mel walking out his door for good, it brought a stabbing pain to his chest.

Mel's smiling face appeared in the kitchen doorway, and happiness washed over him. He grinned back at the young man. His cock also responded to Mel's presence, and once more he found himself fighting his libido for control. Mel's lips were so succulent—redder than usual, as if he'd been biting them. He couldn't help but stare. His jeans became uncomfortably tight. Those damn pink pills didn't seem to do much of anything.

"I made pancakes and sausage," Mel said.

"It smells good," Guy replied, although in truth he hadn't noticed anything other than Mel. He smelled like sex.

Wide aqua eyes searched his face as Mel stepped closer and reached for his arm. "You'll eat breakfast with me?"

The beast inside Guy roared with desire. He took several quick steps backward, avoiding the touch that he knew would do him in. "I told you not to touch me," he growled.

Mel's smile disappeared and the twinkle in his eyes gave way to hurt. His face was so expressive, every emotion was apparent.

Damn! Guy's insides twisted at the pain he had caused his angel. He felt like he had kicked a puppy. The poor kid was probably desperately lonely, but Guy knew he couldn't stay in the same room with Mel—not when he smelled like that. "I've already eaten," he lied as he turned and took the stairs two at a time to the lower floor.

As he descended the staircase, the scent of Mel's cum hit him like a tidal wave. He could tell Mel jacked off a lot, two or three times a day at least. And he understood this. Mel was only twenty-one and he was probably bored out of his skull. Hell, he himself was jacking off at least that much, and it didn't even seem to take the edge off his lust. He hurried to his bedroom. Usually the scent was strongest by Mel's bedroom door, but today as he opened the door to his own room, the scent enveloped him. Clearly Mel had jacked off in his bedroom.

Right here on the floor in front of my dresser, about ten hours ago, his senses told him. With a groan of need, Guy's fingers flew to his fly, letting his fully engorged cock out of his jeans. He made short work of his own erection, imagining what Mel had looked like on the floor of his bedroom pleasuring himself. As his own cum splashed out to mingle with the scent of Mel's, he let out a low guttural cry and grabbed the edge of the dresser to keep from going down.

As he recovered from his orgasm, he realized that Mel had been in his drawers. The lighter scent of his hands was on the drawer handles. Guy investigated with his nose and discovered that Mel had been in his paraphernalia drawers, his sock drawer, and his underwear drawer. He opened each drawer and determined that Mel had touched a few things.

He'd taken a magazine. Interesting. He'd picked up one of his eye patches. He has no doubt figured out that I can see out them. Guy groaned inwardly. The irrepressible young man would be full of questions he wasn't at liberty to answer, of that he was sure. And lastly, Mel had fingered a pair of his underwear. No, more than fingered. Guy brought the underwear up to nose. Mel had cum on his underwear and then washed them. Guy's cock exploded into rock-hard readiness again.

*****

Tigger was miserable. He'd been at Guy's house for exactly a month now. He had nothing to do except moon over his unrequited love and jack off. He spent much of his time on the Internet, playing games or surfing. He did some research on vampires but didn't find anything that he felt was believable or reliable. He longed to ask Guy questions, but not only was his host almost never there, he was taciturn. He answered all of Tigger's questions as briefly as possible and sometimes not at all. Although Guy often seemed happy to see him at first, he would quickly become brusque, bordering on rude. He wondered if Guy was schizophrenic; even Tigger's bipolar friend, David, didn't have such rapid mood swings. One thing Tigger was sure of: Guy was as unhappy as he was.




Encounters with Evil Pt. 04



They didn't eat meals together anymore. Guy ate out most of the time, but Tigger discovered that sometimes he would sneak into the kitchen and raid the refrigerator. Other than the occasional beaming smile when he got home, Guy seemed to want nothing to do with him. He effectively thwarted every attempt Tigger made to seduce him, and the young man was at wit's end.

It was mid-morning when Tigger went into the kitchen to fill up his water bottle in preparation for making use of Guy's home gym. He stopped short when he saw Consuela pulling containers out of the refrigerator, a scowl making her countenance even scarier than usual. He started to back out of the kitchen, but she had already spotted him.

"You are not eating my food," she accused. "You are letting it all rot in the back of the refrigerator."

"I'm sorry. I've been eating it, but you're making way more than I can eat by myself." Tigger replied, bristling. "Guy doesn't eat here anymore," he added bitterly.

"No?" Consuela paused and fixed a piercing eye on Tigger, making him intensely uncomfortable. "Why not?"

"I ... I don't know. I don't think he likes me."

Consuela gave a snort. "What are you talking about? The man is over the moon for you."

Tigger studied her grim face, trying to figure out if she was teasing him cruelly.

She reached out and put a gnarled hand on his arm. Tigger was surprised that it was warm. He managed not to flinch away.

"He is totally infatuated with you, chico, but he's afraid," she said softly, patting his arm.

"Of what?" Tigger asked, not quite believing her. Still, something in her words rang true. "Why on earth would he be afraid of me?"

"I'm not sure, but I suspect he's either afraid of getting hurt himself, or he's afraid of hurting you. Or both. It's up to you to get him past that."

While Tigger's heart beat a rapid rhythm of hope, he marveled at the sudden change in Consuela. She seemed almost kind, but he didn't trust her intentions. "How?"

"You need to seduce him."

"I've been trying, but I almost never see him. When I do, he won't come near me." Tigger had braved filling his water bottle, and now he took a long swallow.

"Well, you live in the same house; it can't be that hard to catch up with him. You need to do something he can't refuse. Climb into his bed naked and wake him up with a blowjob or something."

Tigger choked on the water going down his throat and ended up spraying some of it into the sink, coughing. He could not believe she had just said that.

She patted him on the back, chuckling.

"He'd probably shoot me," Tigger gasped out, trying to catch his breath. "He sleeps with his gun next to him."

"Well, you'll think of something," she said with a smug smile. "Let me know if you need help."

"Why would you help me?" Tigger asked. He didn't understand this complete turnaround in Consuela's attitude.

"Why wouldn't I?" she asked.

Other than accusing her of not liking him, Tigger didn't have an answer for that.

*****

It didn't take long for Tigger to come up with a plan. The magazines he'd been borrowing from Guy gave him lots of ideas, but it took a while to put his plan into action, mainly because he was a coward.

However, the morning that Guy came home, showered, shaved and put on a suit, Tigger was so blown away with how gorgeous he looked, it lent him courage. Guy told Tigger that he had a meeting with his financial consultant, and felt he got more respect if he dressed like he knew what he was doing. Tigger couldn't imagine Guy ever not looking like he knew what he was doing.

Guy had eaten breakfast with him for the first time in weeks. Tigger watched him hungrily from across the table. He almost seemed like a different person. Tigger had never seen him so smoothly shaven, and his crisp white shirt looked amazing against his tan skin. Guy glanced up from his plate and smirked at him. He knows how fucking awesome he looks, the bastard, Tigger thought.

When Guy donned his jacket, Tigger had to admit he looked like the epitome of a confident young executive, or perhaps a cover model for GQ magazine. His tailored gray Armani suit fit him perfectly. His tangerine, diamond-patterned tie was Brioni and his spotless shoes were Mezlan. When Tigger asked, he admitted that he'd bought them in Italy six months earlier. By the time Guy walked out the door, Tigger was practically salivating.

It's now or never, he thought. Screwing up his courage, he sought out Consuela. "I have a plan," he told her. "I don't need your help, but I'd feel much more comfortable if you weren't here for the big seduction."

She let out a laugh that was surprisingly girlish. "Well, I'll leave you to it then. Good luck."

Tigger wondered how long Guy would be gone. He had been afraid to ask for fear of raising his suspicions. He assumed somewhere between one and three hours. He took a shower, making sure to clean all his nooks and crannies well. Then he trimmed his pubic hair. He wasn't sure what Guy's preference was in that regard, clean shaven or natural, so he went for something in between.

After carefully shaving his sparse facial hair, he spent some time arranging his soft curls into what he hoped was a sexy, tousled look. Then there wasn't anything left for him to do except get into position and wait. For what he had in mind, he didn't need to get dressed.

He knelt carefully on the cool marble floor of the front hall, facing the elevator. Spreading his knees slightly, he made sure his back was straight and his shoulders were squared, and then he bowed his head demurely. He hoped he looked just like the perfect submissives he'd seen pictures of in Guy's magazines. He was glad to be able clasp his shaking hands behind his back. There were so many butterflies careening around in his stomach that he was afraid he would get sick, but his cock was iron hard, standing proud and stiff, pointing up to the ceiling and glistening with precum.

Why am I so nervous? he wondered. It's not like things could get any worse between us. I have nothing to lose ... except my virginity. Chapter Thirteen

Five minutes later, Mel's knees began to ache. The marble floor was unbelievably hard. He thought about fetching a towel or something to kneel on. Is that allowed? he wondered.

After ten minutes he groaned and sat back fully on the floor, stretching his cramped legs out in front of him. How on earth do real subs do it? Do they really kneel for hours waiting for their masters to get home? He almost giggled when the term "master" went through his mind. Somehow, although he liked calling Guy "sir" and being ordered about by him, he couldn't think of him as a master—that would mean he was a slave, and he definitely wasn't going there. He was, however, most interested in exploring Guy's kinky world of doms and subs, and playing with some of the things he'd seen in the other man's bedroom.

He eyed the elevator light. It showed that the car was sitting on the parking level. In order to call the elevator to the house level, his thumbprint would need to be programmed into the security panel, and Guy hadn't arranged for that to happen. He was effectively trapped in the house, although he really didn't want to leave. Just thinking about the vampire that was out there searching for him was enough of a deterrent, even without the added incentive of living with the sexiest man alive. Guy didn't seem to reciprocate his feelings, but he still couldn't help wanting to be near him. He wondered again if Consuela could possibly be right in her belief that Guy was "over the moon" for him. It certainly didn't seem like it.

How much longer before he gets home? he wondered. He hesitated to get back into position; there was no telling how much longer it would be. He decided that, if he were paying attention—and of course he would be—he would be able to tell that the elevator was on its way up. That should give him enough time to scramble into position. In any case, the anticipation of presenting himself to Guy naked was keeping his cock iron-hard.

*****

Guy sat in his car in the parking garage under his house contemplating the little pink pill in his hand. It will be ten hours before I need to go to work. Surely it will have worn off by then.

The prescription said to take one pill a day. He had been taking them in the evenings when he got up, and he hadn't noticed that they were making any difference in his level of lust. However, he'd forgotten to take one the evening before and had only remembered that morning while he was getting ready for his appointment. The effects of that pill had been a pleasant surprise. He had been able to have breakfast with Mel and carry on a conversation without feeling like he about to come unglued and attack the young man. This, even though Mel was clearly quite turned on by the sight of him in a suit.

Guy smiled at the remembrance. Mel's pheromones had been strong, and Guy could tell that he was trying to keep from staring at him, but every time he had glanced up, he'd caught Mel drooling. Well—almost. The pill certainly hadn't made Guy immune, either. He'd been horny as hell and hard as a rock, but he hadn't felt about to lose control.

He wanted more of that. He wanted to be able to spend time with Mel. He wanted to get to know the young man. He wanted to be able to watch him move about his house, breathe in his scent, and enjoy his closeness. Hell, being able to touch him without his body being taken over by a lascivious, rampaging beast would be exquisite.

This morning had been special, and Mel had seemed so happy to see him. Of course he was happy, he's bored and lonely as shit, poor kid.

At some point during his financial consultation, he had realized that his high metabolism was likely burning off the affects of the pill much faster than the doctors at EERIE had expected, which was why it had worked this morning a half-hour after he'd taken it but didn't seem to work at all when he took it in the evenings. Already he felt the clawing in his stomach that came with separation from Mel, and he knew that in a few moments, when he went up the elevator and Mel came out to say hello to him, he would once more be fighting for control of his libido. It's not going to kill you to take another. Try it and see what happens. He popped the pill into his mouth and swallowed it with a twinge of guilt. He usually followed the rules.

Leaning his head back against the headrest, he closed his eyes and tried to relax. He would give it twenty minutes or so to kick in, then he'd go upstairs and maybe be able to have a real conversation with Mel.

A half-hour later he awoke with a start, surprised that he'd actually fallen asleep. Of course, he hadn't been sleeping well at night. He'd been plagued with nightmares most of his adult life, and they'd only gotten worse since he had met Mel; he kept dreaming of finding his angel after Valjevo had gotten to him. He was almost afraid to sleep anymore. Luckily his half-hour nap had been dreamless. He climbed out of the car and stretched, yawning. Then smoothed the fabric of his pants, slipped into his jacket, and grabbed his laptop.

He could smell Mel as soon as he got onto the elevator and a smile played at his lips. He felt good. In control. Almost normal.

When the elevator opened onto his hallway, the sight that met his eyes caused his heart to stop beating. His angel was stark naked and kneeling on the marble floor of his foyer in true submissive form. His head was bowed respectfully, his white-blond hair hiding his face with soft curls. His back was straight and his shoulders back, his hands were clasped behind him where they should be, and his knees were the perfect width apart. His sizeable cock was full and stiff, pointing straight up.

Guy stood frozen to the spot. He couldn't do anything but stare in amazement. It was the most incredible sight he'd ever seen. The elevator door started to close and he automatically reached out with one long arm and stopped it. Stepping into his hallway in a daze, he didn't take his eyes off the vision before him. He felt like he was in a dream. He let his laptop bag slide off his shoulder, barely aware of it crashing to the floor.

His conscience was nowhere to be found. His body immediately assumed his dom persona, an aspect that was never far from the surface. Moving slowly he approached Mel, and then circled him, marveling at his beauty. The young man's skin was like porcelain. His arms and shoulders were nicely toned but not too muscled. Guy's breath caught in his throat as he took in Mel's small, shapely butt. A roaring started up in his ears, but it was faint. He managed to squelch the vision of himself fucking Mel's perfect ass before his control slipped away from him.

Taking a deep breath, he continued his tour of his new sub. The boy was shaking slightly, but his scent was not awash with fear; he was trembling with excitement and maybe a touch of nerves. As Guy finished his round, coming to stand in front of Mel, his eyes were drawn to the rosy nipples that stood out so beautifully against the young man's pale skin. Mel's chest was hairless and his arms were covered with goose bumps. The rosy buds stood out stiffly, and Guy's hand reached out on its own accord to roll a nub between his thumb and forefinger. He heard Mel's sharp intake of breath, and it encouraged him to pinch the nipple just enough to cause a slight flare of pain. A beautiful whimper came out of his angel's mouth, and a gush of precum erupted from Mel's hard cock.

Guy caught a whiff of the clear liquid and suppressed a moan. His own cock was so hard, he was afraid he'd split his designer slacks. A tremendous need was building inside of him. He fought for a modicum of control as he unbuttoned his jacket and slowly unfastened and unzipped his pants. He couldn't see Mel's face, but he noted with satisfaction that the young man's cock twitched at the sound of his zipper. He pulled his achingly hard cock out of his briefs into the cool air.

Reaching out, he put his fingers gently under Mel's chin and tilted his face up. Mel's eyes were huge and hungry as he looked up at him, and then his attention went to Guy's cock, and his thick eyelashes fluttered lower over his lust-filled eyes. He drew in a quick breath and licked his full, red lips.

Oh, those gorgeous lips need to be around my cock. Guy kept a tight leash on himself as he took another deep breath and asked, "Are you okay with this?"

Mel's eyes snapped back up to his face, and he nodded quickly. "Yes ... yes, sir!" The boy looked eager to dive onto his shaft, but Guy stopped him by sliding his hand to the back of Mel's head and taking a firm grip on the silky blond hair.

"Don't cum," he commanded. He had plans for his boy's cum and didn't want it wasted on the floor.

Mel's eyes widened. "Y ... yes, sir."

"Good boy." The words came naturally out of Guy's mouth and the happiness they gave Mel was apparent on his expressive face. Guy couldn't hold back any longer. He shifted forward, guiding his cock to those sensual lips, still keeping a tight grip on Mel's hair. I am going to stay in control, he told himself. His resolve vanished as soon as Mel's wet tongue swiped across the head of his cock, lapping at the precum that was drooling from his slit.

"Oh! Oh, God!" The words flew from his mouth as he pushed his cock into the back of Mel's throat. The young man's hands came up and gripped his thighs firmly. We'll have to work on having him keep his hands behind his back—perhaps a bit of rope would help with that, he thought distantly. He was incapable of correcting the situation at that moment, and it was beyond his care. His cock was in ecstasy down Mel's warm throat. The boy's aqua eyes were looking into his with so much trust and desire it melted him. Watching his cock disappear between those luscious lips almost did him in.

He held Mel's head still with a firm grip on his hair and began sliding his cock slowly in and out of his angel's mouth. Mel did not appear to be in any distress, which was good because Guy was pretty sure he couldn't stop. A babble of words came out of his mouth as he began fucking Mel's face in earnest, "Angel ... Angel. So beautiful. So perfect. So good..."

Watching his angel take his cock so avidly, fighting his gag reflex, his eyes starting to water with the effort, was his undoing. He gave two more deep thrusts, with his cock going all the way back into Mel's throat and Mel swallowing around it. His balls drew up and a rush of heat washed over his body. With a strangled cry he erupted.

Mine! You're mine! He was claiming his mate which was as it should be. The world dimmed around him, and he was caught for an eternity in a void of bliss. Time stretched out before and behind him; the future was shadowy and indistinct, but he had Mel at his side. The past behind him was not just his life, but the lives of many who had come before, disappearing into the distance of ancient history. He didn't see a vision exactly, it was a just a flicker of feeling, and then it was gone.

He felt dizzy and shaken; his legs were like jelly. Taking a deep breath, he realized his hands were still wrapped tightly in Mel's hair. He loosened his grip, but didn't let go. Mel was looking up at him, his face shining but with desperation in his eyes. A tear had escaped and run down the side of his face.

"Are you all right?" he asked, moving his thumb around to gently follow the trail of the tear.

Mel nodded but a small whimper came out of his mouth. That's when Guy noticed that he had one hand clenched tightly around the base of his cock. He was trying urgently not to cum.

Guy smiled with satisfaction, stroking Mel's hair away from his face. "Good boy." He deftly tucked his half-hard cock back into his pants and zipped up. Then he reached down and pulled Mel gently to his feet. Mel's wide pale eyes didn't leave his. His lips were parted, panting softly. Guy leaned over and pressed his own lips to Mel's, losing himself in the purity of kissing his angel. Licking around his soft lips, he tasted coffee and semen. He forced his tongue inside, exploring. The gorgeous, needy whimper that Mel made touched something deep inside of him. He's mine. He wants me.

He deepened the kiss and after a few minutes, Mel started squirming and rubbing his cock against his leg, making desperate noises. Guy pulled out of the kiss to observe his angel. He looked absolutely depraved—hot and trembling and out of his mind with lust. "You're getting jism on my suit," he said, smiling.

"Please, sir," Mel begged in a low, breathy voice.

Guy glowed with happiness at hearing that plea. "Please what?" he teased.

"Please, sir, I want ... I need..." Mel panted.

"What do you need, Mel?"

"I need to cum, sir." The look in Mel's eyes was irresistible, and it was all Guy could do to disentangle himself and back away. "Do you think you deserve to cum?" he asked sternly.

Mel's eyes went wide. He opened his mouth, but no sound came out.

"Why did you present yourself to me like you did? What made you think I like that sort of thing?"

"You ... you didn't like it?" Mel asked, his voice going into a squeak at the end.

"I did," Guy admitted. He didn't want to hurt Mel, just tease him a bit. "But what made you think I would?"

Mel stared at him, worry written all over his face. He was well caught now, wasn't he?

Guy quirked an eyebrow at him and waited.

Mel finally looked at the floor and mumbled, "I saw what was in your drawers."

"What did you say?" Guy asked, although he had heard him perfectly.

"I saw what was in your drawers and I borrowed some of your magazines," Mel admitted. He kept his gaze firmly fixed on the floor, rubbing the toe of one foot nervously against the insole of the other.




Encounters with Evil Pt. 04



"So, you were snooping, and then you borrowed some of my things without asking?" Guy kept his voice implacable.

Mel squirmed. "Yes, sir."

"Didn't your parents teach you not to take things without asking?"

"Yes, sir."

"Do you think you deserve to cum?" Guy asked.

Mel let out a pitiful sound. His cock was still fully engorged. It looked almost painful.

"Perhaps I should punish you," Guy said casually.

Mel's head whipped up, his eyes round.

"Do you think perhaps a spanking?" Guy asked softly.

Mel parted his lips and Guy heard his sharp intake of breath. Yes, he definitely wants a spanking.

Guy crossed to the mahogany chair and sat down. He patted his thighs. "Come here, boy. You've done something you knew was wrong, and now you need to accept your punishment." He fought to suppress a grin as he watched Mel struggle with his emotions. It was clear by the look on his face that wanted to be spanked, but he thought he probably shouldn't want that. And he was also a little afraid.

Guy patted his thigh again, looking at Mel expectantly.

"Will it hurt, sir?" Mel asked in a small voice.

Guy smiled sympathetically. "Of course. You need a safe word, though. How about yellow to slow and red to stop?"

"I..." Mel nodded and swallowed. "Okay." He didn't look at Guy as he walked slowly toward him. Guy helped him stretch himself across his legs.

Then he had that perfect butt right there in his lap. He could smell Mel's arousal tinged with a hint of fear. The boy trembled on his lap, but he thought that it was mostly from anticipation. He kneaded one of the nicely-rounded butt cheeks, and Mel let out a low moan that pulled at Guy's gut. The roaring started up in his ears again. He took a deep breath and closed his eyes, trying to get ahold of himself. He needed to do this right. The roaring subsided, and when he felt ready, he said, "I'm going to start easy with you. I'll only give you ten strokes today."

Mel nodded.

"What are your safe words?"

"Yellow to slow, red to stop, sir."

"Good boy. Now grab the chair legs and don't let go."

Mel let out a whimper as he complied, and Guy wasn't sure if it was from fear or need.

"Okay, here we go. Count for me." With that, Guy smacked Mel sharply on one of his cheeks.

Mel jumped and let out a small squeak. His trembling increased.

"Count for me," Guy reminded him.

"One!" Mel cried out, sounding breathless.

Guy slapped him hard again, this time on the other cheek.

Mel let out a moan that was eventually followed by a soft, "Two."

Guy took his time, pausing briefly between each stroke, assessing his boy. He could tell Mel was fighting to keep his hands around the chair legs. His moans turned to whimpers and then small cries, but he could hear the steady drip of precum from Mel's cock onto the floor. When he finished, Mel's butt was beautifully red. After saying "ten" Mel let out a final moan and shifted his butt up, as if he were trying to get more.

Guy caught a glimpse of his puckered entrance. I need that! Fighting his libido, which was demanding that he throw Mel onto the hard marble floor and fuck him right then, he reached underneath Mel and touched his fingertip to the head of Mel's cock. Mel whimpered and thrust, trying to get some friction. A sheen of sweat had broken out across his pale skin. Guy gathered some precum on his finger and began to pet Mel's anus.

His angel's reaction was exquisite. "Please, oh please, sir!" he cried plaintively, squirming and thrashing.

"Still," Guy commanded.

Mel immediately quit moving, but the pleading cries coming out of his mouth continued. Guy forced his large blunt digit inside Mel's tight hole, and the boy grunted in surprise and maybe a bit of pain. Guy didn't give him time to adjust. He explored with his finger looking for that nub of pleasure that was deep inside Mel. He knew the second he found it, as Mel let out a wail of joy and arched into him.

Warmed by Mel's pleasure, Guy began to finger fuck his channel, rubbing his prostate with every stroke. Mel apparently could no longer keep still and began meeting his thrusts, pushing back on his finger and crying out a litany of piteous sounds. Guy did not reprimand him. There'll be time to teach him later. Mel quickened his movements and Guy sped up to match him.

Suddenly Mel cried out, "Oh, sir! Sir, I cant ... I'm gonna..." He let out a broken scream and all his muscles tightened.

Guy heard the splash of cum hitting the floor. We'll definitely have to teach him some control. Should I punish him for that infraction too? He didn't get any further in his thoughts than that when the smell of Mel's cum hit him, hot and fresh. The scent was unlike any other. It was as if it had been created specifically for him, to drive him wild. The roaring started up in his ears again, and this time he could not suppress it. Mate now! the beast deep inside him demanded. He stood abruptly, picking Mel up. As his vision started going red, he summoned the last vestiges of his control and strode to his bedroom. If he was going to take Mel, and it looked like there would be no stopping now, he would at least do it on a bed.

*****

Tigger clung to Guy, burying his nose in the big man's shoulder. He smelled of wool and crisp cotton and very aroused male. He had just had the most amazing orgasm of his life, and he was still shuddering with small aftershocks.

The past twenty minutes had surpassed all of his daydreams. He was putty. He would do whatever Guy wanted, whenever he wanted it. Guy owned him now. There was no going back.

And he was pretty sure he knew what Guy wanted next. He was carrying him to his bedroom with a purpose. In a few moments Tigger would be losing his virginity. He was ready.

Once in the bedroom, Guy tossed him onto the huge bed. He bounced once and then oriented himself so he could watch Guy. The big man was literally tearing off his clothes, heedless of the buttons that flew from his three-hundred dollar shirt. Tigger gaped. Guy's body was incredible. A sheen of sweat caused his ripped chest and shoulders to shine. He was solid muscle with massive shoulders, lean hips, and long, powerful legs. His own cock had never gone more than half soft, and now it started rapidly going the other direction.

Then Tigger looked at Guy's face and a streak of fear shuddered through him. His face was contorted into a grimace that made him look like he was in pain. The muscles in his neck bulged with tension and his breath rasped in and out at a rapid pace. But what caused Tigger's fear was Guy's eyes. They looked feral, as if Guy were a wild animal without any conscious thought processes. Guy looked at him, but Tigger was sure he didn't see him. His gaze was unfocused and deranged.

As Guy stalked toward him, Tigger scooted back on the bed, unconsciously giving in to his need for self-preservation. Then Guy pounced. He grabbed Tigger none too gently by the hips and dragged him forward, at the same time emitting a low growl that sounded like it came from a savage beast.

What the hell is he? Tigger wondered, with alarm. Not human, certainly. Then he realized what Guy was about to do, and his fear ramped immediately to terror. Guy was hurriedly pulling Tigger's legs up and apart, arranging them over his tree-trunk arms. His dripping cock looked huge to Tigger.

Tigger let out a squeal of terror and tried to squirm away. It was no use. One of Guy's massive hands grabbed his arm and held him in place while the other took hold of his monstrous shaft and aimed it at Tigger's anus.

"Yellow! Yellow!" Tigger screamed, squirming his hips in an effort to avoid getting skewered. Guy's only response was to growl again and tighten his grip on Tigger's arm.

"Red!" Tigger cried in panic. It wasn't working. Guy seemed to be in another world, completely unaware that Tigger was actually talking to him. Tigger slapped his cheek lightly and yelled, "Guy! Guy!"

That got some reaction. Guy's eyes shifted, and it looked like he was struggling to focus on Tigger's face. "Guy, please, slow down!" Tigger cried breathlessly. "Don't we need l ... lube? I've n ... never done this before!"

Guy blinked and finally appeared to focus on Tigger. "Never...?" Guy's voice was low and raspy, sounding more animal than human.

"Yes, never," Tigger confirmed, relief flooding him now that Guy was no longer trying to force his giant cock into Tigger's untouched channel. "I'm a virgin."

The reaction from Guy was not what Tigger expected. He let out an earsplitting howl of rage and launched himself off the bed. A fraction of a second later Tigger was watching the bathroom door slam shut.

What the hell?

He climbed out of bed and went to stand on the other side of the door. He could hear the slap of a hand sliding rapidly up and down a slick shaft. The sound was unmistakable—he didn't also need to hear the feral, needy sounds Guy was making, but he did.

His chest tightened. His fear was completely gone now, replaced by hurt. Why is he jacking himself off in the bathroom when I'm standing right here naked?

He heard the sound of liquid splattering on tile. "Guy?" Tigger called through the door with a shaky voice.

"Out!" Guy growled. "Get out!"

"What?" Tigger had heard what Guy said, he just couldn't believe it.

"Get the fuck out of my bedroom! Now!" Guy roared so loud it didn't seem like there was sturdy door between them. His voice still sounded odd, low and growly—inhuman.

Tigger felt his face flush with humiliation. He fled to his own room, slamming and locking the door behind him.

He flung himself onto his bed. His breath came in ragged gasps as he tried to breathe through the crushing pain in his chest. Guy would rather jack off than have sex with a virgin! For the first time in his life he was ashamed of his virginal status. That thought brought on hot anger. Fuck him! What an ass! I offer him a precious gift and he throws it away.

But even Tigger's anger could not mask the horrible, rending sound of his heart breaking.



Encounters with Evil Pt. 05



(c) Copyright jvaughn, 2013, 2014. All rights reserved. Copyright violators will be prosecuted to the fullest extent of the law.

Chapter Fourteen

Guy jacked himself furiously. He had just cum all over the tile floor of his bathroom, but his cock was as hard as ever. The need to plunge it into Mel was overwhelming. He gritted his teeth and tried to force his thoughts away from his compulsion. His cock erupted again, but his need did not diminish. His vision was still red around the edges and the roaring in his ears had not gone away. He felt like he was hanging onto his sanity by a thread. He needed to stop himself before he lost complete control again.

He flung the bathroom door open and the scent of Mel's sex hit him, strong and fresh. He groaned aloud in an effort to keep the beast within him from chasing down Mel and fucking him.

Mate! Mate! Mate! It was difficult to think through the chaos of crazy in his brain. He went quickly to his bureau and took out a set of handcuffs with shaking hands. Snapping one cuff around his wrist, he launched himself toward his bed, landing on his knees next to it. Quickly, before the demon took over again, he snapped the other end through one of the metal hooks in the sturdy wood.

A howl of rage filled the room. His conscious mind fled to the dark recesses of his mind, where it watched like an observer, no longer in control of his body, which was now thrashing against the steel, testing the strength of his manacles. He wasn't sure how long they would hold him; hopefully long enough for whatever possessed him to yield to his higher brain functions.

He didn't think he'd ever be able to rid himself of the monster inside. His father had tried already and it hadn't worked. Not only that, he was sure it wasn't a separate entity; it was part of himself. He himself was a demon. He couldn't get rid of it without destroying himself.

It seemed like an eternity that he thrashed against his bonds making ferocious noises. Finally the roaring in his ears subsided and the redness of his vision faded. He found he was shaking and sweating. The need for Mel was still so strong he felt like he wanted to peel off his own skin. His wrist was bloody from fighting the sharp steel, but the physical pain was blunted by his mental anguish.

As he thought about what had happened, he was filled with repulsion. I almost took him raw, without lube or even prep! How could I do that? The shame he felt was almost too much to bear. He pictured his angel broken and bleeding beneath him after he had finished satisfying his carnal urges and swallowed back the bitter bile that welled up in his throat.

I am dangerous. I need to make sure this never happens again. I need to figure out how to protect Mel from me.

His eyes lit upon his discarded jacket on the floor not too far away. He stretched out carefully, wincing when the handcuff pulled on his bloody wrist. He was able to grab the collar with his toes and drag the jacket toward himself.

Emptying his pockets, he set his cell phone on the end table. The pills came out next and he considered taking a handful to calm himself, but that was a stopgap measure at best, and he didn't like the feeling of being drugged.

He pulled his dart gun out of an inner pocket and set it on the floor beside him, contemplating it. I could shoot myself—end it all. There was a strong appeal in that thought. His torment was almost unbearable. Peace sounded heavenly. I wouldn't be able to hurt Mel anymore.

No one would miss me. Well, Ed probably would but mainly because I wouldn't be able to work for him anymore. Consuela, probably, but she'd get over it soon enough. Mel will certainly be glad to be rid of me after this morning's events.

If I were dead, I wouldn't be in any pain. I wouldn't have to deal with what I've become. I wouldn't have anymore nightmares. 

I wouldn't be able to rape Mel.

He wasn't sure if a single full dose would be enough to kill him. It would certainly kill a normal man, but he wasn't that anymore. Maybe if I dosed myself with a second shot as soon as I came to, it would kill me. 

In the end the main thing that stopped him was the belief that if he weren't there, Valjevo would get to Mel. He couldn't let that happen, no matter what the personal sacrifice. As bad as what he might do to his angel, Valjevo would do far worse. And Mel was such a pure, sweet spirit, he couldn't bear the thought of anything hurting him.

You already hurt him. His heart twisted as if trying to turn itself inside out. He gasped against the pain. What the hell am I going to do?

He found himself on his knees next to his bed. "Holy Mary, Mother of God..."

 





Encounters with Evil Pt. 05



"At what point did you notice your extreme reaction to Mel?"

Guy closed his eyes and took a deep breath, thinking back. "Right away. The first time I saw him I was ready to lay down my life to protect him. And when I caught his scent ... I've never smelled anything so intoxicating in my life. It makes my blood boil with need—even now just thinking about it. When I'm away from him, my skin crawls and the only thing I can think about is getting close to him again." He snapped his eyes open and clenched his fist in frustration. "Fuck, Ed! What the hell am I going to do? You've got to give me something to cure me."

He heard the smile in Ed's voice when he said, "There is no cure, Salucci. You're going to have to figure out how to live with this. My suggestion is that you mate with him, soon and often. That should lessen your need."

"What? I can't possibly!" Guy jumped to his feet and started to pace back and forth in the tiny room. "I don't have any control over myself when I get close to him like that. It's like I get taken over by a sex demon." Guy's voice broke when he said, "I almost took him raw, Ed! No prep, no lube ... Christ, forgive me. I almost raped a virgin!" He sat down abruptly on the edge of the couch and put his head in his hands, pulling on his short curls in anguish. Memories of his own first time swept over him, causing such a visceral reaction he started to gag.

Ed had an uncanny ability to know what he was thinking. His voice was firm when he said, "You are nothing like Derrick, Sal. Don't even compare yourself with that monster. I don't think you're capable of truly hurting Mel—a few bruises, maybe, but no real damage."

Guy was too busy trying to get his breathing back to normal to answer. His body shuddered with remembered pain. Finally he whispered, "You don't know what it's like, Ed. I am blinded by need. Once I get started, I don't think I'll be able to stop."

"You stopped this time." 

"That's because Mel stopped me ... and it wasn't easy. I'm not sure he could do it again."

"Let me show you something, Salt." The large flat screen on the wall activated and Guy found himself looking at a report. A brief perusal revealed that it was an analysis of the chemical components of his sperm. Shit! I so don't want to discuss this with Ed.

"As you can see," Ed began, clearly not the least bit embarrassed to be discussing something so intimate with him, "your sperm is completely harmless. It does not contain any of the chemicals that make vampire sperm so harmful. In fact it seems to be the opposite. Your sperm contains chemicals that should act as an analgesic to your partner."

"That is not going to repair his insides after I've shredded him," Guy said tersely. He felt nauseous.

"Also note that your sperm, particularly your precum, has lubrication qualities that far surpass those of any lube you can buy."

"You're not talking me into this, Ed."

His boss continued as if Guy hadn't said anything. "It also has some other chemicals that are most unusual. We haven't figured out what they do yet, but our analysts have assured me they are completely harmless."

"Great! We don't know what your sperm does. Try raping the kid and we'll see how it goes." Guy's sarcasm was heavy enough to clobber Ed on the head.

"If you heard Mel scream in pain or terror, you would stop. Your need to protect him is far too strong."

"I can't take the chance that I would hurt him."

"I think part of the problem is you've waited too long. The longer you go without claiming your mate, the worse it's going to get. You need to do something soon."

"No. I don't."

Guy heard the exasperation in Ed's voice when he said, "That's your choice, of course. I can't force you to do anything, but please at least think about what I said. The longer you wait, the harder it will be to control yourself."

"It's already too late, Ed. Besides, I'm sure after yesterday morning's debacle he won't want anything to do with me. I'm just going to stay away from him."

"Do you want us to move him to a different safe house?"

"No. I still think mine is the safest. I'll just stay in the carriage house with Consuela until this is over."

He could sense Ed's disapproval. "Sal, I don't think your feelings for Mel are going to go away—ever. Do you really want to live the rest of your life without him?"

"I'm not going to live that much longer anyway." 

"Is that what this is about? Well, with an attitude like that, I'm sure you won't."

Guy heard the quiet click that meant Ed had turned off the speaker. He blew all the air out of his lungs in a long, slow breath. He can't possibly be right, can he?





Encounters with Evil Pt. 05



Fifteen minutes later he was being given a ride back to where he'd parked his motorcycle, the young cop apologizing profusely all the way there.

 





Encounters with Evil Pt. 05



The daylight was disappearing much too rapidly. How long before Valjevo finds him? Guy was under no illusion that getting to Mel wouldn't be the first thing the vampire did upon awakening.

He launched himself onto the deck railing and from there to the roof, easily following the route Mel had taken. He could smell him now; the oil left by his hands and feet on the rough stone left behind a faint odor. Near the top he discovered the place where the stone had crumbled beneath Mel's hand and the evidence of his scrabble to regain his balance. Looking down, Guy shuddered. Why is he taking such foolish chances? Is he really so desperate to get away from me?

He quickly traversed the rest of the cliff face and set off at a punishing pace through the woods, following Mel's clear trail. When he came to the fence that encircled his property, he followed his mate's path west to where he had climbed a tree to get over the fence. If he had touched the fence, Guy's alarm system would have triggered. In fact, the alarm would have triggered if someone had come onto the property even without touching the fence, but it was not setup to detect when people left.

Guy made short work of the scramble up the tree and the ten-foot drop to the ground on the other side of the fence. Mel's trail ended at the road where he had climbed into a vehicle. It was impossible for Guy to track him after that. The demon inside Guy roared his frustration into the air, a sound that made his neighbors' blood run cold and caused them to double check their own security systems.

He was just about to take photos of the tread marks, when his ear bud chimed and Central was on the line. The dispatcher informed him that they had detected Mel's tracker, and he was stationary at an east Bothell address. Thank the Lord! Guy raced back to Consuela's house.

As the agent transferred the address to his phone, he jumped into his car and squealed out of the driveway. It was now fully dark and time was running out for Mel.

 





Encounters with Evil Pt. 05



"Don't worry, pet. I'll let you gnaw on their flesh before they are quite dead. It will still be warm and fresh, and you'll be able to hear their screams while you eat."

Tigger felt a violent shudder rock Jon's body, and he tightened his hug. Bile came up in the back of his throat and he swallowed it down. Tearing his eyes away from the ghastly creature before him, he buried his face in Jon's neck. He felt like his sanity was hanging by a thread. He put his attention to getting air into his lungs.

The next thing he knew, he felt cold fingers on his chin, pulling his face away from Jon. He focused on the wall at the far end of the room rather than on the vampire's soulless eyes, but he was keenly aware of the demon's long, pale fingers stroking the side of his face and moving up to comb through his hair.

"Beautiful," the vampire rasped.

Turning his attention to Jon, Valjevo lifted his chin as well and gazed at his face. Tigger still had his arms around Jon and felt him trembling. The whimper that came out of Jon's mouth was full of dread and misery.

"Yes ... gorgeous. And such lovely sounds. Music to my ears. I bet you scream beautifully. Shall we find out?" Valjevo glanced back at his pitiful thrall and asked, "Would you like to hear him scream, pet?"

The skeletal man nodded silently, his eyes filled with a horrible craving.

Jon shrank back against the stone wall. "No, please don't hurt me," he begged. 

Valjevo let out a low laugh and grabbed his wrist. Jon struggled, trying to pull away, but he might as well have been fighting a mountain for all the difference it made.

The vampire reached up casually with his other hand and grabbed Jon's baby finger. Tigger clearly heard the snap of bone just before Jon's shriek of pain assaulted his ears. His stomach rebelled, and he bent over and retched as Jon's pain-filled cries turned into whimpers and then sobs.

When he had finished vomiting, he straightened and glanced at his friend. A sheen of sweat had broken out across his forehead, and his delicate face was pinched with pain and streaked with tears. Tigger gathered him into his arms again, trying to give both of them some measure of comfort.

The vampire frowned at the small puddle of bile on the floor. "Clean that up!" he ordered, looking back at his thrall.

The empty shell showed no expression as he shuffled forward and dropped to his knees. To Tigger's horror he then bent down and started lapping up the putrid liquid with his tongue. Tigger began to gag, and it was only by looking away and focusing on breathing that he managed to keep from spewing again.

"Oh pet, you've gotten awfully skinny."

Tigger could not help but look up at this comment. Taking advantage of his kneeling position, Valjevo had lifted the thrall's robes up to his waist and was stroking his bare ass lovingly. The thrall continued his efforts but started to tremble. The creature's legs were like toothpicks and there was no padding on his butt at all. Tigger wondered if he were actually still alive. It didn't seem possible.

Suddenly Valjevo's gently stroking hand turned into a fist, and he jammed it into the poor creature's anus up to mid arm. The thrall shrieked in pain, his body convulsing around the invading object, but he didn't try to get away.

Tigger had to hide his face again. The scene before his eyes was too much for him. The thrall's shrieks turned to gibbering, and he could hear Valjevo murmuring to his pet soothingly.

"I'm afraid your end is near, dear," the vampire crooned. "You're all used up." Then his tone changed abruptly to sound almost petulant. "You are too skinny and stretched out to be fun anymore." Tigger heard quiet footsteps and guessed that the vampire was approaching them. He looked up in dread.

Valjevo stood once more in front of them, and his thrall had gone back to licking the floor, his robes still gathered about his waist.

"Besides," Valjevo said, eyeing them with lust, "I have two new playmates who no doubt are still very tight." He turned his attention briefly to the thrall. "If you're done with your snack, go fetch my knife," he commanded. "I want to start decorating." 



Encounters with Evil Pt. 06



(c) Copyright jvaughn, 2013, 2014. All rights reserved. Copyright violators will be prosecuted to the fullest extent of the law.

Chapter Seventeen

Guy was going insane. He had gallons of adrenaline running through his system and nothing to do but sit there staring at taillights.

He could sense Mel. He knew, of course, that his mate was at the church, not too many miles away, but it felt like he would have known where Mel was even without the GPS tracking information. He could feel his life force. He could feel his emotions. Some part very deep inside himself was bonded with Mel and he knew—knew for a fact—that his mate was terrified.

As he fought to maintain control over the thinking part of his brain, he suddenly felt pain. It wasn't in his own body; it was Mel's pain. He couldn't tell where the pain was or what had happened to him, but he knew Mel had been hurt.

A feeling so powerful he could not have fought it if he'd tried exploded within him. Kill! He needed to get to his mate immediately and kill whoever was hurting him.





Encounters with Evil Pt. 06



Mel was pretty sure that Guy was already dead. The rape hardly mattered at this point. He thought he should be furious with Valjevo for desecrating the body, but he wasn't. There was no room in him for any emotion except overwhelming sorrow.

He became aware of Jon in his peripheral vision. He had reached the end of his tether and was holding out his hand toward him, trying to get his attention. Thinking that he was offering him comfort, Mel reached back and clasped hands. Something small and hard was in Jon's hand and now it was pressed into Mel's. Jon kept hold of his hand tightly. Mel glanced back at Jon in surprise and his friend mouthed, "Not yet!"

Slowly it sunk in that what Jon was pressing into his hand was the dart from the gun. He must have picked it up off the floor. Mel wasn't close enough to the vampire to jab it into his neck, but he might be able to get it into his leg. Would that even work?

It occurred to him that if the dart was still functional it was very dangerous to be holding in their bare hands. A tiny prick of the poison would likely kill either him or Jon instantly. For himself, he was at a point where he didn't care—anything to escape the horrible, painful loss that was shredding his heart. He didn't want Jon to die, though.

He glanced back at his friend again and Jon smiled at him bravely.

Valjevo's rhythm quickened and his sounds indicated that he was getting close to orgasm. The whole situation seemed quite unreal to Mel; he wondered if his sanity had slipped away. Jon loosened his grip slightly, and just as Valjevo threw his head back and his body stiffened, Jon let go giving Mel a small push off with his fingers.

Mel didn't think. He moved on instinct. Lunging forward to the end of his tether, he used both hands to jab the dart into Valjevo's bare thigh as hard as he could.

The vampire roared in fury and backhanded him, striking him in mid chest. Mel went flying but his chain tangled with Jon and he came down hard onto the stone floor. He didn't stop to take stock of injuries, but immediately twisted around to face Valjevo. The vampire had jumped to his feet but then stood swaying, his jaw slack. Finally his body crumpled to the floor.

"Oh my God! Oh my God!" Jon cried. "You did it!" He jumped up and down with joy.

Mel could not summon any happiness over his success. Guy was still dead or dying. He climbed carefully to his feet, taking stock of his injuries. He was definitely bruised up and his chest hurt like hell, but nothing seemed broken. Moving on autopilot, he approached Guy. He couldn't get close enough to examine him; the unconscious Valjevo was in his way.

As Mel looked down at Valjevo he suddenly realized and spoke aloud, "He's going to wake up again soon. Those darts only last about five minutes."

"Oh shit! You mean he's not dead?"

"Well, he was already that," Mel said dryly, "but yes, he'll come around soon."

"What do we do now?" Jon's voice was edged with panic. "How was Guy going to kill him?"

How indeed? Mel looked at the Guy's discarded backpack. It looked out of reach, but going to the end of his tether, he stretched out across the floor. He could brush the edge of the backpack with his fingertips. Grunting with effort, he pulled as hard as he could against his chain, which bit sharply into his ankle. He was rewarded with a few more inches. He snagged the edge of the zipper and pulled. The backpack slid forward an inch and he could reach the strap. Hauling the backpack to him, he whipped it open and dumped the contents carefully onto the floor.

Inside were various useful things that you might find in any prepared backpacker's pack: a length of coiled rope, matches, a water bottle, snack bars... The only things out of the ordinary were an unlabeled bottle, very like the one that held the cleanser Guy had used on him when he'd been covered with vampire acid, some vinyl gloves, and several very sharp wooden stakes.

He picked up one of the stakes.

"Holy shit!" Jon said. "You're supposed to stab him with that?"

"Do you see anything else here that might do the job?"

"No," Jon conceded. "We could tie him up with the rope, but I doubt it would hold. We could strangle him with the rope—but do vampires even breath?"

Just then Mel heard a scraping sound. He looked toward it and his heart, which had been hammering frantically in his chest, stopped entirely. The vampire's thrall was shuffling toward them. He was still on the other side of the room and he was moving quite slowly, but in his hand he carried a long, wicked knife.

"Uh ... Mel!" Jon's voice was high-pitched. "I think you'd better get on with killing the vampire."

Mel grabbed several of the stakes and ran to Valjevo's side. The vampire was still out cold. He tossed all but one stake to the side and then stabbed Valjevo's in mid-chest as hard as he could.

The stake slipped harmlessly away, leaving Valjevo's chest unscathed.

"Hurry, hurry," Jon urged. "Do it again."

Mel grabbed the vampire's shirt in both hands and yanked it open. Buttons went flying, exposing the vampire's bare chest. It looked like it was made of granite. He grabbed the stake in both hands and slammed it into Valjevo's sternum. Once again the tip skittered away without doing any damage.

"What the hell?"

"Put your weight into it!" Jon cried.

Mel stood up, held the stake carefully in both hands and fell onto Valjevo, focusing on hitting his target. Once again the tip deflected off the demon's rock hard chest, but this time it left a scratch behind.

"Oh shit! I'm just not strong enough to kill him!" Mel glanced up at the thrall. He was had crossed more than half the room. The knife in his hands was poised to stab and his eyes were focused on them with a look of single-minded desire. He was going to enjoy killing them and likely eating them.

Mel shuddered.

"Come on Mel! Drag him closer and I can help you."

"What?" Mel asked, turning his attention back to Jon. His friend was dancing up and down with excited panic.

"See if you can drag him closer and I'll help you stab him."

Mel tossed the stake aside, grabbed the vampires legs, and tugged. The vampire moved a fraction of an inch. "Holy shit! I think he's made of solid rock," Mel huffed. He put all his weight into it and tugged again. This time Valjevo slid a few more inches.

"Come on! Come on!" Jon yelled.

Mel could only assume the thrall was close. He didn't spare any time to look up at him but focused on inching the vampire closer. Finally Jon was at his side and grabbed one of the vampire's legs. With one on each leg, they were able to get some leverage and drag Valjevo several feet in one long drag.

"Okay! Okay! Fall on him again!" Jon said, handing Mel a stake. 

Mel could see the thrall in his peripheral vision. He was only a few feet away. Focus Mel! he ordered himself. Trying to ignore the imminent danger of being murdered by the inhuman priest, he held the stake in both hands and fell on Valjevo's chest. As he went down, Jon leapt onto his back, letting out what sounded like a war cry.

He held his hands steady as best he could as the tip of the stake met Valjevo's chest and he felt the skin resist and then give. His momentum, combined with Jon's weight on his back, plunged the blade deeply into the creature. The vampire's eyes popped open and he let out a howl that was easily the most frightening thing Mel had ever heard in his life. Purplish blood sloshed up across his hands and began to let off a pale smoke.

The next thing Mel was aware of was that Jon was dragging him backwards, away from the writhing vampire. Valjevo was apparently in his death throes. His howling faded to gurgles as his body convulsed. His hands came up as if to pull the blade out of his chest, but then fell limply to his sides. The smoke that had started as a weak mist was now pouring off of his body.

The thrall had stopped moving and was staring at the vampire as well.

"Holy shit! Holy shit!" Jon cried.

The demon's face and body began to shrink in on itself. First he appeared to age a hundred years in the space of a few seconds, then his body continued to shrink, very quickly losing form. Within twenty seconds there was nothing left of the vampire except a pile of clothing, still giving off smoke.

An anguished howl rent the large room and echoed off the stone walls. Mel's head snapped up in alarm.

The thrall was on his knees next to the non-remains of Valjevo. His eyes were no longer clouded. They were wide with grief and horror. He lifted the knife up in both hands before him.

"No wait!" Jon cried.

"Holy father, forgive me," the priest cried as he plunged the knife into his own chest. Blood gushed forth and he fell forward to the floor.

More death, Mel's shattered mind informed him.

He became aware of tears streaming down his face and wondered how long he'd been crying. He no longer had the strength in his limbs to stand. He crawled to Guy's body. It was completely still and lifeless; he didn't appear to be breathing. He got to the end of his tether just as he reached the body. He couldn't even get far enough to give him one last kiss.

He noted that blood was no longer gushing out of Guy's mortal wound. That probably means he's dead, some part of Mel's numb mind told him. Mel gently picked up the nearly severed arm and positioned it carefully as it should be. The fingers were stiff and cold.

A great sob wracked his body and he threw himself across Guy's torso as far as he could reach, clutching him tightly around his waist. He was surprised that the body was still quite warm. While he lay there, shedding tears onto the small of Guy's back, he became aware of a very slight rising and falling in the big man's chest.

Guy was still alive!



Encounters with Evil Pt. 07



©Copyright jvaughn, 2013, 2014. All rights reserved. Copyright violators will be prosecuted to the fullest extent of the law. 

*

Ed was furious. This is such a fucking clusterfuck! I should have known Salt wouldn't wait for us. I can't believe he walked into a vampire's lair alone, the idiot. He's probably dead by now. If we're very lucky Valjevo won't take too many casualties while he makes his escape with his victim.

The local police had evacuated the church; there had only been a few priests and the janitorial staff there that late in the evening. The SWAT team had the building surrounded, and Ed's elite team, which tonight was just her, Dean, and Andy, had gone in. She normally didn't do field work anymore—it was too dangerous and she was irreplaceable—but they had lost several field agents over the last few months. They were short-staffed, she had the skills, and heaven help her, she'd developed a fondness for Salt over the years. She'd rescue him if she could.

She was wearing a tight-fitting all black cat suit, black gloves, and black boots. Her pale face and blonde hair were covered with a black ski-type mask in a thin, breathable fabric. Although she was practiced at moving silently, she knew that, with the vampire's heightened senses, it would be almost impossible to sneak up on him. Even if he didn't hear or see them, he would detect their scent.

She couldn't smell the vampire at all when she got to the church, which was odd, but she'd lost contact with Salt shortly after he had entered the building. Surely he'd found something; Valjevo had to be there somewhere.

The church was huge. It was going to take the three of them forever to search it, but she couldn't risk calling in the SWAT team to help. They were too likely to see things they shouldn't, and without proper weaponry they wouldn't be effective in any case.

The vampire would most likely be below ground. She had issued a query about whether there was a burial chamber in the church; if so, that's where they'd find Valjevo.

Her earbud dinged and a voice she recognized as belonging to Phil, the commander of the SWAT team, came on the line. He was agitated, almost hysterical.

"Agent Cordova! You won't believe what just happened. You won't believe what I'm looking at right now."

Ed rolled her eyes as she snapped, "Tell me!" He was wasting her precious time.

"We all saw it. One minute the side of the church was all brick, looking just like it always does, and the next minute the brick faded away and now there's a set of stairs leading down to some double-doors. We're investigating now."

Oh, Lord! This is just what we need—some paranormal phenomenon that half the SWAT team witnessed. How hard is that going to be to cover up? Just then the stench of vampire hit Ed's nostrils. It wasn't close, but close enough.

"Do not go in!" she screamed into her mic. "I repeat, do not go in!"

The earbud crackled in her ear and she didn't get a response. Oh hell! Another idiot! She started to sprint outside while she contacted Dean and Andy and asked them to join her. Phil hadn't said where they were, but the SWAT team commander had been stationed on the north side of the building, so she started there.

She found them right away. They were just swinging open the double doors at the base of a long set of broad stone steps.

"Stop!" she cried as she dashed down the stairs, her dart gun in hand. "I go in first. You stay here until I give the word." There was no need to be quiet. The vampire would surely have heard or smelled them already. Dean jogged up to her side, his gun out, eyes on the hallway beyond the door.

Phil glared at her. "I'm not letting you have all the glory. This fucker's mine." He strode through the door and into the cool hallway. He had his Glock out. As if that will do anything other than piss him off! I'm surprised the man has lasted this long if he's this stupid, thought Ed.

Andy showed up just as she and Dean started to follow the SWAT team commander. They stayed right on his heels, ready to bail him out when he ran face-to-face with the vampire and shit his pants. The rest of the SWAT team started to move in behind them, and she barked out, "We'll cover him. You stay here. I don't want a single one of you entering the building."

They hesitated. She had no authority over them so she wasn't sure if they would actually obey her or not. Sometimes she thought that if she were a man, she'd have a better chance. Macho men, which SWAT team members almost invariably were, didn't follow women easily, no matter how commanding they were.

The hallway was short and led to a set of stairs—leading down, of course.

"Let us go first," she told Phil. "My team is trained to deal with this type of thing."

Not acknowledging that she had even spoken to him, he started down the stairs. She stuck right behind him, her senses alert. The stench of vampire was strong along with the smell of decaying flesh; this was definitely a vampire lair. The man had no idea what he was about to encounter. She just hoped she, Dean, and Andy made it out alive. She didn't even want to think about Salt or Mel's chances.

At the bottom of the stairs there was a long hallway, which opened into a lighted room at the far end. There were a few doors along the hallway, all of which were closed. She heard a voice coming from the lighted room. It was young, male, and sounded excited.

"Come on, Tigger, let's go! As soon as we're out, you can call an ambulance. You're not doing him any good right now. Let's go!"

While she was processing this confusing information they had quickly traversed the hallway. When she was able to see what was in the room, she was shocked to her core. A dark-haired, naked youth was kneeling next to a small blond who she was pretty sure was Melvin. She had looked at plenty of pictures of the towhead. Melvin was draped over Salt who was lying unmoving in a very large pool of blood. There was another person lying face down on the floor, also in a pool of blood, and there was a pile of clothes that had obviously been the vampire. It was still smoking slightly.

Salt must have killed the vampire before he succumbed to his injuries. She realized that the dark-haired youth—most likely Mel's best friend, Jon, her infallible memory supplied—was in the process of unlocking the shackle that was around Mel's ankle. She was most impressed with his composure in the face of what had surely been a horrifying experience.

Just then she realized that some of the SWAT team had followed them in, and one had just run back out to call an ambulance. "Dean, go out and let Central know we've got some cleanup to do here. We'll need one of our ambulances."

"Melvin," she barked. He lifted a tearful face to her and her heart sank. "Is he dead?" she asked gently.

"N ... not yet. He's still breathing."

She was surprised at the intensity of her relief. I'm getting soft. She knew if she let her emotions color her decisions, she would start making mistakes. It was best not to get attached to any team member, however, Salt was her longest-running active field agent, and the most effective. If he can keep his head out of his ass and follow simple instructions, she reminded herself. Hopefully he would stay alive long enough for her to chew him out. A quick perusal of his body told her it would be touch and go. He didn't seem to be bleeding much anymore, but the quantity of blood on the ground was appalling. If her team got to him fast enough, they might be able to save him. They were exceptional.

She spared a glance to the other body. She could tell by the extreme thinness that the man had been enthralled to the vampire. She suppressed a shudder. She could not imagine a worse fate. Judging from the tattered robes, he must have been one of the priests.

The SWAT team commander was checking the body for signs of life, but she knew there was no point. If he wasn't dead already, he would be shortly. Being a thrall sucked the life out of a person. They weren't technically dead, but their bodies couldn't metabolize food. They were filled with a gnawing hunger, but no matter how much they ate, it didn't nourish them. Within weeks there would be no hope of saving a thrall even if the spell was undone. This thrall's sanity was probably destroyed in the first few hours. His body had been sustained by Valjevo long after the point where he normally would have starved to death. Now that the spell was broken, he would die, if not by his own hand, then technically of starvation, and within the hour.

"What happened here?" the SWAT team commander demanded of Jon.

"Don't answer that," Ed snapped, fixing Jon with her most commanding glare. His eyes widened and he looked back and forth between the two of them.

The youths were in remarkably good shape for having been under a vampire's care even for just a short time. Melvin appeared disheveled and heartbroken. Jon was cradling his left hand close to his chest, but otherwise he seemed unscathed.

Just then three EMTs arrived with a stretcher. They went directly to Salt and began the process of assessing and stabilizing him, hooking him up to an IV, and loading him onto the stretcher. They worked quickly and efficiently. Unfortunately, they weren't EERIE EMTs. We'll have to conduct a snatch, damn it, Ed thought.

"Where the hell's our guys?" she growled at Dean.

"I'll go find out," he responded, looking grateful to have an excuse to get away from her.

"Get someone to do an interception for Salt—and tell them if they botch it, I'll have their heads!" Her team would waylay the ambulance that was transporting Salt, putting everyone under with a harmless but effective knockout gas. They would then transfer him to their own vehicle and take him to their facilities at Central.

Turning around again, she discovered that the SWAT team commander was once again attempting to interrogate Jon, who was shaking his head and saying, "I'm not really sure. It all happened so fast." Someone had found him a blanket, which he had draped over his shoulders, but he didn't appear to be concerned about hiding his nakedness, because he was still fully on display.

Melvin had been provided with a blanket too, and he had it wrapped tightly around himself although whether that was to hide his nudity or because he was cold, she didn't know. The commander was focusing his attention on Jon, because clearly Mel was too distraught to answer questions.

Mel started to trail after the EMTs as they carried Salt's body away. "Hold!" Ed barked, reaching out to grab his arm and prevent his leaving. "Jon, don't say a word," she called over her shoulder at the other man.

The dark-haired man's eyes widened. "How do you know my name?"

"We've been following this case for a while." She cast a gimlet eye at the SWAT team commander. "Don't think your boys are going to get this one. This crime scene is mine. In fact, tell all your men to clear out. They're not needed here, and they're trampling our evidence."

The man scowled at her. "Well it's clear what happened. That guy," he said, pointing at the erstwhile thrall, "was our serial killer and your boy took him out. Although how such a skinny fucker managed to cause so much damage is a good question. There's no chainsaw or anything around here that could have caused such a massive wound. I don't even see how he managed to walk around at all, he's so emaciated."

Jon opened his mouth and Ed quickly interjected, "Not a word!" Jon snapped his mouth shut again.

"Where the hell are my people?" Ed yelled.

"We're here!" her forensics team lead, Stanley, said, appearing in the doorway carrying a large bag of equipment.

"Well thank God! Secure the area. You know what to do. Where the hell's that ambulance?"

"Uh, I think it got diverted."

"Oh hell! Don't we have more than one?" She knew they had two, but not both staffed at the same time. "Never mind." Turning her attention to Jon and Mel, she said. "You boys can both walk, right? We'll just take my car."

"Who are you?" Jon demanded.

"I need to be with Guy," Melvin said. He looked longingly at the doorway through which the EMTs had disappeared. Ed still had a firm grip on his arm.

"I'm Guy's boss, Ed. Pleased to meet you finally, Melvin and Jon." She didn't bother to smile at them because she was still wearing the black mask. She wouldn't take it off until she could don her usual mask.

"Now let's go. I'll take you to Guy and get you some medical attention as well."

Ignoring the sputtering protest of the SWAT team commander, she took a young man by each hand and escorted them out.





Encounters with Evil Pt. 07



"Yes, of course," he said. He extended his hand toward the door, bidding them to enter.

Mel went into the room slowly and with great trepidation. The lights were dim and Guy was lying on his back on the hospital bed, hooked up to various tubes and machines. His face was very pale, almost seeming to have a greenish tint. He looked smaller than usual, his body just a large lump under the sheet.

His face was still and expressionless. If it hadn't been for the soft, steady beeping of the machine which monitored his heart rate, Mel might have thought he was already dead.

"I'll leave you," Ed said quietly, closing the door. She hadn't even entered the room.

Mel approached the bed as if he were walking to his doom. His heart felt like a lead weight in his chest. Numbly, he pulled a chair up next to the bed and sank into it. He grabbed Guy's hand in both of his. It felt cold and stiff. Guy was completely unresponsive.

Something inside Mel broke. He laid his face against Guy's stomach and started to sob as if his world were ending. Chapter Twenty

"Doctor!" the nurse called. Her voice was excited. "Come and look at this!"

Doctor Conner swept behind the counter to peer over the nurse's shoulder at the computer screen. Ed followed, trying to making heads and tails of the data she could see.

"That's astounding," the doctor said. "I've never seen anything like it." He took the mouse away from the nurse and clicked through a few pages of data. "Huh!"

"What is it?" Ed asked.

"Salucci's vitals are suddenly stronger. Much stronger! They're almost in the normal range. I've never seen it happen instantly like that." He turned to the nurse. "Get Dwayne and join me. I'm going in there to run some more tests."

The doctor hurried into Salt's room and the nurse scurried away. Ed hung back, watching the computer screen with fascination. She could see that most of the squiggly lines had suddenly made a rapid climb and then steadied to a slower but still perceptible climb.

While she was watching, the lines all started going back down rapidly. She was just about to go alert the doctor of the new negative data when she saw Mel standing outside Salt's room, looking bereft.

When she approached him, he glanced up at her. He had obviously been crying.

"They kicked me out," he said in a voice that was so woebegone even Ed was affected. She grabbed Mel's hand and barged into Salt's hospital room with him in tow.

The doctor, a nurse, and the orderly were all crowded around Salt's bed, fussing with the equipment.

"He needs to stay in here," she said.

"We're busy. He'll just be in the way," the doctor replied absently. He was focused on his equipment. "I don't understand this. His vitals are all over the place."

Ed approached the bed, pulling Mel with her. She took the hand she was holding and laid it on Salt's.

"What the hell?" the doctor said, peering closely at the readout.

"He just improved, didn't he?" Ed said in triumph.

"Yes, but ... I don't understand."

"It's Mel," she said simply. "He is what is causing this. As soon as you kicked him out, he began going downhill again, didn't he? Now he's fine again, right?"

"Well, yes, but that's impossible."

"Impossible?" Ed raised an eyebrow. "If I had a nickel for every time you told me that, especially when it comes to Salucci..."

"You're right. He's different. And I've certainly seen all the data that says patients recover more quickly when they have sympathetic company, but this is unbelievable. How could his presence make so much difference?"

"They are ... linked," Ed said.

Mel's head snapped up toward her, his eyes wide. "What do you mean, linked?"

"I suppose Salt hasn't told you anything?" she said. It was more of a statement than a question, and she answered it herself. "Of course not. For being off-the-charts brilliant, the man is dumber than a post. Unfortunately, I don't think it's my place to fill you in. You'll just have to wait until he wakes up. At least he'll be immobile for a while, so maybe you can pin him down and get some answers from him.

"You understand what is going on here on a basic level, right?" she continued. "Your presence is causing Guy to get better. I'd appreciate if you stay by his side at least until he's out of danger."

"I don't understand. Why would I make a difference?"

"Well, we obviously don't understand either." Ed glanced at the doctor who was looking through the data and scratching his head. "But you'll stay?"

"Of course."





Encounters with Evil Pt. 08a



©Copyright jvaughn, 2013, 2014. All rights reserved. Copyright violators will be prosecuted to the fullest extent of the law.

Note to readers: So, sorry for the long delay. This is the third time I'm submitting this.

Lit is no longer accepting .rtf format, so rejected my first submission. I was submitting in .rtf because I've had trouble with .doc losing characters. This story is in .doc format, so I hope it still looks okay.

Don't know what is going on with Lit, but when I resubmitted in .doc format, they published some random story that I've never seen before instead of mine. I didn't actually see the story or the comments, but I could see the comment titles. Not surprisingly, there seemed to be much confusion.

I've changed the name slightly because I don't want to inherit the ratings and comments from the random story that was published in place of mine. Hopefully this one will post very soon. Again, so sorry for the delay. 

Chapter Twenty-One

The TV was on, broadcasting an early-season game between the Seahawks and the Saints, and it was a close one. Guy's attention normally would have been riveted to the game, but today he couldn't muster enough energy to care. He'd turned the sound off; it was annoying. He would have turned the TV off entirely, but he felt like he should care. He should want to watch the game and know the score.

He certainly didn't need the glow of the TV in order to see. He didn't even need the night vision feature of his bionic eye anymore. He could see clear as day regardless of the amount of light.

He sighed. I'm more of a mutant now than ever.

His hearing had been enhanced to the point where he could hear a squirrel running up a tree outside, several hundred yards away. His sense of smell now was almost overwhelming. He could smell things that he'd never thought of as having a scent: the kitchen counter, his glass coffee table ... everything had its own scent.

It was confusing, all of these new sensations. He mainly just tried to block them out. They weren't of any use to him. His plan was to get well enough to be sent on another hunt, and then to fail. He was fairly convinced that, in his current state of mind, he couldn't succeed if he wanted to, but he didn't want to succeed. He just wanted to die. Suicide by vampire—a hell of a way to go.

However, he wasn't sure he'd ever get better to the point where he could hunt again. He might have to come up with a different plan for his demise. He really didn't want to commit suicide outright; the idea was repulsive. But he was in so much anguish, he would do almost anything to escape it.

The doctor had visited him earlier in the day and was confused by his lack of progress. He was a week out of the hospital, and not only was he not getting stronger, he seemed to be getting weaker. Making it to the bathroom was a monumental feat. He had no interest in eating. His arm was a useless appendage; he could barely wiggle a single finger. He wished they'd removed it.

But mostly, he just didn't care.

The doctor didn't understand what the problem was, but Guy knew: he was missing his heart. It had been ripped out of his chest and now there was a gaping hole there. The void left by Mel's absence was a chasm so deep and wide and depressing that he'd never be able to climb out of it. He just wanted to die.

He had failed Mel. He'd failed to protect him. He'd driven him away. He'd lost the only thing that gave his life meaning, and he would never get it back. He understood why Mel had left: he was a freak show. He was a grotesque cross between a vampire and a human, who was incapable of having a normal relationship. He wasn't even able to sit in the same room as Mel and have a conversation—the proximity would make the beast inside him go crazy. He would attack and rape his precious angel, and that would be a horror far worse than his own death.

He gave a bitter laugh. At least I'm too weak to do that anymore.

He shifted on the leather couch, his muscles protesting every movement. A sharp pain slashed through his shoulder. He glanced at his bottle of painkillers on the table. Consuela had left the lid off because he was unable to open it one-handed. Is it too soon to take another one? He decided it didn't matter because he didn't have the energy to make the effort. He closed his eyes and escaped into sleep.





Encounters with Evil Pt. 08a



"Oh, no Mel!" Guy's eye widened and his brow creased into a frown. "I'm not disgusted by you. Far from it. I love that you're a virgin. It means I'll be the only one..." His voice trailed off and he looked away and swallowed. "Sorry," he said his voice raspy. "I'm an ass. I totally get why you left ... why you want to leave."

"I left because I thought you hated me," Mel said. "Why else would I leave?"

Guy's eye softened. "Oh Mel ... there are things you don't know about me ... what I am ... what I've done. Truths that will disgust you. You have every reason to leave. I won't blame you, but don't leave because you think I hate you. That is opposite the truth."

"Have you ever killed anyone?" Mel asked. "I mean, besides demons?" Mel was sure the answer to this was "no," and he couldn't think of any other reason he would reject Guy.

Guy's eye darkened with pain. "Yes," he said softly. "I've killed a man."

Mel stared at him in shock. He almost said, "really?" but it was clear from the tortured expression on Guy's face that he was telling the truth.

"Oh," he said.

"It was a long time ago. I was very young." Guy sighed. "That is no excuse. I should probably be serving twenty years to life right now. I have thought many, many times about turning myself in, but there doesn't seem to be any point in that. I've left that life long behind me, and killing vampires is my atonement. I wouldn't be doing society any good rotting in jail. At least that's what I tell myself."

"Oh," Mel said again. "Do you want to tell me about it?" He wasn't at all sure he wanted to hear the story of Guy committing murder. He knew Guy's baby finger was a lethal weapon, but he couldn't imagine him willfully hurting someone who didn't deserve it.

"My father is a very bad man," was Guy's response.

Mel waited for more information to be forthcoming. Guy stared across the room, his expression pensive.

Mel reached up and smoothed a damp curl off of Guy's forehead. His focus came back to Mel.

"I'm sorry," Guy said. "I'm a monster all the way around, both physically and emotionally."

"I don't believe you're a monster," Mel said.

"Oh, but I am. I'm part vampire."

Mel sucked in a gasp of air. He had known that Guy had superpowers, but he had never dreamed that he might be part demon. He found himself staring at Guy's mouth, wondering if there were fangs there that he'd missed somehow. Then it occurred to him that perhaps Guy kept his other eye covered because it was soulless, like a demon's.

A tremor went through him, but he fought down his terror. This was Guy. He might be misguided, even foolish at times, but he could never be intentionally cruel. "Is that why you killed someone?" he asked. "Was it before you could control yourself?"

"No, it happened before I was infected. I killed that man because it was expected of me—no, it was required of me."

"You killed an innocent man because it was required of you?" Mel was confused. It didn't sound like Guy was talking about being in the military—he wouldn't go to jail for that."

Guy let out a bitter laugh. "He was hardly innocent. He had probably killed almost as many people as Valjevo, but that still didn't give me the right to take his life."

"Oh, well how...?"

Guy cut him off with gentle fingers on his lips.

"No more questions about that. I will tell you other things, almost anything else you want to know, but I can't talk about that. Sometimes it's not safe to have too much information, and this is one of those times."

"Oh." Once again Mel was silent, thinking. Then he burst out with, "Do you have fangs?"

Guy smiled, showing his teeth. "No. Thank God!"

"Then you don't suck blood?"

Mel felt the body underneath him jerk.

"No." Guy made a sound of disgust. "Definitely not."

"But ... is that why you're so fast? How did you know it was Mrs. McGruder at the door before I opened it?" Questions were coming quickly to Mel now.

"Yes. I can move much faster than a normal human, although not as quickly as a vampire. I can hear and smell way beyond human capabilities. I could smell Mrs. McGruder, but I could also see her heat signature through the door. That ability is from my bionic eye, not from my vampire enhancements.

"Bionic eye!" Relief flooded Mel. He wasn't sure he would have been able to stay with Guy, no matter how sweet he was, if he had a blacker-than-black demon eye. But a bionic eye—that was at the top of his list of cool things. "Why do you cover it? Is it hideous?"

Guy laughed. "You can take my eyepatch off if you want to see it. It's weird and ugly, but I don't know if I would call it hideous."

"Really? I can see it?" Mel's curiosity was not just about seeing what Guy looked like. Majoring in bio-engineering, he'd had daydreams about doing research and design for such things.

In answer, Guy pulled his hand, which had been caressing Mel's back, around to his head and pulled off the eyepatch, tossing it onto the coffee table.

Mel drew in a sharp breath as he got a look at Guy's manufactured eye. It was the right size and shape for a human eye—it even had a brown iris and a pupil—but it would never be mistaken for a real eye. It was clearly made of some kind of synthetic material, silicon, perhaps.

"Wow! That is so cool!" He waved his hand back and forth in front of Guy's face and laughed delightedly when the eye tracked his movements.

Guy smiled. "I'm glad you like it," he said dryly.

"I'd love to find out more about it—look at the schematics and study the specs."

"Really?" Guy was looking at him with an expression of disbelief in his real eye. His synthetic eye showed no emotion. Mel found himself looking only at Guy's real eye and ignoring the bionic one, much the same way he had ignored the eyepatch.

"Yes, that kind of stuff fascinates me." Then he changed the subject abruptly. He still had many questions. "So, how did you become half vampire? You were ... infected?"

Guy's open expression suddenly closed off as he pulled his mantle of stoic indifference back over his face. "Yes. Long ago I was raped by a vampire. It infected me."

Mel made a small noise of horror. When he'd recovered enough to speak, he said, "You were raped by a vampire—twice!"

Guy let out a huff of air. "I wasn't conscious for the second one, so I'm not sure it counts. The first time was really bad though." His eyes took on a faraway look, his face etched with pain. "Actually, Derrick took three things from me that weekend: my virginity, my left eye, and my sister. My virginity was the least of these." He swallowed. "I miss Eva."

Mel began to blink very rapidly. He was having a hard time processing what Guy had just said. His sister. His eye. His virginity. He was pretty sure he didn't want to hear the details of this story and he definitely didn't want to put Guy through the pain of telling it.

"Having lost my own virginity like that ... it's the main reason why I'm so afraid to come near you," Guy said. "I was sixteen-years-old when I was raped by Derrick, and it was one of the most painful, terrifying experiences of my life—and I was no stranger to pain or terror at that point." His eyes softened and he stroked the hair away from Mel's face with a loving gesture. "You're so sweet ... so pure. I ... I couldn't hurt you. I didn't want your first time to be like that. I can't stand the thought of breaking you."

Mel was still wrestling with his revulsion at the thought that Guy had lost his virginity, at the tender age of sixteen, to a cold, dead, soulless vampire, but Guy's words eventually sunk in. He almost argued that he wasn't all that sweet and pure. Instead he said, "But ... you didn't have to rape me. We could have gone slow—made it good."

"No. I couldn't have. I have no control over myself when I'm close to you. You're my mate." His eye took on the intense look that it so often did when Guy looked at him.

"What?" Mel asked, trying to get his brain around the concept. "Mate? As in, 'breed with me?'"

Guy let out a low chuckle and the sound enveloped Mel in warmth and comfort, helping to ease the sick feeling that had been brewing in his gut since hearing Guy's story.

"Well, I don't think we'll be having kids together," Guy said. "My vampire enhancements don't include that. But it means that I have paired with you on a physiological level. Whether you feel the same way or not, it is already too late for me. I have bonded with you. I cannot be with another—ever. You're it for me. It's a vampire thing, like with eagles or prairie voles. Vampires mate for life, or rather, until they're destroyed."

Mel's eyes widened. He was pretty sure he loved Guy, but a forever commitment was just so ... forever.

Taking in his expression, Guy smiled a little sadly. "I know, it's a lot to take in at once. Since you're not part vampire, I can't expect you to give up your future and be my other half. I'll take anything I can get, though." He shifted underneath him, and Mel suddenly felt the hard steel of Guy's cock against his hip. He gasped as a wave of lust coursed through him. He'd been so intent on finding out more about Guy, he had been ignoring the undercurrent of desire that thrummed through his veins. His own cock was only half hard, but it was rapidly trying to correct that.

He still had more questions, though. Pushing his lustful thoughts aside, he said, "So, I'm your mate, and you feel an overwhelming need to ... er, breed with me—a need so overpowering that you're afraid you'll rape me and hurt me. So you've been avoiding me altogether instead?"

"Uh ... yeah."

"That's pretty asinine, don't you think?" Mel was shocked when this comment came out of his mouth because he so rarely insulted people, but he was suddenly angry. All that hurt for nothing! Both of us suffering, for no good reason. "What were you thinking?" he went on, his voice rising. "That you'd just be alone forever because you were afraid to have sex with me? I'm not that fragile! Why didn't you just tell me? I'm sure we could have figured it out."

"Uh ... I'm not very good at talking about stuff like this."

"No shit!"

"And I can't be around you. I did try to call you once, remember? By then I guess it was too late. I'd already hurt you too much."

"Oh." Mel thought back to that painful phone call and was filled with shame. "I'm sorry. I really thought you hated me, and it was too difficult to talk to you. I guess my pride got in the way. I'm so sorry."

"It's okay. It's really all my fault."

"But, we're together now and you're not raping me," Mel said.

"True, but I'm drugged to the gills and on my deathbed."

A spike of fear shot through Mel. "Are you dying?" he asked in alarm.

"No, I don't think so. Not anymore. In fact, I'm feeling a whole lot better since you're here." Guy smiled at him tenderly. "Kiss me?" Chapter Twenty-Two

Mel didn't need a second invitation. He'd been dreaming of kissing Guy since even before that first wild kiss in Guy's gym. He shifted up, careful of Guy's arm, and pressed his lips against the other man's smile.

The vampire hunter threaded his fingers through the back of Mel's fine hair and took control of the kiss. He started gently, pressing softly against Mel's eager lips, but as Mel responded with fervor, the kiss quickly became passionate. He tightened his grip on Mel's hair and plunged his tongue into his mouth.

Mel felt dizzy. Guy plundered his mouth as if he were starving and Mel was the first meal he'd eaten in weeks. He could feel the hard planes of Guy's sculpted chest beneath his fingers; he could smell the scent of his skin, heady and masculine. His cock, already hard, became an iron bar pressed against Guy's steel abdomen. He couldn't help but shift his hips against Guy in a reflexive move that brought exquisite friction against his shaft. He whimpered, and Guy answered it with a low groan that was so needy and savage it brought goose bumps out across his skin.

Guy released his hair and ran his hand greedily down his body, skimming over his back until he reached the hem of his T-shirt. When Mel felt Guy's fingers sliding across his bare skin under his shirt, a full-body shudder quaked through him.

Guy pulled out of the kiss, and they both panted for air. Tugging on the hem of Mel's T-shirt, Guy said, "Take this off."

Normally Mel would have hesitated. He was naturally shy, and although his arms and chest had filled out in recent weeks from working out in Guy's gym, he couldn't begin to compare with the perfection of Guy's physique. However, Guy's voice was so deep and commanding, it gave him no room to question the order. He whipped his T-shirt off and tossed it aside.

Guy made an appreciative noise and began to run his hand rapidly across his skin, seeming to want to touch him all over at once. Mel carefully pulled Guy's tank higher on his chest, wanting to feel some skin himself. Guy's lips were once more on his, devouring him. Fingers slid around to his chest and Guy ran the pad of his thumb back and forth across one of his nipples. Sensation zinged through Mel; he felt a surge of precum emit from his slit as pleasure rippled to his toes. Then Guy began to roll his nipple between his thumb and forefinger, none too gently. Mel slammed his hips against Guy's and a pitiful whine came out of his mouth. He couldn't talk. He couldn't think. He felt as if he were about to orgasm just from the exquisite pleasure-pain combination on his responsive nub.

When Guy's fingers left his nipple he moaned softly and panted for air, finally able to breathe again. It didn't last long. Guy's long fingers found the buttons on his jeans and made short work of popping them open. Mel's hard shaft, now freed from its denim constraint, eagerly sought the heat of Guy's abdomen, and he started to hump against Guy, delirious with desire as the head of his cock rubbed deliciously against the damp fabric on the inside of his briefs. Guy's hand slipped under his pants in the back, caressing his bare ass. His fingers quickly found Mel's puckered hole and began to pet it gently, tearing a ragged cry from Mel's throat.

"I take it this means you'll be staying for dinner?" Consuela's voice came from nearby. Mel let out a squeak of surprise and hid his face in Guy's chest, frozen with embarrassment.

"Yes, he's staying," Guy answered. He'd stopped petting Mel's hole, but his hand was still down Mel's pants, casually holding his butt cheek. Mel felt his face burning.

"The stew is in the crockpot. It should be ready in an hour or so, and I've left a salad for you in the fridge."

"Thank you, Consuela." Guy's voice was rough.

"If that's all then, I'm going home now." Mel thought he detected amusement in Consuela's voice and assumed she was grinning at them. He wasn't about to look at her.

"Yes, that's all," Guy responded.

Mel heard her uneven footsteps as she retreated back to the kitchen. Guy's chest shook under him as the big man laughed, low and breathless.

"Oh my God! How embarrassing," Mel mumbled.

"I think she was delighted," Guy said, starting to knead Mel's butt cheek with firm fingers.

Mel tried to relax into Guy, but it wasn't until he heard the swish of the elevator doors closing that he was able to breathe comfortably.

"You okay?" Guy rumbled.

Mel lifted his flaming face from Guy's chest, giggling. "I'm not sure I'll ever be able to look her in the eye again."

His giggles quickly faded when he saw Guy staring intently at his mouth, his face pinched with need. He dove in for another kiss, Guy's heat fueling his own desire.

Guy's tongue thoroughly dominated him, taking control of his mouth and stealing his breath away. He was so swept up in the amazing kiss that he didn't realize Guy's fingers were back at his hole until the tip of one slipped in, just barely. He gasped at the strange sensation and smidgen bit of pain that accompanied Guy's endeavor and was flooded with disappointment when Guy retracted his hand from his pants.

He was about to complain, to beg for that delicious touch again, when Guy asked, "Can you help me with my sweats?" He'd moved his hand around to his own waistband and now pulled the drawstring to untie it. Mel immediately shifted to help him remove his pants and briefs, and Guy's glorious cock sprang out, hard and glistening.

"Oh!" Mel couldn't help the cry of appreciation that came from his lips. Saliva immediately began to pool in his mouth, and he started to move down so he could taste that enticing precum that was dribbling from the head of Guy's gorgeous member, but Guy stopped him with a word.

"No."

He looked up at the big man in surprise to find him looking desperate, a feral glint starting to glow in his eye. Mel fought to calm the sudden uptake in the speed of his heartbeat. I will not be a wuss this time. I will not show any fear. He was terrified that if Guy sensed his trepidation he would stop. And if that happened, he was sure he would die of sexual frustration.

"Take your pants off please, Angel." Guy's voice was calm, still in control.

As Mel scrambled to comply, having to kick his tennis shoes off first, he noticed that Guy was gathering his own precum onto his fingers. As soon as Mel was back in place on top of him, naked except for his socks, Guy's fingers reached for his hole again, and he lunged up to nip at Mel's bottom lip.

With a moan of desire, Mel met his kiss and quickly forgot his nerves has he was swept away by passion. Guy once more owned his mouth, taking possession as surely as if Mel had handed him his only set of keys. His tongue swept in, thrusting greedily to the back of Mel's throat. Mel's cock leaked copiously onto Guy's washboard abs, and he couldn't stop himself from pushing the head of his cock into the small pool of goo. The combination of warm, slick skin and Guy's treasure-trail hairs rubbing against his cockhead drew a guttural moan from deep in his chest.

When Guy's cum-slick finger, which had been tenderly rubbing his sensitive entrance, plunged in and unerringly found his prostate, a cry of ecstasy tore from his mouth. Guy started up a rhythm with his finger, touching his hot spot with every stroke, and Mel disintegrated. His mind flew apart into a million pieces, every one of them flaming. Small keening cries fell from his lips as he squirmed for more, humping back onto Guy's finger with wild abandon. He was desperate. Out of control.

When Guy added a second finger, he barely felt the burn.

"Yes, Guy—oh!" he panted. He felt his balls tightening. A tingle vibrated through him. His muscles tightened, his body becoming a finely tuned instrument that Guy was expertly playing. He teetered on the edge.

Guy added a third finger. A wail that was part pain, part pleasure-madness broke from him, and an orgasm washed over him in great crashing waves. So caught up was he in ecstasy, he was barely aware of his cock spewing great globs of cum all over Guy's stomach and chest.

He was still spinning out of control when he heard Guy begging in a low, growly voice, "Mel, please. I need ... need..."

His eyes snapped open to focus on Guy's face. He never thought he'd hear Guy beg for anything. Guy's eye was so dark, at first it looked like a vampire eye, sending a chill rushing through him. Then he realized that Guy's pupil was just huge, the iris now a thin brown rim. His skin was flushed and covered with a sheen of sweat. He didn't look well—he looked like he was in pain. Shame washed over Mel as he suddenly remembered Guy's dreadful injury.

"Oh my God, your shoulder. I'm so sorry." He tried to pull away, but Guy's hand was instantly on his thigh, just where it joined his buttocks, his steel grip stopping him from moving.

"No!" he barked out a harsh order. "In! Need in!" As he spoke, he slid his hand around and positioned his massive cock at the entrance to Mel's quivering hole. Guy's brow was furrowed, his eye gleamed with dementia, and his mouth hung open, panting.




Encounters with Evil Pt. 08a



Mel's lust-fogged brain registered that this was it: Guy was going to take him.

A savage cry rent the air, raising chill bumps across Mel's skin. Guy's imposing cock, nudging at his entrance, began to fountain, hot cum cascading up in a great torrent. Guy clamped his hand onto Mel's hip tightly, holding him in place, and then he thrust up, brutally burying his huge, hard cock to the hilt in Mel's tight heat.

Mel felt like he was being stabbed in the anus with a white-hot poker. A piercing scream of agony was wrenched from his gut. But as quickly as the pain overpowered him, it subsided to a delicious full feeling. He gasped harshly, recovering from the blinding pain and gathering his senses.

Guy was perfectly still, every muscle standing out in stark relief as he held Mel in place, his cock still hard and buried deep within him. He didn't start up a rhythm—he had already cum. His eyes were tightly closed and his face was scrunched, as if in pain.

That's it then, the thought drifted to Mel. I am no longer a virgin. He felt overwhelmed with emotions he didn't understand. He could feel cum running down the inside of his thigh. We didn't use a condom, some part of his brain informed him with concern, but he dismissed it. They were mates for life now; there would be nothing between them.

Then Guy's eyes snapped open. The pupil in his real eye was still huge, and it was unfocused, burning the same deranged intensity Mel had seen the first time Guy had almost taken him.

Guy began to struggle with the straps on his sling, and then with a fierce growl he yanked it off his shoulder, tossing it away.

"Guy ... what...?" Mel started to protest, worried that Guy was going to hurt himself, but he was cut off by a roar. Guy sounded almost like an angry lion.

Mel's heart slammed into his chest.

Then Guy was moving. He shifted out from under him, pulling him around so that he was below him, but keeping him close. His cock, still hard, stayed buried to hilt in Mel's ass.

"Guy!" Mel cried in protest. "Your arm!" But his words fell on deaf ears. Guy seemed to be in a different world. He moved his injured arm stiffly, but used it to gingerly help support himself.

As soon as he was in position on top of Mel, he drug his massive cock almost out of Mel's hole and then plunged it back in. "Mine!" he growled in a voice that didn't sound human. "Mine."

Then he was pistoning in and out of Mel, growling ferociously. Mel could do nothing except wrap his legs around Guy's toned torso and hang on for the ride.

And what a ride it was! Guy's massive, perfectly muscled body moved with power and grace, taking him, controlling him, possessing him. This is what he'd dreamt of, except reality was so much more than his dreams. The smell of Guy's sweat and sex enveloped him, strong and virile. His powerful body churned above him, thrusting into him with such force the entire couch rocked and groaned. The sounds Guy was making, more animal than human, should have frightened him but they didn't. He knew he was driving Guy out of his mind—his lover was completely out of control, and it was because of him. That thought thrilled him to the core.

Mel shifted his feet more tightly around Guy's torso, welcoming the invasion. The feel of Guy's steel shaft sliding in and out of his body was exquisite—like nothing Mel could have imagined. Guy began to hit his prostrate on every stroke and Mel whimpered with pleasure. The physical sensations were overwhelming, but emotionally he was drowning as well. They were joined. He was one with Guy. The fullness of Guy's cock in his ass matched the fullness of his heart.

But Guy looked like he was a million miles away, possessed by an ancient madness. His wild eye was unseeing, his expression closed and focused.

Mel reached up a hand and put it tenderly on Guy's cheek, wanting to share with him the joy he was feeling.

Guy's eye shifted to his face and focused, and Mel was horrified to see it cloud with pain and regret.

"I'm sorry," Guy said, his voice ragged. "I can't stop."

"No!" Mel cried in desperation. "Don't stop! Feels so good!"

Incredibly, Guy's pace picked up then. Mel was swept away. "Oh God! Oh God!" he cried as his body climbed rapidly toward orgasm.

"I love you, Mel," Guy gasped.

Mel let out a cry of joy. Guy's words had brought him to the edge as nothing else could.

"Touch yourself, angel. Come with me."

Mel grabbed his leaking shaft and tugged. All of the sensations at once were too much: the emotional high from the love he felt, the huge, hard body of his lover moving above him in a frantic rhythm, the desperate noises of pleasure his lover was making, the exquisite sensation of that massive, slick cock thrusting into him, possessing him, pummeling his hot spot, and finally his own manic jerks on his leaking shaft. He screamed out Guy's name as he plunged into orgasm.

He heard Guy's answering cry of, "Angel. My angel!" as he thrust deep, so deep Mel saw stars dancing behind his eyes. His hot cum spattered across his chest and belly. Waves of glorious sensation rolled through him. His thighs tightened around Guy's waist and his senses fled, overloaded. Small whimpers of pleasure began to pour from his mouth as his orgasm finally wound down.

Guy shuddered and his frantic rhythm faltered. He slammed his hips into Mel's with bruising force and roared. Two more deep thrusts and then he let out a long low groan and collapsed, boneless, partially on top of Mel, but mostly to the side.

Mel lay gasping for air, shuddering with aftershocks from his staggering orgasm.

"Oh my God, Guy," he said when he could finally speak, but he didn't have any words to follow. He was completely overwhelmed by the intensity of what they'd just done. It had been better than he possibly could have imagined.

There was no response from the inert body beside him.

"Guy?" he asked in alarm. He twisted slightly to look at him.

Guy was breathing deeply and slowly. His face was more peaceful than Mel had ever seen it. Even when he'd been in a coma, tension had creased his brow. Now he looked sated. Happy. And sound asleep.

Mel sighed and settled in next to him, content just to be near his man.

A half hour later, with cum congealed on his stomach and his sweat dampened skin becoming chilled in the cool air, he started to squirm away, planning to go to the bathroom to get cleaned up, and then maybe put on some clothes.

But Guy's arm tightened around his waist and a single, muffled command tumbled from his lips. "Stay!"

Mel smiled at his still-almost-comatose lover, reached for the afghan that was on the back the back of the couch and arranged it over them, then snuggled back into Guy's warmth.

He would stay if Guy wanted him to.



Encounters with Evil Pt. 09



©Copyright jvaughn, 2013, 2014. All rights reserved. Copyright violators will be prosecuted to the fullest extent of the law. 

*

Guy stared in wonder at Mel's sleeping face. He looked peaceful and angelic. My angel ... so perfect, he thought. The scent of their coupling hung heavy over Mel, and it smelled right. There was no hint of blood, no lingering scent of fear. Did I really have sex with him without hurting him? he wondered.

But he remembered the scream. At the moment of entry, Mel had cried out, a shattering, piercing scream of pain. Guy shuddered at the memory. He had felt Mel's pain too at that moment, but he'd been out of his mind with delirium. He could not have stopped for the end of the world. Yes, he'd hurt Mel, but he also remembered the wonderful ecstasy they had shared. He'd felt Mel's pleasure, and it had been exquisite.

Mel's long eyelashes fluttered and his lovely eyes eased open. He smiled at Guy and reached a hand up to stroke his cheek.

Guy drank deeply of Mel's pale eyes. "Are you alright Angel? Did I hurt you too much?"

"I'm good. You didn't hurt me." Mel shifted. "I'm gooey though, and I've probably leaked all over your couch."

Guy chuckled. "We'll have to clean that up before Consuela finds it."

Mel's face reddened. "We most certainly will!" He sat up then, and Guy felt an odd sensation ghosting over his anus. That's not my sensation, it's his, he realized in wonder. It didn't seem like pain, but...

"Are you sure you're okay?" Guy asked, peering at Mel with concern.

"I feel great!" Mel said, bouncing a few times as if to test that out. Guy felt that odd sensation again.

"I just feel a bit stretched," Mel said, "but it's good." He looked at Guy closely, his brow furrowed. "But how are you? I can't believe you made love to me like that in your condition. Did we exacerbate the wound?"

"No, I don't think so," Guy said in surprise. He sat up and slowly stretched both arms out in front of him. He felt a twinge in his shoulder.

"Oh!" Mel cried. He stretched out his own arms and his eyes got round. "Do that again," he demanded.

Guy obliged, purposefully stretching and shifting his injured shoulder so that he felt the pain, all the while watching Mel with trepidation. It seemed like the telepathy might go both ways.

"That's you! That's what you're feeling. How can I feel what you're feeling?" Mel cried.

Guy caught the undercurrent of Mel's emotions—shock but not distress.

"I don't know. We're bonded now, I guess. We were already to a certain extent, at least on my part, because when you were taken by Valjevo, I felt some of what you felt. The connection seems much stronger now."

"But how does that work? I mean, I guess I get that you're part vampire and have these superpowers, but I'm not part vampire. How come I can feel you?"

"You forget how I got my superpowers," Guy said softly, a dark guilt starting to gather in his core.

"You were raped," Mel said, mulling it over. "You said it was something in the semen..." His eyes widened. "Does that mean I'm part-vampire now too?"

Guy felt Mel's horror and his guilt erupted into full fledged agony. He closed his eyes and swallowed.

"Oh, no, Guy!" Mel cried, shifting around to pull him into a tight hug. Guy felt Mel's distress, but it had changed. Mel wasn't upset about himself, he was upset about Guy. "You can't feel bad. It's not your fault. You didn't know."

"I should have known," Guy growled. "I should have thought of this beforehand." Evil blackness swamped Guy. He had hurt his angel again and in a vast and irreparable way.

Mel let out a whimper and Guy's own anguish ratcheted up as he felt another wave of distress role off of his angel. "Guy, please don't," Mel begged. "Please..." His breath hitched and he hugged Guy closer.

When the paradox of the situation hit Guy, he tried to focus on his own breathing and calm down, for Mel's sake. He realized he was pouring all his own emotions right back into Mel which distressed Mel and further exacerbated his own darkness in an horribly destructive cycle. He tried to clear his head and focus on a tropical beach. Warm sand, cool breeze, the calming crash of the waves upon the shore...

"Better," Mel mumbled, his fingers starting to trace gently up and down Guy's back. Guy felt a wave of desire wash over Mel and a fraction of a second later he caught the scent of his pheromones. He hadn't been thinking about sex at all—amazingly since that had been the only thing on his mind for weeks—but now, suddenly, he was awash with lust.

He grabbed Mel's hair and pulled his head gently but firmly back so he could reach those kiss-swollen lips. Mashing his lips onto Mel's, he reveled in their softness and the wonderful sensation of connectedness he felt. He felt his cock swelling as heat and desire built in his core. He felt Mel's answering lust, and his angel squirmed around so he was on top of Guy, pushing him back against the arm of the couch as he responded to his kiss eagerly.

Guy groaned and they both began to hump into each other. Guy had pulled his sweats back up, but Mel was still completely naked, and their cocks rubbed together through the soft fabric. As Guy felt himself start to spin out of control, he caught a whiff of his own body odor and it pulled him back from the brink. He was rank.

Mel too had caught the scent, he could tell. His reaction was flash of distaste quickly overpowered by the lust he was feeling.

Guy pulled out of the kiss. "Wait. Wait," he said, stilling his own hips, his hands on Mel's butt willing him to do the same. "I need a shower, and we need to talk about this."

He felt Mel's wave of disappointment and almost relented. This is going to take some getting used to.

"Do you realize what's happening?" he asked. "We're feeding off each other."

"Our emotions, you mean?" Mel said, nodding. "Your emotional pain distressed me and then that distressed you further, and so on. That was really intense. But the same thing happened with our lust." His lips curled up in a sexy smile. "When you want me, I want you even more."

"Yeah, I think we're going to have to be careful." The thought that maybe it was too much for Mel, maybe he wouldn't be able to stand being around Guy, entered his head and pain sliced through his heart like a knife.

Mel's eyes widened. "Whatever you're thinking, don't," he said.

Guy tried to clamp down hard on his emotions. He was used to keeping them bottled up inside him, not showing the outside world what he was feeling, but he still felt them. Now he had to be careful not even to feel. He swallowed and focused on calming himself. Then, with extreme care not let himself think too much about the ramifications of what he was saying, he said, "If you don't want to be with me because of this, I'll understand."

He felt Mel's distress at his words and cringed inwardly. God, I don't seem to be able to keep from hurting him.

"That's the last thing I want," Mel said. "I don't want to leave. I won't leave you. You're stuck with me." As the pain in Guy's chest eased, Mel smiled at him gently. "We can work through this, learn how to control our emotions, how to help each other."

"It won't be easy," Guy warned.

"I know," Mel said thoughtfully, and then a cheeky grin spread across his face. "You won't be able to hide behind your steel façade. I can see right through it now."

Guy groaned, but he was smiling. He shifted Mel off of himself and sat up again. "Come on. I need a shower, and I think I might need some help in there."

He hadn't been thinking about sex, only about having someone help him take his bandages off, but he caught the ripple of desire that washed through Mel, and his cock started to swell.

Guy stood up and reached for Mel's hand to help him up. Mel cast his eyes down shyly, but Guy was pretty sure he was checking out the bulge in his sweat pants.

"Yes, sir," he said softly, "I'd love help you."





Encounters with Evil Pt. 09



"Want you, need you, love you Guy," Mel responded.

"Sal. My real name is Salvatore."

Before Mel had time to process that, Guy pushed into him, taking him slowly all the way to the hilt.

Mel's head fell back and a whimper tore from his mouth. He wrapped his feet around Guy's hips and thrust forward.

With a guttural groan Guy started up a slow, torturous rhythm. His large hands held him in place and he nuzzled along Mel's throat. "You're so fucking sexy," he growled into his ear.

Mel was immediately consumed. Guy's cock head found his prostate on every stroke and he spun into ecstasy, a cacophony of pleasure sounds coming from his throat. Soon his legs began to shake and he felt a tingle start in his balls.

"Not yet," Guy said, squeezing the base of his cock firmly.

Mel let out a pitiable sound as his orgasm eased off under the pressure of Guy's firm fingers.

"Slow and easy, Angel," Guy murmured as his hips continued their steady torture, and he held Mel still under his strong hands. If Mel hadn't been able to feel Guy's emotions, he would have thought Guy was in complete control. But he could feel what Guy felt. He knew his lover was just a hair-trigger behind him.

He squeezed his muscles together tightly on Guy's instroke, and Guy let loose with a howl. Mel felt his lover's control snap like a dry twig. Guy began to pound into him at a frantic pace. "Mine," he growled. "You're mine!"

Mel's answering cries were high-pitched and raw. Yes, yours! As he felt Guy's orgasm unleash itself, his cock began to spray like an errant fire hose, squirting hot, white jism all over the dark curls on Guy's chest. He felt Guy's cock pumping torrents of the same into his hungry channel, and the intensity of Guy's orgasm intertwined with his own, sweeping him away to paradise. When awareness returned the first thing he felt was the heat of Guy's seed seeping into him. It seemed as if he could feel his body absorbing the goodness of Guy's sperm.

Guy suddenly stiffened, pulling away from him and standing up straight. He felt alarm wash over Guy.

"What is it?" he asked.

Guy didn't answer immediately. He was busy pulling his cock out of Mel's hole and yanking his sweats up. Then he scooped Mel up into his arms and whisked him, at a world-blurring pace, into the bathroom.

As guy dumped him onto the bathroom floor, he said, "We have company." Then he slammed the door shut. Chapter Twenty-Four

Ed could smell the heavy scent of sex long before the elevator doors swished open. When they did she was hit with a tidal wave of masculine pheromones and semen.

Guy stood in the front hall, facing the elevator, his stance relaxed and alert. He was wearing nothing but a pair of black sweat pants, hanging low on his hips. His body was covered with a light sheen of sweat. He had a kitchen towel draped over his injured shoulder. The towel was liberally covered with fresh spunk that he must have just wiped off his chest.

She detected Mel in the bathroom, his heart rate elevated, but otherwise he was quiet and calm. Sated, her mind supplied.

Guy was calmer too than she'd seen him since—well, maybe ever. In spite of having been interrupted during their coupling, or immediately thereafter, he was serene.

She let Consuela and Jon precede her off the elevator. Jon was trying to play it cool, but she could tell he was impressed by the modern opulence of Guy's residence. His head swiveled this way and that, taking everything in.

She wrinkled her nose as she stepped off the elevator. "My God, Salt! I see you've finally claimed your mate—many times over, it seems."

Consuela's thin lips curled into a satisfied smirk as she disappeared into the kitchen.

"The doctor vastly exaggerated your sorry state," Ed continued. "He said you could barely make it to the bathroom on your own and that you weren't getting any better."

Guy folded his herculean arms over his chest. "I've experienced a miraculous recovery," he said dryly, obviously irritated by the interruption. "You could have let me know you were coming rather than just suddenly dropping in."

"Well, if you ever answered your phone or checked your messages, we wouldn't have surprised you. How did we surprise you, anyway?" Ed knew her own vampire-enhanced senses would have allowed her to hear if not smell a party of three coming long before they arrived.

"I was ... occupied," Guy said gruffly. "And my phone is dead. I didn't bother to plug it in because I really didn't want to be bothered by anyone. So here you all are—bothering me."

"Get over it," Ed said, fixing Guy with a steely-eyed glare. "We came by to check on you because we care about you, believe it or not." She knew her tone held no hint of caring or warmth. Even though her words were true, she didn't want Guy to realize the extent of her affection. He might start taking advantage of it.

"I'm fine. Good. Great, in fact," Guy said. "Now that you've seen me, you can be on your way again."

Jon gaped at Guy. Ed wasn't sure if he was shocked by his rudeness or by the tone of voice he was taking with her. She knew Guy wasn't serious. They teased each other like this quite often, but sometimes Guy needed to be reminded who buttered his bread.

"Doctor Abernathy is on his way. He should be here shortly to confirm your assertion. Meanwhile, we'll chat." She smiled at him thinly, daring him to disagree as she pushed past him into the living room. She took a seat on one of the large leather chairs, crossed her shapely legs, and looked back at Guy expectantly.

He harrumphed as he followed her into the room.

Jon trailed along behind and Ed noted that his attention was focused on Guy. His pupils were dilated and his heart rate was elevated. His gaze slid down Guy's perfectly sculpted back to where his muscular ass filled out his sweats. He licked his lips and then glanced up at Ed guiltily.

"Where's Tigger?" he asked.

Ed's enhanced hearing picked up the sound of the bathroom door cracking open.

"In here, Jon," Mel hissed.

Jon retreated into the hallway and Mel's whispered voice said, "Can you bring me my suitcase, please? It's right over there."

Jon laughed. "Well, look at you, naked-boy. I can guess what you've been up to. Actually your whole house smells like a brothel. I don't think you're keeping any secrets from anyone. How is he?"

There was a slight pause. Ed imagined the tiny blond blushing while he figured out what to say. "Amazing, of course. Now bring me my clothes, please."

Guy had obviously heard the whispered conversation as well. He had a satisfied smirk on his face, but there was also a hint of tension in his stance, and she could tell his attention was attuned to Mel and Jon. His mate is naked and talking to another man, she realized. She looked at Guy closely. His jaw was clenched and his eyes were narrowed. He was clearly trying to keep a tight rein on himself.

Jon was no threat to Mel. She knew that Guy understood that, but how much control he had over his vampire instincts, she wasn't sure.

They heard the suitcase roll across the floor and the bathroom door swing wider.

"So, you're not a virgin anymore?" Jon asked.

Guy took a step in the direction of the front hall, obviously warring with himself.

"Yeah ... not." Ed could hear the smile in Mel's voice.

Luckily the suitcase changed hands quickly. As soon as they heard the door snick shut and Jon's footsteps coming toward them, Guy relaxed and turned his attention back to her.

"I'm going to go put a shirt on. I'll join you shortly."

Guy returned a few minutes later, still in sweats and bare feet, but he had slipped on a clean T-shirt and his eyepatch and run his fingers through the tangled curls on top of his head. Jon stood at the sliding door, taking in the view of the lake and bouncing slightly on the balls of his feet. Just as Guy perched on the edge of the couch, Mel came in, looking flushed and happy. He went immediately to Guy and snuggled in next to him.

The big man relaxed back against the cushions, pulling Mel closer and wrapping his arm possessively around the younger man's shoulder. They exchanged a smile that was gaggingly sweet to Ed's mind. A sharp pang of longing sliced through her. What the fuck? I'm getting soft in my old age. I don't need a damn mate.

She focused her attention back on the couple on the couch, who was ignoring her completely at this point. "I read over your report of the Valjevo Encounter, Guy. It's a bit thin."

Guy met her eye, no emotion showing on his face. In contrast, Mel looked decidedly hurt.

"I wasn't really feeling up to revisiting that whole fiasco," Guy said. "And I'm not used to dictating my report. I prefer to type, but of course, that was not an option."

Ed eyed his injured arm which was still around Mel's shoulders, his fingers lightly caressing the smaller man's arm.

"Looks like you've got function back in your fingers. I'll send you a copy of the report. I expect you to fill in the missing details and have it back to me by tomorrow."

Guy grunted and Ed suppressed a smile. Her number one operative hated to be told what to do almost as much as he hated doing less than a perfect job.

"Father Shubert has been taken into custody for is role in Father Henry's disappearance," she said. "He admitted lying to his superiors about Father Henry's whereabouts. He spun a story about Henry taking leave to care for his ailing mother, when all the while the poor man was being tortured to death in the subbasement of the church. At first I was afraid he'd been ensorcelled by the vampire, and that he himself was wholly innocent. We would have had to do some fancy footwork to get him released. However, it turns out that he acted on his own accord, motivated by the oldest incentives known to man: fear and greed.

"Valjevo apparently caught the two of them having sex in that small room in the basement. He then blackmailed Father Shubert into handing over Henry, threatening to provide proof to the bishop of their affair. He also apparently promised Shubert a substantial sum of money for each new victim he supplied. Shubert was planning on finding one more victim, then fleeing to the Caribbean with his reward.

"Valjevo would not have allowed Shubert to leave, of course. The man would have died a slow, horrible death. Shubert was completely distraught when he found out about the condition of Henry's body. They've got him on suicide watch, but I can't feel sorry for him. He made his own bed."

By now Mel's eyes were round and his face had whitened to an even fairer shade pale. Jon's jaw was set and his eyes were flashing. Such passion. He'll make a good agent if we can get him properly trained.

Just then Consuela came out of the kitchen carrying a tray laden with a coffee set and sticky buns, which she set on the coffee table.

Guy immediately reached for a sticky bun and took a huge bite.

Mel looked at him aghast. "How can you possibly eat again already? I'm still completely stuffed from breakfast."

Guy swallowed his bite and waggled his eyebrows at his young lover. "Exertion always makes me hungry." When Mel's face pinked, he laughed and tightened the arm he had around him lovingly, giving him a brief sideways hug.

"You treat my chico right, Salvatore," Consuela warned, slapping him lightly on the arm. "If I see any bruises on him, I'll give you twice as many."

"Yes, ma'am," Guy replied contritely while Mel's face deepened to a bright red.

Jon's eyebrow's shot up, disappearing behind his bangs. He was obviously surprised that this tiny old woman was threatening Guy with bodily harm, and he was apparently taking her seriously.

Mel turned to face Guy, his expression unreadable. "So, your real name is Salvatore?"

Guy nodded his ascent, looking slightly guilty.

"And Salucci's not your real last name either, is it?"

"No, it's not. I think it's better if you don't know my last name." Mel's face showed the hurt he was feeling, and Guy quickly pressed on. "I would love to tell you. I mean, I'm would be fine with telling you, except I think it is dangerous information for you to have, and I would not endanger your life."

"I agree," Ed said, quickly backing Guy up. "We went to a lot of work to have you disappear. The fewer people who know your real identity, who know you're still alive, the better."

Mel's jaw dropped open and he starred at Guy with huge eyes. "They've changed your identity for you? Kind of like ... witness protection?"

"Something like that," Guy said.

"Exactly like that," Ed confirmed. "The only difference is that EERIE was responsible for hiding him rather than some government agency. And, I'll say we do a much more thorough job than the FBI. No one will ever find you as long as you don't make contact or talk about your past." She narrowed her eyes at Mel and he squirmed uncomfortably. "The less you know about Guy's previous life, the better."

He nodded his ascent, but his eyes reflected his disappointment. Guy leaned over and nuzzled the top of Mel's head. He looked like he was about to say something, but thought the better of it.

She fixed him with a cold stare. "You know better than anyone what will happen if they find you," she said.

Guy stiffened, the movement so slight it would have been imperceptible to anyone else. "Yes, I know," he said quietly.

Ed's phone vibrated and she pulled it out of her jacket pocket to check it. "Abernathy's on his way up."

Ed watched Guy and Mel thoughtfully, while sipping on her strong, black coffee. They were obviously very close, seeming to communicate on a sub vocal level. That pair is inseparable now. I'll have to place them on jobs together. Maybe since Jon and Mel are such good friends, the three of them will make a good team.

Presently the elevator door swished open and Dr. Abernathy appeared, carrying a large black leather bag. He stopped short when he entered the living room and caught sight of Guy happily munching on a sticky bun with one hand, while his injured hand slid up and down Mel's arm.

Ed smiled at him, enjoying his consternation. "Your patient is not as sick as you made out, Dr. Abernathy."

He seemed to recover himself and moved further into the room, still staring at Guy. "How ... what?" He was clearly at a loss for words.

"I'm feeling much better, Doc," Guy said with a smirk.

"It appears so," the doctor said softly, as if talking to himself. "I'd like to examine you, if you don't mind."

Guy raised an eyebrow at him. "Actually, I do mind."

"Guy!" Ed barked. The man did not know the meaning of the word obedience. "If you don't let Dr. Abernathy examine you here and now, I will have you hauled into headquarters and he can do a much more thorough exam there."

Guy rolled his eyes. "Fine. But only my shoulder wound. My other injury is completely healed."

Mel's eyes widened and Ed realized he was putting two and two together. He had witnessed the rape, after all. He lifted his hand that had been acid-burned by the vampire's blood and examined it in surprise. "I'm healed too," he murmured.

Dr. Abernathy grabbed his hand gently and pulled it toward himself to examine it more closely. "Well I'll be a monkey's uncle!" he said in awe. "I could have sworn you'd have scarring from that burn. He ran his thumb across the back of Mel's hand. "There's no trace!"

Guy let out a low growl, and the doctor glanced up at him in surprise. The glare in Guy's eye was intense. Dr. Abernathy dropped Mel's hand and took a quick step backwards.

"Settle down, Guy," Ed said. "Take your shirt off so the doctor can see your wound."

Guy pulled away from Mel and removed his shirt, barely seeming to favor his injured shoulder while doing so.

Dr. Abernathy let out a gasp of surprise, and Ed was hard pressed not to gasp as well. Jon gasped too, but he was looking at Guy's sculpted chest and abs, not at where his massive wound should have been. There was a long, jagged scar that was deep purple in color, running from his collarbone around his rib cage, but there was no redness around the wound or any sign of other trauma. The injury looked months, not weeks, old.

"How the hell did that happen?" Dr. Abernathy cried, moving in close to examine the injury. He prodded it gently with his fingers, and when he got no response from Guy, he applied a bit more pressure.

Mel let out a small yelp, grabbing his own shoulder at the exact spot that the doctor had been poking Guy. His eyes widened and he slapped a hand over his mouth.

He feels Guy's pain, Ed realized in surprise. It must go both ways. There is so much we don't know about the vampire mating bond. We'll have to study these two closely.

Guy had exhibited no outward response to the pain the doctor had surely caused him, but now he said tightly, "It's still a bit tender, Doctor. I'd appreciate it if you didn't reinjure it."

"Oh, sorry," the Doctor said, removing his hands from Guy. "I don't think you need me anymore, and you certainly don't need any more drugs. Perhaps some physical therapy would be in order. How does it feel?"

Guy moved his arm and shoulder, testing them. "It's mostly just stiff—and weak. Can I start working out again?"

"I think I can sign off on that," the doctor said. "I'll send Craig over tomorrow to supervise your first workout and give you some specific exercises to help. I'd say, 'don't overdo it', but with your remarkable capacity for recovery, I'm not sure it's possible for you to overdo."

The doctor finished his exam, quickly covering just the basics: blood pressure, pulse, temperature, eyes, ears, and mouth, and finishing up by listening to Guy's heartbeat.

"Hale as a horse, I'd say," was his proclamation.





Encounters with Evil Pt. 09



Jon looked slightly apprehensive and Mel felt a wave of relief that he didn't have to go to boot camp.

Ed turned her attention to Guy. "We lost Freeman near Bryce National Park last week," she said.

Mel felt Guy's pang of loss, but he showed no outward emotion other than surprise.

"To a vampire?" Guy asked. "What the hell is a vamp doing out in the middle of nowhere?"

"We don't think it's a vampire," Ed said. "There is something out there that is preying on people, though. Several have disappeared without a trace, including Freeman, but one body was found. Or, at least a partial body. It appears to have been shredded by animals—either while he was still alive or immediately thereafter."

Mel's stomach flipped over and Guy squeezed his arm reassuringly.

"So ... wolves?" Guy guessed.

"That's what the authorities think. I'm not so sure. I'd like to send someone in to investigate."

Guy looked at her sharply. "Are you thinking I need to go back to work already?"

A wave of dread washed over Mel. Having Guy off fighting who-knows-what-evil would be sheer torture. Every time he went off on a job, Mel wouldn't know if he would come home or not. What the hell have I gotten myself into?

Guy nuzzled the top of his head.

"Not at all," Ed said.

Mel felt the tension drain from his body when he heard those words. A reprieve, at least.

"I have something else in mind for you. I'd like you to assist with training the new set of recruits. The class won't start for several more weeks. Do you think you'll be up for it?"

Mel could sense Guy's emotions, but he couldn't quite place what he was feeling. Relief mixed with disappointment?

"I should certainly be well enough to intimidate a few recruits."

"Good." Ed's eyes focused on Mel. "I think you'll need to take this semester off," she said. "The training is a ten-week very intensive program and it takes place at various locations all over the globe. I'll give you a light workload next semester so you can catch up."

Guy jumped to his feet and Mel could feel the anger rolling off of him.

"What the hell, Ed! You're not sending Mel out to hunt vampires!" He stalked toward her.

She appeared completely nonplused by Guy's show of aggression. "Relax, Salt. I didn't say I was sending him on any missions. I just think it would be a good idea to have him trained. Don't you think so?"

Guy stopped in mid-stride and gaped at her.

"I mean, if you're out fighting vampires, and his best friend is out fighting vampires, there is a slight chance that he'll have another Encounter. I'd like to make sure he has the best chance of survival that I can give him."

"I'll be there to protect him," Guy growled.

Ed raised an eyebrow at him.

The silence hung heavy for a few long moments until Guy conceded. "Alright, he can go through training—but no missions!"

"No missions," Ed agreed.

Her statement was drowned out by Jon's whoop of excitement. "We're going to boot camp together! Oh, Tigger, it will be so much fun!"

"It's not going to be fun," Guy warned. "It's going to be hell."

Mel's head was still spinning, adjusting to the sudden turnabout his life seemed to be making. He was discovering that Ed had the disconcerting habit of deciding things for you without finding out whether it was what you wanted or not. It would take a little time to sort through the jumble of emotions he felt about boot camp with Jon and Guy, but there was one thing he was already clear about.

He turned to Jon and said, "Don't call me Tigger anymore please. I'm Mel now."

"What?" Jon looked at him in confusion.

"Don't you think I'm a little old to go by Tigger?" he asked.

"But I thought you hated Melvin."

"Melvin is still growing on me, but I do like Mel." He smiled at Guy. He loved the way his name sounded when his lover said it in his deep sexy voice. His cock twitched.

Guy smiled back at him. He saw the lust bloom in Guy's eye in response to his thoughts.

"Ahem!" Ed said, standing up abruptly. "I think it's time for us to go." She raised her voice, "Consuela!"

The woman who Mel had initially mistaken for a witch poked her head out of the kitchen. Looking at her objectively, she still looked like a witch. She had an aura about her that was positively spooky, but knowing her as he did now, he knew that in spite of her frightening demeanor, she had a soft heart. He noticed Jon was eyeing her apprehensively. Yes, she takes some getting used to.

"But I'm not done cleaning up in the kitchen," she protested. She fixed Mel with a glare that he knew wasn't real. "Someone made a terrible mess in there."

"I'm sure they're capable of cleaning up after themselves," Ed said as she headed toward the elevator. "You're on vacation. You've got the next week off."

"What?" Consuela protested as she followed behind. "What am I going to do with a week off?"

"Perhaps you can help Jon move into his new apartment and clean up his old one."

Jon looked decidedly worried by that comment and Mel suppressed a smirk.

By now the three of them were piling into the elevator. Ed held the button to keep the door open for a few seconds longer. "Turn your phone back on Salt and keep it charged. I expect both of you at EERIE headquarters next Monday morning for Evaluation—08:00 sharp."

Guy groaned. Ed grinned at them evilly as she let the button go and the door started to slide shut. "It's going to be a very thorough examination."

A jolt of foreboding slid down Mel's spine. He looked up at Guy for reassurance. "What does an evaluation entail?"

Guy stepped close to him and slid one arm around Mel's waist while smoothing the hair back away from his face with his other hand. "I can show you," he said, his voice low and husky. "Of course, I will need to restrain you first."

A full body shudder of desire swept through Mel and a small sound came out of the back of his throat that was so needy it would have been embarrassing if he'd been able to feel such an emotion. But at that moment there was no room in his mind for anything more than intense love and lust for the man who had taken control of his heart.

"Yes, please ... evaluate me, sir," he whispered. Chapter Twenty-Five

Guy gazed in wonder at the man kneeling before him. A fallen angel. Wingless. Debauched.

His perfect pale skin and white-blond hair seemed to glow in the moonlight that spilled in through the wide windows, washing the room in a bluish light. His kiss-swollen lips were a tantalizing, dark stain against the white of his teeth that chewed gently on the lower one. His lovely, aqua eyes were hidden beneath a black silk cloth that was tied tightly around his head. The weak light seduced shadows from the dark, making the swell and ripple of his toned arms and chest stand out in stark relief.

It was easy to imagine the young man with great white wings unfurled behind him, a glowing halo hovering over his angelic head. But no longer. He was part demon now, irreversibly tainted by wicked seed.

His whole aspect spoke of submission and repentance: the bend of his head, the shameless nakedness of his form, the way his hands were clasped together behind him, resting lightly at the base of his spine. He was begging to be tied up and punished.

Guy drew in a deep breath and let it out slowly through his nose.

The young man at his feet began to tremble, his shoulders shaking with minute tremors.

"Are you cold, angel?" he asked, his voice breaking the silence like shattered glass.

A shake of the head, pale curls shifting against the angel's face with the movement. Full lips parted and then closed again, thinning as he pressed them together in a tight line.

Guy smiled. He's learning. He knows not to volunteer information that was not requested.

The length of black cord Guy held in hands felt smooth and cool. He stepped behind the young man and began his task. As he began to bind them, he marveled at how small the angel's hands looked next to his. He worked slowly and deliberately, wrapping the cord decoratively around hands and wrists and looping it around the toned torso, tying intricate knots here and there. He was careful to leave full access to nipples, cock, and ass, and to allow for his angel's legs to be spread wide. Depraved and corrupted.

As he progressed, the young man's heart rate and breathing quickened. Guy could smell the pheromones rolling off of him. He could also feel his intense desire, quickly building to an insatiable need. He himself was in a similar state. It would take all of his control not to push too quickly and simply take his hostage with a few wild thrusts. Luckily his own swollen cock was securely encased in tight leather.

He finished his task by tucking the spare length neatly under some of the loops that encircled the angel's thighs. He would use that later, but first...

He stepped back and admired his work. His angel was absolutely breathtaking. The black rope was a perfect contrast, setting off his pale skin and framing his rosy nipples and dusky genitals as if they were art. His cock was fully hard and snugged up against his taut belly. The tension in his compact body was palpable. He was strung tight, like a harp string waiting to be plucked.

Guy reached out and very lightly brushed the tip of one of Mel's nipples, thrilling in the visible shudder that ran through the lovely young man at his touch. The buds were hard with arousal and Guy dropped to his knees and took one of them in his mouth. Mel gasped in surprise, and as he bit lightly down on the nub, his angel let out a low moan. When he licked and then sucked, Mel's hips started to thrust. Guy stilled them with a firm hand as he switched to the other nipple.

The angel's moans turned into whimpers. He teased one of the nipples with his fingers, rolling it gently but firmly while he sucked hard on the other one. He could feel Mel succumbing to the torturous pleasure, his emotions a white haze of ecstasy. He felt an arousing sensation in his own nipples, an echo of what he was doing to Mel.

It took every ounce of control he had not to reach for Mel's cock, not to flip him over and shove his hard length brutally into the fallen angel's tight channel. His own pleasure centers went into overload as he felt Mel climbing toward orgasm. Can he orgasm just from nipple play? he wondered. It would be fun to find out.

Just then his angel broke one of the rules.

"Please," he gasped out. "Oh, please."

Guy pulled away immediately. Mel's tone had held so much frustrated need he couldn't help but smile. He was grateful for the other man's blindfold; he was supposed to be frowning at his disobedient sub.

Mel pulled his bottom lip between his teeth and bit down, tipping his head down in shame. He knew he'd made a mistake.

Guy climbed to his feet. "Melvin..." He used Mel's full name to hint at displeasure he wasn't feeling. His body hummed with anticipation. "You understand I need to punish you for that infraction?"

"Yes sir." Mel's response was soft. His cock bobbed as if nodding.

Guy picked up the flogger that he'd laid out earlier. As an untrained submissive, he knew that it was unlikely that Mel would get through an entire scene without making a mistake. Mel had played right into his hands.

He caressed the soft falls of the flogger. It was not designed for severe pain and, truly, one had to wield it with considerable force to even cause a good sting. He let the tresses trail gently across his angel's shoulders, delighting in the shudder of anticipation he felt flow through the younger man. There was excitement in him, and perhaps a touch of fear, but mainly there was growing arousal.

Guy walked slowly around Mel. The young man was tense, waiting for the blow that didn't come. As Guy continued to pace around him, a low whine came out of his angel's throat.

He wants it badly, Guy realized in wonder.

He stopped behind Mel and waited a few more beats, reveling in his lover's impatience. Then, finally, he raised the flogger and let a stinging blow land on Mel's bare ass.

Mel let out a small cry and tried to move his hands down to cover his ass, straining against the ropes, wanting to protect himself from further abuse. But Guy could feel what Mel was feeling and knew his pleasure level was much higher than his pain level.

He reached out and stroked Mel's arm watching his body visibly relax at his touch. He had tied him in such a way that he had full access to that delectable ass and he was going to take advantage of it. His vampire-enhanced eye picked out a spreading pinkness on Mel's butt cheek even in the dim light. Fucking gorgeous.

"Relax," he ordered using his dom voice, but speaking softly.

Mel drew in a deep breath and nodded. He shifted his knees slightly apart, bracing himself.

Guy continued with the flogging, starting up a steady rhythm, striking Mel's perfect buttocks with precision and grace. Mel took it quietly at first, head bowed, body rigid. After a time his breath began to hitch and a low whine came from the back of throat. Guy could feel the intensity of his pleasure ratcheting up even as the pain increased. A sheen of sweat broke out across Mel's shoulders. He paused in his ministrations and moved around in front of him.

His angel's face was contorted—in pain or ecstasy, it would have been impossible for him to tell if he hadn't been able to feel his titillation. His blood-choked cock looked painfully swollen. A trail of precum ran down the front of it and a small puddle had started to form on the floor. When Guy saw this, his own cock spasmed and he bit back a groan.

His mate was the sexiest man alive.

And he was needy. Ever so needy. The angel before him started to tremble.

Guy moved behind him again. The pain on his buttocks had started to subside, giving way to a pleasing warmth. Guy let the lash fall again, with some force this time.

Mel cried out and Guy felt the pleasure-pain streak through him, fierce and sharp. He struck again, hard, reveling in the sounds that Mel made. Once more and he felt Mel tip over, pleasure washing through him that was so intense it drowned out all other sensation.

Guy dropped the flogger and grabbed Mel by his shoulders to support him as he swayed. His angel's cock spewed forth a torrent of cum and he let out a strangled cry. Guy felt the spasms rocking through the younger man's body with both his hands and his head. It was almost enough to push him over the edge as well. Almost.

He needed his cock encased inside his angel in a bad way. But first ... there was more discipline to take care.

Mel seemed to have recovered from his intense orgasm—mostly. He was still breathing hard, his chest rising and falling rapidly.

"Angel," Guy said gently, running a finger lightly down his smooth cheek. "You know you've broken another rule? You are not supposed to cum without permission when we're doing a scene."

Mel sucked in a sharp breath, raising his head as if he were looking at Guy. He opened his mouth and then snapped it closed again quickly, returning his head to its bowed state. He nodded mutely.

"Well, I won't go too hard on you this time, sweetheart. I know it's your first flogging and you were very excited."

Guy dropped to his knees in front of Mel. "But I will do something to help you remember and to keep it from happening again."

Guy grabbed a handful of Mel's hair and tugged so that that angelic face was raised toward him. Then he took that luscious mouth in a deep, fiery kiss. Mel moaned around the invading tongue and answered the kiss eagerly.

Guy could never get enough of his mate. The taste, the feel, the amazing smell. Am I always going to be this besotted? he wondered. "Yes," a little voice in the back of his mind answered him, "you are."

Keeping a tight hold of Mel's hair with one hand so the young man wouldn't forget who was in control, Guy let his other hand stray around to his backside. His butt was deliciously warm to the touch and Guy massaged it gently, urging further moans from his lover.

He could have gone on kissing Mel forever, except for the urgency of his own need. His swollen cock was still trapped in his tight leather pants, and it was time to let it out.

He pulled out of the kiss, smiling as Mel's lips tried to follow him. Then he set to work on his next task. Pulling out the extra length of cord he had tucked away, he wrapped it gently around Mel's balls and the base of his cock and secured it, taking extreme care that it wouldn't be too tight once Mel was fully hard. His young lover was already most of the way there again.

He stood up and stepped back to admire his handiwork. His angel was a picture, indeed. The black rope around his cock and balls caused them to stand out away from his body looking obscene. Naughty.

Guy caught his breath. "So lovely you are, Angel. I can't believe you're mine."

Mel's lips pulled up into a sweet smile.

On a whim Guy grabbed his cell phone off the nightstand and snapped a picture.





Encounters with Evil Pt. 09



Guy let out a loud groan and Mel felt fingers threading through his hair, holding his head still. He swallowed, trying to fit more of Guy's cock down his throat. His eyes began to water with the effort, but still he wanted more.

Guy's hands controlled his head and Mel let out a whimper as he withdrew his cock until just the tip was inside his mouth, then he plunged in again, starting up a slow rhythm. Guy let out another groan, low and sexy. Mel could feel his mate's pleasure. It was a very strange sensation feeling Guy's cock sliding between his lips, and at the same time feeling the echo of it from Guy's perspective, almost like ghostly lips were swallowing his own cock.

Oh God! He felt precum drizzling out of his cock even as he tasted the viscous liquid flowing from Guy's. He felt the ropes tugging on his balls and realized that if he wasn't bound, he'd be close to orgasm again. He could sense Guy's pleasure escalating and knew that the big man wouldn't last much longer either.

He sucked hard on Guy's next outstroke and was rewarded with another deep groan and the reflection of the incredible sensation on his own cock. He felt Guy's legs begin to tremble. Guy pulled his dripping shaft out of his mouth and he heard him gasping for air, felt him trying to control his impending orgasm. It was so close, Mel expected to feel the splash of hot cum on his cheek at any moment, but Guy won his struggle.

Mel's brain was white hot, melting down, burning up with desire. The urge to couple was overwhelming and he wasn't sure if what he was feeling was his own need or Guy's. He only knew that if he didn't have Guy's cock plunging into his ass in the next few seconds, they were both going to burst into flames. He let out a loud whimper at the same time that Guy growled and swept him up into his arms.

Mel felt the heat of Guy's broad chest against his skin and smelled the scent of sex flowing off of him. He wished that he had his hands free so he could wrap them around his lover. He rubbed his cheek against the course hairs on Guy's chest and shifted, trying to get closer. He wanted to crawl inside of Guy.

Guy's dire need escalated his own, driving him to the brink of madness. He marveled at the control Guy exhibited when he set him down carefully. With the desperate desire he felt coursing through Guy's loins, he expected to be thrown down and immediately mounted.

Hell, he wanted that.

His legs felt like jelly when his feet touched the floor, but Guy kept a hand wrapped tightly around his waist, supporting him. He urged him forward and Mel felt the bed against his knees. He would have shimmied onto it, ass in the air, but Guy's urgent hands positioned him with his torso on the bed, head resting against the covers, feet still on the floor, and bare ass on display.

Yes! Yes! He's going to take me now. He's just going to slam his huge cock into me. Mel pushed forward so that his straining cock had contact with the bedcovers. He began to hump against them, needing the friction. A small wail escaped his mouth.

He felt Guy's amusement, briefly flaring through his raging lust. Guy's firm hand pulled his hips back so that his cock was just out of reach of the bed. He let out a whimper of protest, not even caring how needy he sounded. If Guy could feel his emotions as easily as he could feel Guy's, he would know already that he was insane.

He knew Guy was in the same state: blind with desire. That gorgeous cock would be at his entrance any second, ready to pierce him with its thick hardness. A frantic whimper came out of his mouth and he shifted from foot to foot in anticipation, shimmying his ass. He heard Guy's animalistic growl, a sound so masculine and feral it sent a shiver up his spine.

Instead of a hard cock plunging into his hole, to his surprise he felt Guy dropping to his knees. The deft hands shifted from his hips to his ass and parted his cheeks firmly. Guy's hot breath ghosted over the sensitive skin of his pucker. Mel had time to marvel at Guy's control. His need was as overwhelming as his own, and yet he was taking time to...

Then Guy's tongue slid down his crack to his quivering hole and his world exploded into ecstasy. He would not have been aware of the sounds cascading from his mouth, if he had not felt Guy's pleasure at hearing them.

His lover's tongue lapped at his hole, teasing it open before thrusting inside. The taste of musky spice exploded over his tongue, and he felt Guy's delight in the flavor. Sensation swirled through him. His cock was drooling, dripping onto the floor. His legs shook. He pushed back into Guy's face wantonly. The strong hands on his ass controlled him, holding him still.

He was desperate to tear the constricting ropes away from his cock and balls, to grab his hot shaft and bring himself to orgasm in one quick stroke. A howl of need and frustration came out of his throat. Guy's chuckle of amusement was swallowed with a groan as the big man lurched to his feet.

Mel felt Guy's raging need. His big lover wrapped a hand firmly around his waist and instantly he felt something hard, blunt, and wet at his entrance. He had time to take a gasping breath, and then he was breached. A spike a pain shot through him and he pushed out to ease Guy's passage. The echo of the pleasure that Guy felt as the head of his cock entered his tight heat was overwhelming. The nerves at the entrance to his channel, already sensitized by Guy's tongue, flared with burning delight as Guy slid his large organ slowly but steadily into him. When the hot head of Guy's organ nudged his prostate, the resulting spike of pleasure caused him to cry out, loud and shrill.

Guy pulled back and slid in again, ever so slowly. Mel was almost sobbing with need. He heard a keening sound coming out of his mouth. Then Guy was plunging in and out him, going deep, rubbing against his prostate with every quick stroke.

Mel was pulled into a sea of wild sensation. He lost track of where his own pleasure ended and Guy's began. He could feel both the wondrous feeling of Guy filling him, hitting his hot spot, taking him to the edge with his powerful strokes, as well as what Guy was feeling: his cock sliding in and out of tight, hot heaven, the friction quickly escalating to wave after wave of ecstasy, consuming him. Stealing his sanity.

It was only when he heard Guy's voice, guttural and strained next to his ear, that he realized he was screaming.

"Angel, my angel," Guy rasped. "Oh God!" Mel felt another wild shudder of pleasure rip through Guy. "Angel!"

Guy was right there and so was he, ready to tip over and accept the ravishing bliss of orgasm. He suddenly became aware of the ropes around his cock and balls, a little too tight now that his cock was so painfully swollen. He whimpered in frustration, close to breaking down in sobs. Then Guy's hands were on his cock, tugging at the rope. He must have tied it with a quick release in mind, because suddenly the rope fell away and Mel's cock and balls were free.

He let out a wail as his balls emptied themselves, the sperm racing up his shaft and forcefully ejecting from his slit. He felt the mirrored sensation of Guy's cock doing the same even as he felt the hot liquid explode deep inside him. He rode the crest of his and Guy's orgasms, the two of them inexorably intertwined. He couldn't tell which sensation was his and which was his mate's. It felt like he was plunging into a sea of molten lava, his body and his mind completely consumed.

The next thing he was aware of was the rough cover on Guy's bed brushing against his cheek. The large, warm body of his mate covered him completely, pressing him into the mattress. He could feel the gasping breaths coming from his lover, feel his softening cock still firmly lodged in his ass. His body jolted with an aftershock of his intense orgasm and he felt Guy's body respond with one of his own, his cock swelling briefly.

Guy let out a loud groan that seemed to reverberate through Mel's body. He felt like he was made of Jell-O, his limbs liquid and melting and his brain jellified. His arms were still firmly tied behind his back and now they ached for release.

Sensing his discomfort, Guy shifted off him, his spent cock sliding gently out of Mel's ass. Mel whimpered. He was still incapable of movement. Incapable of speech. Guy's deft hands found the end of the rope at his wrists and began the task of releasing him. Luckily the untying went much more quickly than the tying, and very soon Mel was able to pull his arms around his front of himself. He groaned as his muscles protested.

Reaching up, he pulled the blindfold off his head, letting it fall to the side, blinking in the weak light, his eyes taking a minute to focus. Guy was intent on his task of untying him, taking the time to lovingly stroke each piece of skin as it was revealed. His expression was one of awe and wonder, and Mel felt a spike of surprise and pleasure that Guy could take so much delight in him.

Guy met his eye and smiled warmly. "You are the most amazing man I've ever met, inside and out," he murmured. "I don't know why it surprises you that I am overwhelmed by your beauty."

Mel smiled. His brain, lost in a post-coital fog, still wasn't formulating words.

Guy finished with his task and took the time to coil the rope neatly and set it on the foot of the bed. Mel was rubbing sensation back into his wrists when Guy pulled him close and stretched out on the bed, holding Mel tightly in the cocoon of his arms, Mel on his back and Guy on his side.

Mel sighed with contentment and snuggled in. He couldn't believe his steel-eyed, emotionless, mountain of muscle liked to cuddle after sex, but he surely did. Guy stoked the damp hair away from his forehead.

"I love you, Angel. I'm never going to let you go."

A shiver of joy ran through Mel at Guy's words. "I love you too, Salvatore."

He felt Guy's rush of pleasure at hearing his true name fall from Mel's lips, and Mel promised himself to use it more often.

"Thank you," Guy said.

Mel looked at him quizzically.

"I don't think I ever told you thank you ... for saving my life."

"Well, it was mainly Jon," Mel started, not entirely comfortable taking credit for the kill.

"Thanks for saving me from Valjevo too. It's hard to believe you actually destroyed him."

"What?" Mel said in confusion. Guy grinned at him. "Aside from the vampire, how did I save your life?"

"You accepted me as your mate. If you hadn't, I'm not sure how much longer I could have gone on."

Mel shivered, thinking of how bad Guy had looked when he had first seen him lying listlessly on his couch. "You would have committed suicide?" he asked in alarm.

"Probably not, but I still don't think I would have lived much longer. You are part of me now and being without you was like having vital organs removed. I would have died soon of sheer misery. So, thank you for saving me."

"If rescuing you involves lying next to you and kissing you, then anytime you need me handsome, I'll be here."

Guy kissed him then, a deep and consuming kiss. Mel wrapped his arms around his mate's huge chest and returned the passion. Soon enough he felt Guy's cock chubbing against his thigh even as blood pooled in his own.

They pulled out of the kiss to smile into each other's eyes.

"Another round?" Guy asked.

Mel nodded, still dreamy. "Soon," he said. His need was no longer urgent and it felt so good just to lie in his lover's arms. "Where did you learn to tie ropes like that?"

"Shibari? I took a class a couple of summers ago when I was on assignment in Amsterdam. I haven't had much practice. Did you enjoy it?"

Mel squirmed. The entire scene had been amazing. Having those ropes wrapped around his body had put him in a trance-like state that was hard to describe. That followed by the intense sensations of the flogger had made him so high—he couldn't believe he had orgasmed from the flogging. He cast his eyes down, not wanting to admit how much he'd liked it—no loved it. What is wrong with me to enjoy being tied up and whipped? he wondered.

Guy's hand went to his chin, lifting his face up to see his eyes. "You loved it, didn't you?" he asked softly.

Mel nodded, feeling a blush creep across his face. "Entirely too much," he admitted. Suddenly he remembered the photo Guy had taken. "I want to look at the picture you snapped of me."

Guy chuckled. "You were so debauched." He reached for his phone and quickly navigated to the photo, holding it up for Mel to see.

Mel gasped in surprise. The photo looked like it could have come from a magazine—one of those that Guy kept in his toy drawer. The scene looked surreal. He was nicely framed in the middle and there were no distracting background elements—mostly just polished hardwoods. His skin seemed unnaturally pale and the black rope stood out starkly, wrapped and knotted intricately and beautifully around his body. His cock was thick but not hard. He'd obviously just orgasmed; there was a shimmer of cum on his stomach and spatters on the floor beneath him.

What surprised Mel the most, however, was his smile. It wasn't broad and toothy, but it was definitely there in the curve of his mouth and the tilt of his head. In his entire aspect was a sense of euphoria. He practically glowed with it.

"Wow!" he said, glancing at Guy to see his reaction.

Guy was staring intently at the photo with such an adoring look in his eye that Mel felt a burning heat build in his chest.

"My perfect angel," Guy murmured, not taking his eyes off the picture. One of his hands stole down to his cock and he caressed it absently. Mel was surprised to note that Guy was almost fully hard again already.

Guy turned his piercing eye on Mel and asked, "Can I keep it?" Mel could feel Guy's hope and dread.

"For jack-off material?" Mel teased.

Guy's face broke into a huge smile. "I think I could cum just by looking at it."

"Only if you promise not to show it to anyone else."

Mel felt an instant strong reaction flare in his mate.

"Never!" Guy growled. "You're mine! Only mine!" With his words, he rolled over on top of Mel, keeping most of his weight on his knees which were on either side of Mel's legs, but pinning him firmly nonetheless, surrounding him with his big body. "Mine!" he declared again, staring into Mel's eyes.

Mel glowed with happiness. He felt loved, cherished, and protected in his lover's strong arms. He felt owned. "Yours," he agreed.

And before the smirk spread fully across Guy's face he added. "I'm yours and you're mine."

Guy lifted one eyebrow.

"Mine!" Mel repeated, feeling possessive. "All mine." He wrapped his fingers through Guy's dark curls and pulled him down for passionate kiss.