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Fallen Ch. 08

By: Nephylim



The tower room has already changed. It is still red and dim, the candles are still there, and the incense. But it no longer smells of blood. Some of the windows are thrown open and fresh air sweeps through making it smell clean and fresh. There is a hint of lilac from the trees beneath.

The bed is mounded with pillows and cushions in black and red silks and velvet. There are silver trays sitting on the cupboards bearing delicate long stemmed glasses and blood red wine in cut glass decanters.

I like the changes. The whole room seems lighter, fresher. I take off my clothes and stand before the open window, closing my eyes as a warm breeze brushes my skin. I raise my arms and enjoy the gentle caress.

The steps on the stairs are almost silent, padding softly on the thick carpet. I turn from the window as Chancey precedes Ara and Taz who are escorting a resisting Mario.

As soon as he sees me he spits. "What do you want with me? I though you were a nice man. I thought we were..." He falters. "I told you about my hopes, my dreams. I thought... I thought..." Then his eyes snap up, full of fire. "How dare you do this to me? What have you done to me?" A stream of fluent Spanish pours from his lips which strangely excites me.

"Be still. No one here will hurt you. I have not stolen your hopes and dreams, merely redirected them. We have need of a doctor here, and you my friend are now it."

He stops and stares at me. "I'm not a doctor, not yet."

"You are the closest we have. Chancey has done a wonderful job but he has other things on his mind and he never received any training at all, especially in modern medicine. Things were different when he learned what he did."

"What do you mean?"

"Chancey learned what he knows in the 1940's."

Mario stares at Chancey who shrugs and smirks. "That's impossible." Mario says flatly.

"Really? Are you completely sure about that?"

He looks around uneasily. No one is laughing; no one is doubting. "I... Maybe you believe that..."

"Not believe Mario... know."

"And who the hell do you think you are, calling me Mario. That is not my name."

"It is now."

"Never."

"I think you will find that it is. Everyone is given a new name when they come here. It makes them feel more a part of the family, and this is your family now Mario, the only family you will ever know."

"No. Please. I have to... don't keep me here. Let me go."

He struggles again even though he knows it's hopeless. Ara and Taz grip his shoulders firmly and he has no chance. I am mildly surprised that Ara is so strong. He seems too small and fragile. I smile to myself. Sometimes a small frame can be deceptive of what lies within.

I close the distance and rest my hand on the side of Mario's face. "You are part of our family now Mario, whether you want to be or not. We will never let you go but soon you will realise that it is not a bad thing. You will be cared for and have a lot of freedom within the house and grounds. Little will be expected of you other than some light tasks and service to me."

"What kind of service?" He looks highly nervous. He is unaware of the fact that he has been unconscious for 24 hours receiving my blood and that it now flows through his veins. Once I have fed from him the absorption of my blood and the effects of my venom will begin to make the changes felt.

"What do you think I am Mario? Do you think that I am some pervert who steals and abuses pretty young men?" I laugh at the irony. "I suppose you are right. But I am so much more than that and what you might think of as abuse comes with considerable benefits." As I speak I allow my fangs to descend and he shrinks back.

"No." He whispers, his eyes enormous.

"I won't hurt you, Mario. I will never hurt you. In fact I will show you pleasure the like of which you have never known. I will give you food and shelter, comfort and care, good company, good food and the run of a house that is equipped with many wonders. You have the use of the grounds, the pool, the horses; whatever you want, with minor exceptions, on the whole estate. In return all I ask is your blood and your body."

His eyes are like saucers. "No... no you... you can't..."

"I can Mario, and I will. The only question is whether it will be a pleasant or an unpleasant experience for you."

"I... I'll run away."

"There is nowhere to run, Mario. You are not a prisoner in the house and may roam where you will but I don't think you will, not when you get used to the rhythm of life here. You cannot leave the grounds because there is nothing beyond the grounds. This house does not exist in the reality that you knew. There is nothing outside the gates or on the other side of the wall so try as you might, and I will not stop you trying, you cannot leave."

"I... I won't give in easily. I won't let you take me without a fight."

"Are you sure of that? Are you really sure? And what makes you think that it is going to be a bad thing? Look around you Mario. No one else is complaining."

He glances at the others with frightened eyes. They all smile at him kindly while holding him tightly. "Relax now, Mario, I don't think you are going to put up much of a fight, not once you realise exactly what it is I am offering and what it is like when I take." As I speak I walk around him and he tries to follow me with his eyes.

I stand close behind him, my erection pressing against his buttocks and brush the hair away from one side of his neck. Ara and Taz are holding his shoulders firmly and Chancey is standing in front of him. All of them are excited and eager. Mario is terrified.

"Please. Please don't do this to me. Don't..." I silence him by stroking my fingers across his throat and treating him to a quick release of venom into his blood. He cries out in shock and relaxes against me. 

"That's right, relax now Mario. You are not going to fight me, you can't. Relax and enjoy the experience to come." Resting his head on my shoulder I put my arms around him and stroke his tight abs. Ara and Taz draw his arms out from his sides and Chancey knees and spreads his legs. Mario trembles and turns his head towards me, whimpering. 

"Hush. It's alright. You will be alright. Everything will be alright."

"No... no please don't. Please I..." Chancey takes him into his mouth and he chokes on his words. "No...no...no... don't do that to me don't... Aah...ah no...no..."

Ara and Taz are licking his wrists. They have neither venom nor fangs but they know how to stimulate sensitive areas. I stretch my arms along his and touch the inside of his elbows with a light touch that sends shivers through his body and venom through his veins. As Chancey sucks harder he groans and relaxes even more.

In minutes he is shaking and moaning as Chancey, the little minx keeps him perched on the edge as the rest of us explore his body and take their own pleasure of his lips, his arms, his throat, his nipples. I end up massaging his entrance. He is feverish by now, over stimulated and frantic.

"Do you still want me to stop Mario? Do you still want me to let you go?" He murmurs something incoherent. "Do you want it to stop?"

"No." He gasps. "No don't...stop."

"Good boy. And it's only just beginning."

I move away from him and the others gently draw him backwards until he is falling onto the bed. He cries out as he feels himself fall but then they are all on him. They lick and suck and kiss him until he is fighting his own body, throwing himself around in fevered frustration.

"Please... please..." He gasps. My venom has worn off now and everything he feels, he feels clean, and he feels strong. Chancey draws back from his groin and joins Ara who is sucking on one of his nipples while Taz kisses him deeply. When I touch his belly he jumps and squirms but he can't lift his head. His skin is hot and slick with sweat.

I use his own sweat and precum to lubricate him and as I do it he shudders and tenses, his body straining and his mind screaming. When I enter him he screams with pleasure and bucks, slamming his hips into me with unleashed passion. I motion to the others to step back so it is just him and me. He claws at me like a wild cat, raising himself from the bed to pull me harder and deeper. He is no virgin either.

In times past I would have ended his passion, holding my body inviolate but, since Aqua the passion and the pain excites me and so I allow him to rake me with his nails and grab my buttocks in his hands, desperation for more. I have always held back in my lovemaking. Most humans are fragile and easily hurt but this one... this one is an unexpected animal and I am loving it.

I give him what he wants, harder and faster, harder and faster until he is roaring and thrusting with me. I regularly release small doses of my venom to keep his own body apace with mine and when I feel my climax close I thrust my face into his damp curls and lick the salt from his skin. 

The sinking of my fangs into his vein and the miniscule amounts of venom involuntarily released send him into a screaming orgasm closely followed by my own as the taste of hot spicy sex flows into my mouth.

At the end I leave him conscious and raise my eyes to find that the others have not been idle but are keeping each other warm so to speak. Ara and Chancey are kissing while Taz is stimulating both of them with his hands while his tongue flicks randomly across first one and then the other. They are being careful not to go too far. It would not do to climax when their sex is required elsewhere.

Mario is exhausted, shivering and gasping; he'll be okay after a rest. Better give it to him. Not too long though, don't want him to start thinking. Softly I come up behind Taz who jumps, so absorbed in what he is doing that he had lost track of what I am doing. When he realises it's me he relaxes back against me with a sigh, abandoning his previous pursuit. Chancey and Ara barely notice, they are lost in each other.

Taz turns his head to kiss me and I comply while stroking his chest and tweaking his nipples. I love Taz' nipples, they are incredibly sensitive and I can send him into a state of ecstasy just by stimulating them. Today is no exception and he gasps, his kiss losing focus a little. Playfully I tweak harder and he bucks slamming his shoulders back against me.

Taz likes to be kissed and so I turn him around and continue my kiss, probing harder. He has the most beautiful hair; it reaches almost to his waist and is a glossy sheet of raven black, contrasting sharply with his fair skin. He is stunning. He is very good at what he does too. He is one of the very few aristocrats I have taken who is passionate and who has taken to this life with enthusiasm. I think that Ara is the only other. Taz was taken in unusual circumstances too but I don't have time to think of that right now.

I slide my hand into his hair and run it through my fingers. Taz shivers. He likes this too. He is one of the tallest of my boys, almost as tall as I am and he was older when I took him, in his early twenties. He still looks young and sweet but there is something primal about him that makes him exciting to me. He reminds me of someone I once knew, someone I loved. I'm not in love with him but Hel I love to fuck him.

Softly I call to Chancey and Ara and, even in the throes of passion they hear and obey. Taz looks around in surprise; first that I have called them and second that I have broken the kiss. He is even more surprised when I turn his face and breathe into him causing him to collapse backwards onto the bed.

Giggling and with no prompting from me Chancey and Ara pounce him and I watch with a fond smile as one kisses and the other sucks him. They are already working as a team and are really cute together. I make a mental note to take just the two of them together as soon as I can.

Taz moans, still dazed and woozy. His legs are dangling over the edge of the bed and Chancey is kneeling on the floor. Ara is on the bed bent forward to kiss him, and Mario is stirring and starting to take an interest in what is going on.

I gently nudge Ara out of the way so that I can guide Mario in to kiss Taz, something which is not as tame and gentle as you might think, Taz is an animal especially now that Ara has moved on to his nipples causing an extreme and violent reaction. If Taz likes kissing and having his hair touched, he likes having his nipples excited a hundred times more and it literally drives him wild.

Mario is startled and uncertain, especially when he stops kissing Taz and is rewarded with a snarl and a hand like steel dragging him back down. Taz raises his head and ravishes Mario's mouth. I reassure him with a hand on the small of his back, gently massaging but am surprised that I don't really need to as Mario is responding to Taz's violence with some serious passion of his own.

It is a rare boy who can take my seed and still be resistant to my whim and way of life. So rare in fact that they don't exist... didn't exist. Astaria on the other hand still resists even now, after many lifetimes... but only when it suits her. This is why I stick to boys – that and the fact that I have promised her never to take another woman.

No, Mario is mine now, any resistance he may have had swept away on a tide of explosive sex and the venom from my feeding. This means that sex is now as natural and necessary to him as water. 

Watching Taz with real fondness I run my hands over Mario's tight buttocks which he wiggles beautifully. He is larger than most of my boys who are typically slender and fey. He is both taller and more muscular. I am appreciating the difference. I slip my fingers between his buttocks and tease his entrance. He moans and thrusts back into them and so I oblige.

While I slide my finger in and out of Mario I bend my head to nuzzle Taz's neck and his thrashing becomes less frantic. Still, he arches his back, panting hard, his beautiful eyes wide but flickering. My loins burn. Hel I desire him.

I gently tip Mario onto his back and guide Ara to his cock making sure that he is kneeling with his legs positioned to spread his buttocks apart. Raising Chancey to his feet he needs vey little prompting to kneel behind Ara eagerly going to work on his hole with his tongue. Ara gives a deep moan and spreads himself wider while never missing a stroke on Mario. I have entirely underestimated this boy.

Giving brief and soft instructions to Chancey which make him bloom I sweep Taz into my arms and carry him to the other side of the room where I lay him on a low day bed. He looks up at me with dazzled eyes and a feral smile on his face. Hel he's sexy, that look in his eyes smoulders like hot coals. I run my hands over his nipples which are hard and rouged from the attention they have already received. He gasps and closes his eyes, shivering.

Before I go to town on them in earnest I get onto the bed, straddling him and relax him with a kiss. To excite him too much straight is downright dangerous. Even now, drugged as he is, when I inflict intense stimulation to his most sensitive places with my lips, tongue and teeth he writhes and thrashes almost to the extent of flinging me off the bed. If it had not been for the effect of my breath he would have.

I am by no means gentle myself and, grunting like an animal he throws himself about, gripping me hard around the waist with his legs which are incredibly strong. He has been with me for over 40 years and had not lost a single spark from the wildfire. Normally he is sweet and gentle, a good friend to all the others. He is strong and tireless and always first to offer help. But in bed...

I am possessed of a lust born not of love but a burning desire that would consume someone like Bridge for instance, but not Taz. He looks pale and slender but Hel is he strong and wild. His hair is tangled and untamed behind his head and he is biting into his lip in a way that makes me want to bite him. But I'm waiting for that. Of all my boys Taz's blood is unique. It burns me in a way that could easily become addictive if I allowed it and so I generally abstain. Not today, but first...

It is not easy to sit up with Taz's legs wrapped around my waist and he is too far gone to take the hint. I have to drive my thumbs into his hip joints and force him to release me but only because his legs suddenly become too weak to sustain the grip. He is so wild he actually snarls at me for that and I laugh at his glory.

I have the feeling that if I took Taz too often we would kill each other. I have often felt that he is something more than human but if that is so he is completely ignorant of it and I cannot think what it might be.

Repositioning myself I enter him hard and fast with no preparation. He throws back his head and screams but not with pain. With Taz I can satisfy my base lust. There is no gentleness in him: not here; not now, and there is no holding back. There is just hard, fast, animalistic fucking.

Apart from Aqua he is the only one I have permitted to bite me, because by the time we get to this stage I know he has no conscious thoughts in his head but is consumed by the animal in him and could no more restrain himself than I would want him to. All he wants to do is to fuck and fuck hard. 

This is why he had to give up taking the other boys; he had a tendency to break them. Apart from me there is only one who can handle him; Serif the seventh member of our happy little band... and he is a different matter altogether.

Taz grabs my waist with hands like vices and pulls me down hard. He bites my shoulder and drives me crazy. I bite him more than once before my fangs descend and I sink them into his neck. Unlike others who are cowed by my feeding it merely pushes him to another level of frenzy. I don't bring Taz to climax while I drink, it is simply not safe. The one occasion on which I did it almost literally blew my head off. It's almost as if he has his own venom to release.

As I feed he thrusts up against me, wrapping his legs around me again, pulling me in harder, deeper. Reaching between us Taz grabs my nipple HARD. I yelp and pull out of his neck. Instantly he drags my head into a kiss and bites my lip so hard it bleeds, sucking on it eagerly. Shivering I put both hands on his chest and push away. Blood is dripping from my lip onto his chest and his eyes flash with a passion that borders on madness.

Taking me by surprise he heaves up off the bed and would have thrown me off if it had not been for his legs which hold me in a vice like grip. At the same time those legs convulsively tighten, pulling me in, to thrust into him more deeply than I have ever penetrated any man. The cumulative sensations throw me into a screaming orgasm as intense as any I have ever experienced

Lost in sensation I lose control completely which I never, ever allow myself to do. This is why I don't fuck Taz very often, he brings out the best and the worst in me and he makes me forget to be careful. Most humans are fragile and I have to be very careful not to use my full strength with them. Taz is anything but fragile and I relax my guard with him and allow myself to be fully myself. However, there are still parts of me that should have been kept under strict control and weren't.

I never, ever allow my body to succumb to its natural desire to flood my semen with venom. It is something that I have to consciously avoid and carefully control, as an overdose of my venom is very, very bad news for humans... deadly in fact. This time all restraint is gone and once he makes that fateful thrust there is nothing I can do. I am so lost in the explosion that I can't hold back even if wanted to. It is something that has never happened before; never, and the instant it is done I come plunging down off my high cursing myself and him for it ever having happened at all.

Fallen Ch. 09



Moments after I lose control and release into him Taz goes completely limp, his legs falling away from me, so that for an instant, before the full realisation hits, I am confused. When I realise what I've done I withdraw from him and grip his thighs helplessly, willing him to somehow be immune to what I've done to him.

And then, he makes a strange choking noise and his head slams back, with such force that I'm surprised he didn't break his neck. His body is thrown into violent convulsions, that I'm afraid are going to snap his bones and tear muscle and sinew, if not something worse.

I am utterly horrified by what happened, and utterly helpless. I have no idea what this is going to do to him and there is nothing I can do for him. I cannot take away what has been given. All I could do would be to give him more, but that would be foolish in the extreme. And so, all that can be done is to watch him ride it out and pray that he is strong enough not to die. 

I scramble off the bed and kneel at his side, as his body continues to convulse. I'm afraid to take him into my arms; because it is likely it would hurt both of us. He is breathing in choking bursts and I'm afraid that the straining of his throat is cutting off his windpipe, but what can I do? What can I do? How long will this last? What will it do to him?

"What have I done? What have I done?"

I don't even realise that I've cried out loud until I feel the bodies pressed against me. I glance down into Chancey's frightened eyes, but I can't keep contact for more than a moment, because that would mean taking my eyes away from Taz and I can't do that. I owe him that much.

"My Lord...what's happening to him?"

I ignore him, submerging myself in the wild energy of Taz's fight. I take his hand and hold on even though, a dozen times, it is almost torn from my grip. Finally, the convulsions ease, although he is still spasming and twisting his head rapidly from side to side, his eyes staring and unseeing. 

"Taz... Ah Hel, Taz... Taz... please hear me. Come back to me. I didn't mean to hurt you. I swear I never meant to let it get this far. I can't... I can't help but lose control with you. I should never have thought that I could control it. I should never have let my senses become so divorced from my body. I pray to Hel that I have not harmed you. Do not leave me Taz. I beg of you do not leave me."

I am hardly aware of the others but I know they are gathered around and they are staring at Taz with fear and at me with shock and awe. It is rare that I cry and never over one of them, but I cannot stop the tears that are flowing down my cheeks.

He has stilled now, his eyes still open and wide, but his hand limp in mine. His lips are parted and his breathing is jerky and harsh. It seems to be hard for him to catch his breath and I am so helpless. There is nothing I can do to help him.

I am surprised, shocked and, I have to admit angry, when Mario knees beside me and gently nudges me out of the way. When I glare at him, he looks me in the eye and says softly.

"I'm almost a doctor, My Lord. Perhaps I can help. What's wrong with him?"

"I... I don't..." I have never been lost for words, never been hesitant with a pet, never. What the hell is happening to me? "When I release my seed into a human body I have to carefully control the venom that is released with it. I can't just release it all. It is too much. He is... overdosed on it. I don't know what will happen. I have never lost control like this before."

I feel almost foolish, speaking like this to Mario, as if he is the one in control. Part of me resents it, even while the other is begging him to do something, anything. To save Taz.

"Do you know what your venom comprises of, My Lord, what chemicals it contains?"

"No. It differs depending what my intentions are. It can intoxicate, invigorate or sedate; kill or cure. It can bring feelings of joy, or pleasure, paralysis or sleep. The more I release, the deeper the sleep; but this is different. This is not controlled, this does not have direction. I don't know the effect. I was not thinking, not intending."

Mario looks thoughtful, no longer speaking to me at all. "The initial effect was extreme. It's clearly a neurotoxin, but I've never heard of a reaction like that. It wasn't a seizure, but there were elements in it that were similar, so it seems there was an overwhelming release of energy, with catastrophic effect on the brain - which is unsurprising. There may have been internal damage, but I doubt it and I think it's releasing him, if only in relation to the paralysing effect. He's breathing more easily and the tremors have stopped."

Perhaps he is not a fully fledged doctor, but he is certainly talking like one.

"Will he live?"

"I don't know, My Lord. Just because the toxin is releasing its hold in some areas doesn't mean it's releasing him altogether. It may just be moving on to another stage of its development."

Mario takes Taz's hand from mine and presses his fingers against the inside of his wrist. He frowns. "His pulse is strong, but very erratic. That means his heart is affected. It's beating strongly but wildly and that could cause a cardiac arrest at any time." He leans forward to peer into Taz's eyes. "The fact that his eyes are so fixed and the pupils non reactive isn't a good sign, either."

"Mario. I don't care about signs or symptoms. All I care about is having Taz back with us. Is he going to die?"

He lowers his head, masking his eyes. "I don't know, My Lord. How can I tell you that when I know nothing of the venom that has gone into his body? I don't know the dose; I don't know the composition. I don't know anything. If I had any idea of what was in it, if I had a lab to test it..."

"From what you can see; what is your best guess?"

He looks up at me, his eyes bright and open. "The same as yours, My Lord"

"You think he is going to die?"

"Yes, My Lord."

I feel as if he has thrust a stake through my heart. I turn back to Taz and lift his hand, resting it against me cheek. It's cold and trembles slightly. A deep shudder runs through his body and his eyes flicker and then roll closed. I am startled and look to Mario, although I am perfectly capable of deciphering for myself that he still lives. Can I not hear his heart? Can I not smell the blood still flowing in his veins?

"He's still alive, My Lord." Mario says unnecessarily. "But I think he's gone into a coma. I don't know..."

Whatever it is that Mario doesn't know, is lost to me because, at that moment, Taz shudders again and grips my hand so hard it hurts.

"Taz. Taz can you hear me? Can you hear me? Are you alright?" Stupid questions, I know but now I understand why they are asked at times like these. There simply isn't anything else to say, anything else to do and there is a burning need in me to do something.

Taz takes a deep shuddering breath and his body starts to shake. I glance at Mario, who is looking puzzled and very grave. But I know, I can feel the strength flowing through him; feel life returning

"Taz." I call out again and, with another great shuddering breath, which rocks his body he opens his eyes and stares at me.

"Oh fuck, Taz. I thought I'd lost you."

I pull him roughly into my arms and hold him close. He throws his arms around me and hugs me closer still.

At last, I release him and he lies back, looking exhausted but alert. "Fuck" he says in a voice that is only shaking a little. "That was a wild ride." He grins. "When can we do it again?"

"Never." I say quickly. "I thought I had lost you and I will NEVER do that to you again."

For a moment, he looks as if he is going to tease me but he realises from the look on my face that I am serious. "It wasn't that bad, My Lord. I feel a little..." He pauses and his eyes take on a thoughtful look, "battered, but I've felt worse after sex." 

"Do you really not know?"

"Know what, My Lord?"

"You've been unconscious for more than twenty minutes. For more than half that time, your body was convulsing as if it was trying to tear itself apart bit by bit. Your heart almost stopped and I thought... I thought..."

His eyes widen for a moment and then he smiles, "It was one hell of a fuck... one hell of an orgasm - yours; mine?" He shrugs. "Who cares? I'd do it again."

For a moment I stare at him, truly incredulous. I open my mouth to speak, but before I can get a word out, Chancey puts his hands on his hips and lets loose.

"How dare you. How dare you lie there and grin and say you'd do it again. Do you have any idea how frightened we were? We thought you were going to die. My Lord thought he'd killed you. He cried, Taz... My Lord cried for you and you smile?"

"Hush, Chancey," I say kindly, strangely touched by his words, but embarrassed too. I may be going soft but I don't want everyone to know it. 

When I turn back to Taz, he is staring at me, truly shocked. He raises a shaking hand to touch my face. "You cried? For me?"

Under the circumstances, I ignore the fact that he does not use the proper form of address. I intend to scold, but my voice comes out soft. "Yes, I cried for you, because I thought I had lost you, that I had killed you. I lost control and I should never have done that. I very nearly killed you and had to watch you go through what you did because of me..."

"But I didn't, not on the inside. I have no memory of pain or fear, only of... of..." His eyes glaze and he shivers. "The greatest high I've ever had. The most intense sexual experience. Nothing will ever compare to it."

"You will never experience that again, Taz, I promise you. No matter how much you may want it, I will not risk your life like that again."

He looks up coquettishly, from beneath lowered lashes. "I didn't know you cared, My Lord."

"I care about having someone I can fuck the brains out of when I feel like letting go... except I will never let go quite as much as that again."

"Spoilsport," he teases and I feel as if a huge weight is removed from my shoulders.

I am strangely reluctant to leave him, even though my taste for sex has waned. He's not one to be fussed over and, within minutes he is chafing at the fact everyone is looking at him. He's exhausted but, apart from that he seems sound. Mario insists on examining him, although, at first, he growls and threatens to bite off his hand. Fortunately, a mere glance from me has him called to heel and he allows Mario to take his pulse, listen to his heart and peer into his eyes to, pronounce what we already knew... that he was generally fine.

"Can I go now, My Lord? If I'm not going to get satisfied here, I thought I would find Serif and see if he's feeling horny."

"It'd be better if you didn't do anything strenuous for a couple of days, Taz. You may feel okay but we still don't know if the effects of the venom have completely released you. You might..." Mario tries while Taz stares at him, his eyes like gimlets, until he loses interest.

"Oh well... I'll get Serif to do most of the work." He gets up off the bed and would have fallen back if I hadn't caught him.

"Taz..."

"I know," he says more soberly, as he tries again to support his weight, with a little more success, although he has to grip my arm with a vicelike grip, to keep himself there. "You don't have to say another word, My Lord. I'll wait until tomorrow." He's slurring his words and looks intoxicated. I glance up at Mario sharply and he shrugs.

"It's a normal effect of your venom, My Lord. It's likely that the normal effects will assert themselves, at some time and probably more strongly than normal."

"Oh for fuck sake, either shut up, or stop talking like a text book." The very fact that Taz is speaking so harshly, is testament to the fact that he is not feeling himself. In fact he looks high as a kite and after he has spoken he giggles.

"Don't worry My Lord I'm fi..." Before he finishes he passes out cold. Mario informs me that he is probably going to be fine, but he needs to rest, so I tuck him into bed, right there and instruct Mario not to leave his side until he wakes, and he is sure he's going to be alright.

Chancey is pale and Ara looks totally shocked. "Take Ara to your quarters, Chancey. He looks cold and shocked. Take care of him in any way you think appropriate, and have the staff deal with dinner. We only want something light.

"Yes, My Lord." Chancey says gratefully. I know him well and the best way to reassure him is to give him something to do.

Apart from the seven who make up my 'stable' there are numerous staff, who wander around the house like ghosts... some of them are. I don't see them and that is by design. One of the things I like about Chancey is his ability to make things appear as if they have just happened.

I am eager to get back to my suite and into my bath. Sacha is out and Bridge still asleep. While the bath is filling I look down at him, and smile. So beautiful and so sweet: so unlike Taz it is hard to believe they are of the same race. My bath is huge and it is easy to submerge myself completely. Around the side, there is a shelf, which makes it possible for me to sit, with my head above the water, and relax. There is a tray beside the bath, on which there is a bottle of fine red wine and three glasses. Sacha is a mind reader.

I pour myself a glass of wine, drink deeply and relax. My mind begins to drift and I slip towards sleep. I have no idea how I fail to hear someone enter. My senses are acute and, if nothing else, I can feel the thoughts, if not hear the footsteps. Nevertheless, I am aware of nothing, until the ripple in the water alerts me to the fact that someone else is entering it.

I open my eyes in surprise, to find Bridge's smiling face inches from mine. I jump. "Where did you come from?"

"The bedroom." He smiles, knowing exactly what I meant.

I can't help but smile myself; especially when he leans over me, resting his body on mine. It is so small and fragile compared to Taz. I hold him gently and run my hands up and down his back. He kisses me, sweetly and gently.

"You are so beautiful, Bridge."

"Not really but I like it when you say it."

"Are you feeling better now?"

He considers. "I don't know. I feel happy, I feel cherished, I feel lucky. But I don't feel well. I'm tired and weak."

"That will pass. You've only had one treatment. In a week you will be a different person."

"I already am."

"Indeed you are."

He sits on my lap and I hold him gently. He rests his head against my chest and goes to sleep. I sit and listen to his soft breathing, as the water grows cold around us.

We are still there when Sacha returns. He pauses in the doorway and smiles. This time I both hear and feel his approach.

"Is he alright?"

"Not yet. He is still very weak and tired, but in a few days he will improve. He is already better than he was. At least he is not dying anymore, not so quickly anyway."

"He's so sweet. We spoke a little and I feel..." A dreamy expression comes into his eyes. "I can't explain it; I just know I want to take care of him."

"I'm glad, because that is what you are going to do, what we are all going to do."

I look down fondly into his face and Sacha kneels on the edge of the bath and stares at him too. It's so strange. In a way, the feeling he evokes in me is filial and yet it isn't. There is such an overwhelming desire to protect and cherish. And yet, there is nothing remotely filial in the way I want to touch him and...

Unconsciously, I am stroking his back and thigh. He stirs and looks up at me with sleepy eyes. "Oh. Did I fall asleep?"

"For a little while."

His eyes flick up and he smiles delightedly. "Sacha. Are you going to come in the bath with us?"

"The bath's a bit cold now."

"Oh yes. I didn't notice. We'd better get out," he says seriously to me. "You're going to catch cold." I hug him tightly feeling... overwhelmed.

"I think it's time we both got out."

Still holding him in my arms, I climb out of the bath and Sacha wraps a huge fluffy towel around him. I set him on his feet, long enough to get my own towel and wrap it around my waist, then I scoop him up again. He giggles, as I carry him into the bedroom. He kicks his legs and I practically drop him onto the bed.



Fallen Ch. 1 Pt. 1



1.

“Michael,” she said, “We did not have sex.” Her gaze shifted to somewhere over my left shoulder. “Not really.” 

“Not really?” 

I stared at her incredulously. I watched as a flush began to spread across her face.

I waved the now crumpled piece of paper in my hand. 

“Maria?” My tone was rising. “Tell me what this means?” I glared at her. She began to shy away.

Just a moment before, I’d been happy, when I’d come in through the door. I’d thought it was a prank, a joke, a silly rumor. I thought she would explain. I hadn’t expected this. 

“Michael,” she said, backing up. She almost tripped on the low table near the door. She glanced quickly back. “Michael,” she said, “Please, listen to me.”

She dropped the paperback she’d been holding in her hands onto the table. “We didn’t do it,” she said, “I mean we did not have sex, I mean, at all.” She held out her hands. 

“What does that mean?” I asked. She continued backing up. I followed her.

“Please,” she said. “Listen to me.”

“Maria,” I said, trying to control my voice, “I am listening. Tell me what you meant.”

She backed up against the counter that separates our kitchen from the living room. She stopped there. “Michael,” she said, “I did it for us, for the baby.”

“For the baby!” I stared, wide eyed, at her. Her fair skin had nearly lost its blush. Her blood-red lips were slightly parted. She licked them nervously. I could see the fear there - she was afraid of me.

I felt my own face begin to burn. The paper I’d been holding fell from my hand. 

“For the baby,” I said, angrily. “What the hell do you mean by that?” 

“Michael,” she said, “Don’t use that tone with me.” She widened her eyes at me. She sounded angry, ashamed, and frightened, all at once.

I felt a little frightened myself. I stared at her a moment, and then turned abruptly, looking back at our front door. For the baby, I thought. I felt a little dizzy.

“Maria.” I swallowed and tried again. Our neighbor’s little girl rode by outside, on a new bike without training wheels. “Maria-” She was going much too fast, I thought.

She interrupted me. “No, Michael,” she said, “Listen to me.” I felt her nervous footsteps on the floor. “I’m trying to explain.” She’d stopped somewhere in the middle of the room. “Listen,” she began again, “It’s not the same – it’s not the same with us. I mean with him. As it is with him.” I felt my stomach drop, like it does, when you come up over the top on an amusement park ride. I opened my mouth. Not a sound came out. I took a step toward the door.

“Michael,” she called out, “Don’t leave!” Her voice was shrill, plaintive.

I paused, looking out. 

Maria was standing just behind me. I felt her fingers on my arm. “Michael,” she breathed, “Don’t go.” I stood there for a moment, thinking: it’s vertigo, I thought, that’s what they call this. 

She clutched my arm. “Try to understand,” she said. She stepped in closer. I could feel her breathing on my neck, her nipple through her blouse, her thigh through the thin cotton of her small summer skirt. “Michael,” she said, “I’m doing it for us.” I swallowed, feeling a fierce hot anger building inside me. I started to pull away, but she pressed her nails into my flesh. “Don’t go!” she said. I turned on her. 

“Michael,” she said, “Don’t.” Her blue eyes were rimmed with red. Her blonde framed face was smeared with tears. “Michael,” she stammered, “I don’t- I don’t enjoy this!”

“Don’t enjoy it!” I yelled back into her startled face. “You don’t enjoy it?” I breathed, panting through my mouth. A little spittle landed on her cheek. 

“I don’t-” she moaned, eyes darting, clinging tightly to my arm, “I don’t enjoy it!”

I stared at her. I had a premonition: a vision: “You’re blowing him,” I said. I felt a preternatural sense of calm. 

Her mouth was open, looking up. I saw her small pink tongue. I watched her touch her lip with it. Her face was turning red again. 

“Michael, I-”

I pushed her. I shoved her. I shoved her small body with all my strength. Her nails tore into my arm as she fell backwards. Falling backwards, she was unable to break her fall. She cried out, falling badly. She landed on her butt, and then continued, rolling up onto her back. Her legs went flying in the air. 

Finally she curled into a little ball, lying on her side, on the floor.

I stood over her, staring down. She lay there and began to sob. An enormous rent exposed her legs all the way up her thighs. 

“Oh God,” she moaned. “Oh God, Oh Michael.”

I swallowed, still breathing hard. I unclenched my fists. I stared. “Maria?” My voice sounded hollow, rasping. She hugged her knees up to her chest; her hair had fallen across her face. I couldn’t tell what I’d done to her, if I had hurt her. I thought of the baby – our baby – inside her. 

Finally I knelt down. I touched her gently on the shoulder. “Maria?”

“No,” she mumbled wetly, quietly. “No.” she said. “I’m sorry, Michael. I never meant it. I never meant to hurt you.”

I felt a painful swelling growing in my chest. It rose into my throat, choking me. 

“Maria-” I tried to swallow.

She shook her head. I could see her pale cold cheek, her necklace, the one she always wore, tangled in her hair. “I’m sorry,” she mumbled. “I really am.”

I opened my mouth. Not a sound came out. I knelt there and watched her breathing. A pool of tears had gathered along her nose. “Maria-”

The buttons on her blouse had broken open. The small gold cross she wore fell off her trembling breast onto the floor. “Maria- I’m sorry.”

A narrow slit of blue appeared between her eyelids. She was looking up at me. 

I gathered myself and stood. “Maria,” I said, “I’m sorry too. I should not have done that, no matter what-” I turned away, but I heard her call my name.

She was crawling. Crawling to me. “Michael,” she asked, looking up at me, wiping her tears and hair from her swollen eyes. “You believe me?”

I inhaled. “I didn’t say that.”

She kneeled there, trembling. “Say it!” she said, “Say that you believe me!”

We stared at each other a long moment. Then I turned to go again. 

“No!” she cried. She wrapped her arms around me, around my knees. “Wait!” I inhaled, and slowly let it out. I turned. 

“Don’t go,” she breathed quietly. I could see the smooth white contours of the insides of her breasts. Her hair was tangled, her blouse and skirt were torn, and eyeliner streaked her face. 

“Maria-” 

“No,” she said. She squeezed tightly, pressing her face against my jeans. “Don’t go.” I reached out to her, to keep my balance. 

“Michael,” she said, “I want to make it up to you.” She turned her face, and pressed her other cheek against me. She was rubbing her makeup and her tears into my jeans. “I want to win your trust again.” She paused. I felt her swallow. “Ask me what you want. About what happened.” 

I thought about that, and shook my head. I blinked my eyes, trying to clear my vision. “No,” I muttered quietly.

She looked up. “Michael?” I shook my head again, not daring to breathe. She leaned into me.

“Michael,” she asked, “Do you still want me?”

I stood there swaying, clutching at her head. “Maria-”

“No,” she said. “Answer me.” She tilted up her head. “Do you? Do you want me?” She squeezed my legs, pressing me against her breasts. “Anything you want,” she said. I knew that she could feel me. I knew that she had felt me. I knew that she would know what it was that I would want.

I closed my eyes. I had to. They were rolling back inside my head. 

I felt her rub her other cheek against me. “Do you?” I had a vision of her kneeling there, it appeared inside my lids. “You can,” she whispered. “If you want.” I suppressed a groan, but it came out as a sigh. I couldn’t help it. 

“Maria-” I gasped out.

“You don’t have to answer me.”

She slipped her fingers inside my pants. 

“Yes,” I hissed. 

I looked. Her lips were shining wet. Her makeup had smeared into angry looking bruises on her cheeks. 

“Yes?” she asked.

I closed my eyes again. I inhaled and let it out. “Yes,” I breathed.

I didn’t see it, but I imagined her sharp white teeth showing in her mouth as she heard me say it. 

“I’ll show you,” she said, “I’ll show you how it’s done.”

No, I thought, please God no. She continued on. “I don’t know why I wouldn’t,” she said. She pulled my pants apart, and drew them down. “I guess I was afraid.” I swallowed, my dry throat hurting me. 

“Maria-”

“No,” she said, “Just hold on.” 

No, I thought, please no. Then she had me out. She’d released me. 

“Maria-” I tried again.

“Shhh.” I imagined her pouting lips. “Let me do this.”

I felt her soft cheek rubbing up against me, against the underside of my cock. Oh God, I thought, Oh God. I felt the wetness there, the mingling of her tears and the semen leaking out of me. Oh God.

She paused, and I reached out. I touched her hair. I touched a drop of slickness there. “Shhh,” she said, “Let me take my time with this.” I groaned, my mental picture of her changing inside my mind. She continued to rub me with her wet slick face. 


“Maria-” I gasped. Oh God, I thought, Oh God. I moaned, open mouthed, and started coming into her hair. I felt her hands on me, her face as she moved her head. “Oh, God,” I moaned out loud. I felt her lips, her tongue. I heard her voice. “Go ahead,” she said. 

I groaned unintelligibly as the last of it squirted out.

When I looked down, she was still looking up, eyes closed, smiling, my come glistening on her face and in her hair. I took a half step backwards and fell against the couch. Oh God, I thought, Oh God, Oh God.

She wiped her eyes with her fingers, fluttering her sticky lashes. 

She did not say a word, but got up and walked around into the kitchen. She ran the tap, and came around the counter where I could see her. She wiped her face with a kitchen rag. She was smiling. 

I tried to smile back. She turned the rag, looking at the mix of makeup, come, and tears on it. She turned it again, and wiped her eyes with it. “Did you like that?” she asked. 

I couldn’t answer. She smiled with one half of her face. “Do you think less of me?” she asked. 

I slowly shook my head. She was wiping my come into her skin.

“Good,” she said.

She came around the counter, her torn skirt swishing on her legs. “Michael,” she said, looking down. “Look what you’ve done.” She drew the skirt apart, showing me the tear. I licked my lips, and then I saw her grinning. She was teasing me; she was showing off her panties. She dropped her skirt and reached up to her blouse. “You’re going to have to pay for this,” she said, fingering the threads where her buttons used to be. 

She came around, and knelt beside me. “Michael,” she said, “Come into the bedroom?”

How could I refuse?



Fallen Ch. 1 Pt. 2



Chapter I

Part 2

2.

She took my hands, and tugged, smiling through her hair. When I continued sitting there, she ducked her head and grinned, pulling harder. I couldn’t help but smile a little; this was an old game we used to play. She strained, as if she was really strong enough to pull me up. 

When I did stand up, she almost lost her balance, but I held on, and she took a quick step back. 

“Michael!” she said, putting her hands onto her hips. “Don’t DO that!” She grinned. It’s what she always did. I wondered if I’d always feel so helpless at her smile. 

Turning, she led me to the bedroom. Once there, she gently pushed me down. “Sit down,” she said. I sat down on the bed.

“What, exactly, do you have planned for me?” I asked. She played with the strands of thread on her blouse where her buttons used to be.

“That depends,” she said, looking down, “on you.”

She put her hands on my shoulders, and climbed onto the bed. She straddled me, sitting on my lap. “We’ll have to see,” she said, “how it all turns out.” She leaned down and kissed me. She kissed my cheek, my ear, my neck. 

I smelled her as she kissed me. Her skin smelled of the scented soap she used. But of something else there as well; the briny taste of come, and tears. I thought of the ocean, before the tide comes in: the naked sea creatures struggling on the beach. She smelled primordial to me. 

“Michael,” she breathed, “Be gentle with me.”

I felt the cold links of Maria’s chain slip down along my skin. 

“Maria-” I called out. I couldn’t breathe.

“No,” she said, “Don’t stop.” She hugged me to her chest. “Don’t ever stop,” she pleaded. I fell back, and she fell with me. Her breasts pressed into my chest. She rubbed her lips against my neck. “Don’t ever stop,” she whispered. She pressed herself down on me. I felt the wetness of her panties.

I inhaled, and let it out. I ran my fingers through her hair. 

She pushed up. She ducked her head, and took off her chain. Looking down, she pulled apart her remaining buttons on her blouse, stopping at her belly. 

I took my eyes off hers and let them fall; to her shining lips, her smudged chin, her sculpted neck, her pale white breasts. Her gaze followed mine. The dying light of the setting sun came through our bedroom window, setting off the rubies in her engagement band. 

“Michael,” she said, “Finish me.”

I sat up and reached between her fingers and pulled apart the remaining button. She twisted her arms behind her, to let it slip off her wrists down to the floor. She studied me. She wrapped her fingers in my hair and pulled me close, leaning forward. 


“Kiss me here,” she said. She arched her back at me. I took her nipple in my mouth, kissing it, and sucking. “I like it when you do that,” she sighed. I kissed her other breast, exhaling, and felt it harden against my tongue. “Oh-” she said. I sucked, nibbling, and felt her fingers pulling at my hair. She pulled her nipple out of my mouth. It made a soft, wet sucking sound. She twisted, at her shoulders, rubbing it on my face and mouth. I looked up and saw the sly smile playing on her lips. Her movements slowed, and I caught it in my mouth, and this time also with my teeth. “Oh-” she said. After a moment, she began to try to move again, to pull her nipple out. I bit. “Oh!” she said. I felt her fingers clinching in my hair. She arched her back, trembling. “Oh Michael. . .!” I pressed down a little more, and then released her. Her breath was rasping in her mouth. 

“Thank you, Michael.” She began to rock her hips against me, pressing down. “I like this,” she said. “So much.” Her skirt tore along her hips. I leaned back. Her panties made a squishing noise as she rubbed them up against me. 

“Wait,” I asked. 

She looked down at me, and then down between us, and then she brought her knees together, making space. She reached into her skirt, into the tear, and found me. She brought me up, and rubbed me, rubbed my cock against her pantied cunt.

“Is this what you want?” she asked. I groaned, nodding yes. 

She stretched her panties to the side, and then leaned down, pressing my cock against her slick wet cunt.

“Michael, I’m going to fuck you. I’m going to fuck you hard.” 

I groaned. I’d never heard her use that word before. I watched her lick her lips, preparing to impale herself on me. I pushed up, arching, trying to get inside her cunt. I felt my cock slip off her slick wet hole and I started coming. “Oh, God,” I moaned, eyes closed, as I sprayed my come into her pussy hair. 

She continued stroking me until I was done.

After a moment, I felt her climbing off of me. My cock slipped out of her hand. “Maria-”

“It’s ok,” she said. I watched as she wiped her hand against her skirt. She leaned down. “I don’t mind,” she said. I felt her hot breath against my face.

I swallowed, reaching out. “Maria-”

“No,” she said, “Don’t talk.” 

She leaned against the headboard, sitting up. 

I watched her chest rise and fall. She was breathing through her mouth. Her face, and neck, and breasts were flushed. 

“Maria,” I said, reaching out again. She blocked my hand.

“No,” she said, “Not like that.” I dropped my hand. “I mean,” she said, “I don’t want to – like that.”

I listened while her breathing slowly eased. She touched my head. The ceiling fan above our heads turned slowly. A grit of dust and grime had built up along the flat edges of the blades. I felt her fingers in my hair.

“Maria-”

“Michael,” she interrupted, “You believe me don’t you?”

I inhaled and closed my eyes. I didn’t want to think about it. A mental picture emerged before my eyelids: her, kneeling before another man. 

I swallowed, gasping. “Maria.”

I felt her getting up off of the bed. 

“Maria!”

I turned, and watched her naked back recede.

“Maria, how long?” I asked.

She paused in the doorway, glancing back. “Not long,” she said. She closed the bathroom door. I lay there for a minute, feeling tense and weary.

I got up and pounded on the door. “Maria, tell me!” She turned off the water in the bathroom sink. I heard her footsteps on the floor.

“Go away,” she said softly. I pounded my fist again, causing the door to shudder. I heard her catch her breath. “Go away,” she repeated. I stared at my clenched fist. 

I slowly put it down. “Maria, come out,” I said. 

Suddenly the door swung open. She was standing there, her skirt and panties on the floor.

“Do you think this is easy?” she asked. She was crying again. “Do you think this is easy for me?” She stared at me a minute, panting, eyes wide. “It’s NOT.” She slammed the door shut again. This time I heard it lock. I heard her toothbrush wrapping on the sink, and then the shower faucet coming on. 

I turned, and went, and sat back on the bed. While I listened to the shower, I dressed, and watched, as the last light faded from the room.

When she came out, it was dark, except the light coming from the bathroom. Her hair was wet, and dripping. She was wrapped up in a towel. She adjusted it, pulling down on the lower hem, like it was an extremely short dress that she was wearing. 

She did not look at me. She gazed across the room, at the window. I could see her reflection there. “Michael,” she said. “I’m sorry, for what I said before.” I sat silently. “I didn’t mean it. I want you to know-” She paused, swallowing. “Everything.”

She turned, facing me. “Michael, do you love me?” 

I looked down. “Maria, don’t ask me that.” She came over, standing over me. I watched drops of water falling to the floor.

She touched my chin, and gently turned my face up. Her towel was too short to cover her. Beads of water stood out against her chest. Her dark-looking hair clung wetly to her neck, and trailed down around her shoulders. Her eyes were wide, but I could not see into them. “Michael?”

I inhaled, and held in my breath. “Maria,” I said, “Don’t ask me that.” She started to turn away, but I caught her by her towel. “Maria,” I said. She turned. “Maria-” I looked up at her. “Nothing could ever change that.”

She smiled as she caught my face in her hands, and kissed me. She kissed my lips.

After a moment, she stepped back, looking down. “Michael,” she asked, “Is there any way?” She fingered the towel, where it crossed her breasts.

I thought there was. I caught the towel where it crossed her thighs and pulled her closer. 

“I’m so glad,” she said. She kneeled on the bed, spreading her thighs across my lap. “Michael,” she whispered in my ear, “I was thinking about it – about you – in the shower.” She kissed me, nibbling on my ear. “I touched myself,” she said, “in there.” She pressed down with her teeth. “I’m really, really wet,” she said. “Would you do something for me?”

She had me lay back. She gripped the headboard, crouching over me. I saw she’d put back on her necklace. “Michael, make me come,” she asked, looking down at me. She pulled off her towel and threw it off the bed. 

The hair between her legs was wet; it smelled of soap, and of her pussy. But I didn’t taste the smell of come that I had left there. 

I searched her out, searching with my tongue, until I found her little nub of skin. I touched it with my tongue, licking it. I blew a little puff of air. “Oh-” she cried out. I felt her adjusting herself against my jaw, pressing it up, and in. 

I licked my already wet lips, and sealed them around her, sucking down. “Oh, yes,” she cried, “Oh suck me, suck!” She rocked herself back, like she was fucking me. 

I teased her, rubbing the soft underside of my tongue against the swollen nub. “Oh God,” she cried, “Keep doing that. . .!”

She pressed down, pressing my teeth into her soft flesh. “Oh God,” she moaned, “Suck, oh please suck.”

I sucked, rubbing with my tongue. She began to come, crying out. My jaw ached from the pressure of her cunt pushing down. My chin was pushed up inside of her. Her juices seeped slowly down my cheeks. She let out a long, high-pitched whine, unlike anything, quite, that I’d heard from her before. 

I was suffocating; I could not breathe. But I waited; I waited for her to finish. 

“Ah. . . ah. . . ah. . .” she moaned, shoving down. Finally I released her, and she rolled off of me. Drops of sweat stood out against her forehead, mingling with the water from the shower. “Oh, God,” she breathed, “Oh God.” She held my hand. She reached out and took my hand. “Thank you.”

After a moment, she looked over. “Michael,” she said, “I didn’t know.” She was smiling. She crouched over me, and lowered herself down. It hardly took a moment; she was so slick and wet inside. 

She fucked me slowly, looking down. “Do you like this?” she asked. I groaned “yes,” and briefly closed my eyes. I started coming when she leaned down, her lips touching mine. I thought that she was coming too. 

Maria is small inside; she cries out if I press too hard. This time I came against the very bottom of her, while she moaned against my mouth. 



Fallen Ch. 1 Pt. 3



3.

That night I had a dream. In my dream I was standing in the hallway leading to John's office. I was standing there alone, but I knew that they were in there. I was by the door. It was a heavy wooden door, I knew that from when I worked there, and I stood there, listening. I couldn't hear anything. The handle on the door was steel. I was expecting, I think, an electric shock when I touched it. Instead, I had the sensation like I was falling. I touched it, and it began to turn. I watched it turning, and then the door slid silently open, slowly. I saw her there. She was wearing nothing but a pair of stockings – slutty, black, fishnet-style – and a corset that ended below her breasts. Her head was down. She was sucking him. In my dream, his cock was huge. It could not possibly have fit inside her mouth. But it did. Then she lay on his desk, on her back, legs spread, pleading for him. As he entered her, she turned her face to me, her lips smeared with cum. "Oh, yes!" she moaned, "Oh God, yes! Please!"

Around three am, I woke up. I was sweating; panting. I looked over at my wife. She was sleeping on her back, her face turned to the side, breathing lightly. She was wearing a thin cotton nightie, one she knew I liked. I watched the material shift along with the rise and fall of her chest. She looked beautiful, her lips parted slightly; I've known Maria to talk sometimes, in her sleep. She'd thrown off the comforter; the sheet was twisted around her hips. I touched her lightly, tugging at the sheet. She turned her head. I watched her wet her lips. But her expression didn't change. I pulled it back, exposing her thin legs to the summer air. She closed her mouth; the breeze tousled her hair.

She didn't move when I separated her legs; nor when I crept between them. 

When I entered her, her eyes flew wide; I covered her open mouth. I shoved myself into her. Hard. I felt her bite my hand; and didn't care.

I released her mouth, just before I came. 

"You didn't fuck him, did you?" Her eyes glittered in the dark. 

She stared, and then she shook her head. "Only you, Michael" she cried, "You're the only one." I came, for the second time inside of her, inside her cunt, moaning into her mouth.

I slept much better after that. 

She left a row of little scratches on my back.

In the morning I drank coffee and juice in the kitchen, and watched my wife preparing breakfast. She was wearing a thin cotton sundress; I could see her figure clearly when she stood, stirring at the window. When she reached up into the cupboard, to get a box of sugar, her hem rose well up on her hips; I saw the floral pattern of her underwear. 

"Did you talk to the mechanic?" she asked, turning around. 

I nodded. The Camry's transmission was going out; I could not afford to get it fixed. 

She started talking about her new doctor. She was excited that she didn't have to go to the clinic anymore. We'd finally re-qualified for health insurance with her new promotion down at work; though it was not as good as the insurance we had lost when I had left there. She was going to have a sonogram.

I pushed back my cup. I stood up. "I'm going," I said. Even with the insurance, I wasn't sure how we'd make the co-pay.

"Wait. You haven't eaten." She held French toast with powdered sugar in her hand.

I stared at it, and then up at her face. "I'll grab something on the way," I told her.

She pouted, but when I started to turn away, she put down the plate and put her arms around me. She rose on tippy toe and kissed my neck. "I love you." 

I grimaced. "You better," I said. That old joke again.

I waved at the neighbor on the way to the car, hoping it would start. On the way to work, I thought about the last thing she'd said: "I liked," she'd whispered in my ear, after she had kissed me, "What you did to me last night." I drove to work with my cock straining at my pants. 

By early afternoon, I'd done everything I could. I'd had three projects at the time: the first two I awaited payment on; the third still needed client go-ahead. I balanced the checkbook twice, looking for mistakes, and went through our stack of bills again. And then I put them back into my briefcase. There was only one that I could pay. I called the bank, and then sat there, staring at the phone. 

Around three I called my sister, in Arizona. She told me all about her latest girlfriend, and complained about wanting children again. She was afraid she'd never have them. She was thirty-one, the same age as my wife. I told her the same things I always did. 

"If anyone would make a perfect parent," I told her, "It's you." We'd had this same conversation several times before. She was a social worker in New Mexico, and she couldn't afford to quit her job, and didn't want to raise her kid in daycare. 

Then I found myself telling her about the situation with Maria.

There was a long silence at the other end. "Michael," she finally said. She sounded worried. "I don't know what to tell you."

"I know," I said.

"I know how you feel about Maria."

"Yes."

"You remember what I said." She laughed. "She's too beautiful for you."

"You never told me THAT."

"Well," she said, "I've always thought it."

I snorted, shaking my head.

She sighed. "I'm worried about you, Michael. Women like Maria are always trouble for men like you." She laughed again. "I should know."

"Don't," I said, smiling. "Besides, you're not a man."

She laughed, and then we listened to each other in silence for a moment. It was painfully obvious to me she thought I loved Maria more than I should. "Michael," she said at last, "They're calling me. I have to go."

"Ok."

"I love you."

"I love you too," I said.

"Michael," she said, before she got off the line. "Always remember, sex is not the same as love." I nodded, not smiling, and put down the phone. 

After that I grabbed my stuff and headed home. 

The Camry didn't make it. I had to spend the last twenties in my wallet to tow it home. 

Maria wasn't there. It was a little after four. She hadn't said anything about going anywhere. I watched a game on TV, with the sound on mute. I couldn't really concentrate. 

When she came in, she was holding a couple bags of groceries. 

"Where were you?" I asked.

"I went shopping," she said, holding up the groceries. She put them down. "Michael, what's wrong?"

I looked at my watch. "You were gone for hours."

She motioned toward the car. "I bought some clothes."

I sat down, staring back at the TV. I had half a beer in my hand; we were out of wine.

"Michael, you believe me, don't you?" She knelt down on the floor, across from me. I stared down into her ocean – colored eyes. It didn't take long, I admit. I discovered when she pulled up her skirt and climbed onto my lap she wasn't wearing any panties. We made love on the chair while ice cream melted onto the floor.

On Thursday, I drove Maria's Celica, and dropped her off at work. Its inspection was overdue. I borrowed ten bucks from her so I could get it done. 

She'd left her purse behind, and I picked through it, one-handed, while I waited in traffic for the cars ahead to start to move. At the bottom, I felt a crinkly, plastic package, with a squishy slimy ring inside. 

It was a condom. The cheap kind, like we'd used to use, when we'd first got married. I swallowed, staring, until the asshole behind me leaned into his horn. I took my foot up off the brake. "Exp. 2002," it had said. I wondered what that meant. 

I never even saw the light at the end of the next block. The front grill of the BMW passed within inches of the side of Maria's car. I saw it like a movie on TV, slowed down. Afterward, I pulled over to the side, breathing hard. I still had that condom in my hand. I slipped it into my shirt pocket. After a while I put Maria's car back in gear, and pulled back out again. 

We'd made an appointment for lunch, and I sat there outside the office tower, in the street, and waited. I was fingering the slippery condom package in my hand again. When she approached, I noticed the dress that she was wearing. It looked two sizes small for her. Not her normal style, I thought. 

"Michael," she asked, when she got in, "What's wrong?"

I'd put the car in drive, but held my foot down on the brake. She looked over at the condom package I was holding in my hand. I took my foot off of the brake, and eased the car into the lane.

"Michael?" she asked. 

There was a UPS truck stopped ahead of me. I shifted to the next lane out. "What's this?" I asked. I glanced over. She was staring straight ahead.

"I don't know," she said, "-anything about it."

I sped through a yellow light. I realized I had no idea where we were going.

"Don't lie," I said, "It was in your purse."

"Michael, slow down." I took my foot off of the gas.

"What is it?"

She has on too much makeup, I thought. She put her hands up on the dash. 

"It's one of yours," she said, at last. 

I pulled into the next lane over, but couldn't merge. We were about to pass under the freeway, into the "bad" part of town, and I still did not know where we were going. "What do you mean by that?'

"I got it out of your drawer." 

She was right of course. I had a handful of them left over, from the first year of our marriage.

"Why was it in your purse?" I slowed down. We'd left the business district. There was a man in a wheelchair trying to cross the street ahead. 

"Michael," she said, "I told you, I'm not fucking him."

I gritted my teeth. The guy behind me honked his horn. I resisted the urge to get out of the car and kill him. Barely. 

"What it was doing there?"

"Michael," she said, softly, "Pull over." There was a parking lot across the street, next to a sleazy run down motel. "There," she said. She pointed. 

I pulled in and stopped. I put the car in park. "What was it doing there?"

"Michael," she said, "I put it there, because I thought we'd use them. But we don't." Images filled my mind I didn't want. "No one does," she said, "Not -not for that."

I stared out across the parking lot. "Vacancy," the sign said. The windows were boarded up.

"Michael," she said, "This will all be over soon." She reached out and touched my hand.

"What do you mean by that?" I watched her eyes drop to my lap. 

"Soon," she said. She rested her hand on my thigh, leaning toward me. Her blouse fell forward, away from her chest. She was naked under it. 

"I promise." She squeezed my thigh. "Michael," she asked, "Will you let me make it up to you?"

I looked away. I could feel her eyes on me; I felt naked already.

"Maria-"

"It's only at the office," she said, "You have me all the rest."

"Maria!"

She was touching me now, rubbing me through her pants. "Please," she said. "Right here. Right now."

I inhaled again. A homeless looking black man and his dog were wondering along the sidewalk on our left. I felt her fingers begin to undo my pants.

"Maria!"

"Shh," she said. "Let me do this." She unzipped me, and pulled me out. Her fingers felt cool against my hot, hot skin. 

"Maria-"

"You haven't come yet in my mouth." She smiled and lowered her head. 

The inside of her mouth felt warm, compared to the outside of her skin. I knew I was already leaking, but she didn't seem to mind. 

I watched her cheeks hollow out. I held back her hair. I stroked her throat as she swallowed, sucked, and swallowed. I felt her Adam's apple move. She stroked my cock with her fingertips, and gently cupped my balls. When I came, I saw the a little bit of come bubble out from the corner of her lips, and seep slowly down my cock onto her hand. She continued swallowing until I was done. 

She touched her fingers to her lips, and then sucked them in her mouth, looking eye to eye at me. "I liked that," she said. She found a tissue and wiped her chin.

I pulled out and we drove in silence after that. 

I didn't ask: "Is that what you do for him?" I didn't ask is she liked it too. 

As we approached the office tower, she said she had to hurry, because she was had a meeting she had to go to, and she had to brush her teeth.

"Maria," I asked, as I stopped the car, "Does he know?"

She looked at me and smiled. "No," she said. "I would never do that." She kissed my cheek and left me there. 

It was two days later I went to Maria's office, at a little after one.



Fallen Ch. 1 Pt. 4



4.

Nina, the floor receptionist, smiled broadly when she saw me. But a look crossed her face when I told her what I wanted.

“She’s in a meeting-” she said, turning her head, but keeping her eyes pinned on mine. “Do you want me to let them know you’re here?” Her hand hovered above the phone.

“No,” I quickly said. “I’ll wait.”

I took a chair, but realized I couldn’t see from where I was. I moved it halfway across the room. Maria watched me through her long dark lashes. When I looked up, she looked away. She pretended to be busy. I watched her typing on her keyboard. Every once in a while she’d glance up at me.

Finally she stood up. “I’m going to take my lunch,” she said. But instead of heading for the door, she came around to me. She leaned down, and pressed a torn off piece of paper in my hand. “Call me,” she said quietly, glancing down the hallway. “If you want to talk.” I watched her head out of the room. She did not look back again.

I opened up my hand. “Call me,” her note said. She’d written down a number. 

At one twenty I got up and walked slowly down the hallway. The door was solid, heavy, like it had been in my dream. The handle was burnished steel. I stood there. I couldn’t hear a thing. I touched the handle, but I didn’t try to turn it. I stood there, and then I turned and walked quickly back to my chair. 

She came out at one thirty-one. She paused, at the doorway, looking back. The sun from John’s picture windows washed her face and body, lighting up the hallway where she stood. Her lips glistened in the sunlight. She touched them lightly with her tongue.

Her hair was mussed. She wore a pair of gold rim glasses. She was listening to something he’d said. She nodded, and turned to go. The back of her skirt was badly crinkled. As she shut the door, I saw one of the dark stockings that she’d worn had ridden down her leg. The whiteness of her thigh between her stocking top and her hemline flashed briefly in the sunlight, before she shut the door. Then she was gone, walking quickly down the hallway.

I hadn’t even known she owned a pair like that.

I confronted her at home, feeling angry and afraid. I couldn’t quite bring myself to say it; to tell her what I saw. 

So I asked her about her stockings. 

We were in the kitchen. She was standing by the sink. She whirled at the tone I used, looking angry, and concerned. “I bought them,” she said. She put her hands on her hips. “I told you that.”

“Why-” I demanded, “Are you wearing them to work?” 

She stared back at me a moment, before she dropped her eyes. She turned around. She said something I couldn’t hear. 

“What?” I demanded. I noticed the back of her stocking top was still showing underneath her skirt. “What?” I demanded, louder.

She put her hands on the counter, and lowered her head.

“He takes pictures,” she said. “I was going to tell you-”

I took a half step forward, so I was standing inches from her back. “Don’t hit me!” she cried. She hunched her shoulders, as if bracing for a blow. I held my breath, angry with her for saying that. “Maria-”

“No,” she said, “Please don’t.”

I stood over her, breathing hard, watching the muscles in her neck.

“Maria, turn around.”

She looked up at me, like a frightened little child. “That’s all it is,” she said, “I didn’t tell you because I was afraid it’d be like this.”

“Maria-”

“No,” she said, “I mean, I’m sorry. I should have told you before. It’s just – I don’t let him touch me, so we do – other things instead.”

I stared at her, afraid to ask. “You don’t let him touch you?”

“No,” she said, shaking her head, “Except, you know, my mouth.”

I turned away. It was like a punch in the gut, to hear her say it; though of course I’d already known.

“Maria-”

“No,” she said, “We’ll talk later.” She was creeping from the room. “You’re too angry now.”

I watched her turn her back on me.

“Maria,” I said, “Your stocking top is showing.”

She craned her neck to look behind. I watched her face turn red. She looked at me. “All day?”

I sat down and watched as she adjusted it, pulling up her skirt to pull it up.

“I’m so embarrassed,” she said. She stared at me. Then she came and sat down at the other end of the table. 

“Michael,” she said, “They’re just pictures. I promise.”

I shook my head, not looking at her face. “Why,” I finally muttered. I looked up. “Why are you doing this?”

“Michael,” she said, “You know that.” I stared at her and then I got up and left the room.

I got up quickly and walked away. I headed for the bedroom and shut the door. I sat there, staring at my hands; I was trembling. 

After a few minutes she knocked lightly and came in. I glanced up and then looked down again. She knelt in front of me. “Michael,” she said, staring up at my face. “In the future I’ll tell you anything you want to know. Promise. Anything at all.”

Her eyes were watery, dim. “Maria-”

She took my hands. “Don’t talk. Look at me.” She put my hands on her chest. “Feel my heart.”

I did.

“You know I’m telling the truth to you, don’t you?” she asked. 

Three days later, Maria’s voice rang out from the bedroom when I came into the house. I’d forgotten she’d been to the hospital. “Honey,” she called out, “we have pictures!”

She’d left her bag lying on the table in the living room. The top of the bag had fallen open, and some of her things were spilling out. There was a hairbrush and a compact. There was also a stack of cards, black squares with white borders.

“Honey,” she said, “Look.” She handed me a series of grainy black and white images; she’d had her first sonogram. I saw her glance down where I was looking as she handed them to me. I examined them smilingly as she pointed out the little body parts.

“Wait,” she said, “There’s more.” She started to turn, reaching down for her purse, but I stopped her. 

“What are these?” I asked, picking up the cards. 

“Michael,” she said.

“What are they?” She blocked my hand, crossing my arm with hers.

“Don’t look at that.”

We stared at each other a moment, but I took her arm in my other hand and squeezed, dropping the sonograms to the floor. “Michael,” she said, “Don’t.” She paused, staring at me. “I told you about them.” 

I gently moved her arm away. 

“Don’t get mad, ok?” she asked, still staring up at me.

The first one showed her just standing there, in front of the windows in John’s room. She wore her conservative Dior business suit, the one I gotten her in New York. She was standing casually, partly turned away but facing the camera. You’d think it might be a candid shot. She wore her gold-rimmed glasses. “When did he take these?” I asked. She said nothing, but shrugged. “A couple days ago.” She started to turn away, but stopped when she felt the pressure from my hand. “Do I have to stand here?” she asked. I let go, but she didn’t move away. “Do you have to?”

I studied the picture. She looked good. Her hair was neatly put up, and the suit still fit her perfectly. Her glasses gave her a look of professional competence. You’d never guess she was an entry-level worker.

In the next one she’d taken off her glasses and let down her hair. She was smiling. I glanced up at her. “Are they all like this?” She shook her head.

In the third one, she was looking down, unbuttoning her blouse. A lacy white teddy was showing underneath. She put her hand up, covering the picture, but when I looked at her, she quickly put it down again. “You don’t have to look at these,” she said. 

I shook my head and turned to the fourth. She was mostly naked now, wearing only her stockings, bra and panties, and high-heeled shoes. I felt my face begin to flush. She was leaning up against the windows, giving the cameraman a kind of sultry smirk. I glanced up at her. “You look like you’re enjoying this,” I said. She shook her head, staring down at the photo.

In the next one, she was lying on her back on the sofa. Her right leg was lifted onto the sofa’s back; the heel of her left shoe was on the floor. The camera angle was from between her legs. Her eyelashes hid her eyes, though she appeared to be looking at the camera. Her right hand was in her underwear; her left clasped a heart-shaped necklace around her neck. Her necklace and her wedding and engagement rings reflected light. I’d given her the necklace for mother’s day. “Proud of that?”

I turned the picture so she could see. She flushed more deeply, but lifted her eyes to mine. 

“Do you?”

I felt the heat rising to my face as I turned the picture back.

The next photo showed her from behind, completely naked. She was leaning forward, with her hands pressed against the window, legs apart. She wore only shoes and stockings. The light from the window filtered through her pussy hair.

The next one was the same, except she was looking back, smiling.

I grimaced. I didn’t want to show it, least of all to her, but the pictures were--affecting me. 

I shifted on my feet, uncomfortable with her body heat. She was standing so close to me.

She held my hand, steadying the photo.

“Michael?” She glanced up. Her lips were parted and I could see her tongue. “You like them, don’t you?” I looked back down at them.

Her nails were a dusty shade of pink. She moved her finger out onto the image.

“It’s ok,” she said. “So do I.”

I was weakening. I moved to turn it to the next one, but she spread out her hand.

“Not yet, Michael,” she said. “Not yet. Take me to the bedroom.” I looked at her hand; it was trembling. Her wedding and engagement bands were tight around her finger. She was gaining weight, due to her pregnancy; her rings needed to be re-sized. She pushed the pictures down and leaned into me. She kissed my face. She rubbed her breasts against my chest. I felt her little belly pressing against me. I dropped the photos to the floor.

With a shy, mischievous grin, she took down my pants. She took my cock out and led me by it to the bedroom. 

She fucked me slowly on the bed. She fucked me with her stockings on. She bottomed out on me several times, but did not complain; instead she wiggled her hips in pleasure. As I felt her climax coming on, she leaned close and kissed my lips. “Of course that’s only some of them,” she said, “John still has the rest.”

Her pussy clenched and squeezed my cock, slippery in her juices. I came and came and came, and felt her come on top of me.



Fallen Ch. 10



Bridge moves ridiculously quickly when he wants to and, before I know it, he has whipped away my towel and flicked it at my buttocks. It stings and I stare at him, in shock.

"You little minx." Sacha laughs warmly and leaps for him, but Bridge is too quick and evades him, leaping lightly off the bed and making a run for the door. He would have made it too, if it hadn't been for me. I catch him around the waist, swing him round and toss him onto the bed, where Sacha is waiting and pounces on him.

Bridge squirms, giggling but Sacha has him pinned down. After a while, he subsides, panting and grinning. Sacha isn't grinning; he's staring at Bridge, with a strange look on his face. Noticing, Bridge's smile fades and he looks uncertain. I can practically see his mind working. He's wondering what he's done wrong. But I know the look on Sacha's face very well. He has done nothing wrong, nothing at all.

After gazing at him for a long moment, during which Bridge starts to squirm, in a completely different way and his uncertain look turns into a frown, Sacha whispers his name and he finally gets the message. The frown disappears, but he still looks uncertain, going still and looking up at him, with wide eyes. Slowly, Sacha lowers his head and kisses him, very gently. There is something about Bridge that makes you want to be gentle with him. In so many ways he is the complete opposite of Taz. For a moment, my mind puts them together and I shudder. That is something that's never going to happen.

Bridge's arms have gone round Sacha and he is gently stroking his ribs. Sacha's arms are trembling. In fact, all of him is trembling and I know why. Bridge's touch is light and soft, but it wakes some powerful emotions. Most of the time, it's hard to remember what he is... was, but he certainly knows what he's doing. It makes me smile to think that he is so completely not what he seems. 

The stress that' been plaguing me since the incidents in the tower room, and which had eased slightly in the bath, now lifts from my shoulders and I relax completely.

As Bridge and Sacha continue to kiss, more deeply now, I climb onto the bed behind Sacha and press my body close to his. I wrap myself around him and lightly brush Bridge's arms, as they continue to stroke him. Bending forwards, I lay my cheek against the soft skin of Sacha's back and inhale deeply of his scent. He sighs and a soft moan escapes his lips, which are still locked with Bridge's.

Turning my head, I kiss Sacha's back and work my way up his spine, while Bridge's hand moves from his ribs to stroke his chest. Sacha's breathing is quickening and I know that I'm going to have some sweet, sweet fun.

When I reach his neck, Bridge strokes down over his belly to take his, already half hard, shaft into his hand. Sacha whimpers and twitches. Very, very careful I release enzyme into his neck, just behind the ear and he would have collapsed onto Bridge, if I had not been holding him tightly around the waist. As it is, his head falls forward to rest, heavy on Bridge's shoulder. 

"Is he...?" Bridge asks with anxious eyes.

"He's fine." I smile. "Better than fine, and he's going to be even better, with your help."

I gently lower Sacha to one side. He isn't unconscious, just deeply relaxed. He smiles dreamily and reaches for me. That's not what I have planned, so I move away and manoeuvre Bridge into his arms instead. Sacha is not capable of sustaining a kiss, so he contents himself with tangling his hands in Bridge's hair, while Bridge teases his lips and then moves down to his throat. Sacha sighs and moves his head, to give him better access.

I smile to myself. Sacha is primed for the ride of his life and it has never pleased me more to be the one in the driving seat.

While Bridge continues to kiss his way down Sacha's body, I begin with his feet and work my way up, releasing tiny amounts of venom behind his knees and in the joint of his hips, heightening the sensation and essentially turning his legs into highly sensitive jelly.

By now, he is panting hard and moaning and Bridge has reached his groin. With a slight nod to Bridge, I watch him go to work on Sacha's cock and am, again totally, but pleasantly surprised by his skill. By the time he's licked and sucked it completely into his mouth Sacha is incoherent and shaking all over.

I notice that Bridge knows some tricks to stave off orgasm. So does Sacha, but he's in no state to even think about them, let alone practice them. While Bridge sucks him, I gently toy with his balls and then let my finger wander lower to massage his entrance. His breath catches and his hips thrust up into Bridge's mouth.

I don't have to instruct Bridge to stop what he's doing, he simply does and Sacha moans, "Nooooo," when Bridge lets him slide from his mouth and moves up to kiss him. Nevertheless, his arms come up to embrace him and he tries, with limited success, to return the kiss, only to abandon it again when I penetrate him with my fingertip.

He cries out and jerks, throwing his head back and tightening his arms. Bridge raises his head and looks down at him, his eyes wide. He is beautiful, they both are, in very different ways. Sacha is writhing and moaning from my attentions and Bridge surprises me by nudging me out of the way to take my place. He expertly teases and massages Sacha's hole, occasionally slipping his finger in, to make Sacha jump and moan.

I watch him for a while, idly toying with Sacha's shaft, occasionally flicking my thumb across the sensitive head. Gradually, we synchronise, alternating our assaults until Sacha is sobbing. Again, Bridge surprises me, positioning himself between his knees and, after a quick look of enquiry to me, which I acknowledge with a nod, he enters him. Sacha gasps and his eyes fly open. They widen ever further when he sees who it is. For some reason I'd assumed that Bridge would be more comfortable in a passive role. I think Sacha did too.

Bridge has a rapt expression on his face, which slowly spreads to Sacha's, so they are both staring at each other, lost in wonder. Bridge reaches out and gently brushes Sacha's cheek with his fingers. It's an incredibly tender and intimate gesture that makes my heart jump in my chest. The smile that slowly breaks over Sacha's face is wondrous.

When the moment of wonder is over, Bridge begins to move in and out slowly and Sacha hisses and closes his eyes, moaning. Bridge varies the speed and depth of penetration,, to prolong the experience and Sacha is soon feverish and shaking.

Sacha groans deeply as I rotate my thumb over his head, spreading precum as lubricant and adding my own enzymes to the mix, dragging a cry from him that is a mixture of pleasure and pain. He almost stops breathing, as his whole body is swept by wave after wave of intense pleasure that is not yet about bringing him to release.

He is sobbing and begging, as I send alternating pulses of intense pleasure and deep relaxation that has his eyes rolling and his mind so divorced from his body that for a few long moments he forgets to breathe entirely.

I don't need to prompt Bridge. It feels as if the boy can read my mind, which is quite a feat considering I have no idea what's on my mind at this point. Sacha is jerking his head from side to side and his eyes are rolling back. He's at the limit of what he can take, so I stop. As I take him into my mouth, Bridge regulates his strokes, making them long slow and deep. Together, we smoothly bring Sacha to a literally screaming orgasm. Gasping, he thrashes and convulses deeply.

Bridge withdraws, without release and watches fondly as Sacha slowly comes down and lies quivering under him, panting and glowing. While he is still watching Sacha, kneeling between his legs, I slide myself behind him, putting my arms around him. He feels so fragile and, at the moment he is, but I can feel the man he is going to be. 

He sighs and leans back against me. "My turn?" he whispers dreamily into my neck and my response is to run my hands over his belly and chest, ending up making little circles around his nipples. He shivers but his only other reaction is to bury his nose in my hair, locate my ear with his tongue and suck my lobe into his mouth. It is unexpected and sends shivers through me, making me gasp out loud.

"Do you like that?" he whispers and, without waiting for a response the little minx slips the tip of his extremely talented tongue into my ear, so deeply he almost touches my brain. I shudder, as he keeps going. Even though I'm tweaking his nipples somewhat convulsively he is still attacking my ear; sucking, licking and thrusting until I feel shaky inside and out. It's almost unendurable. Why has no one ever done this to me before?

Unable to bear it any longer, I turn my head and kiss him. I can feel him smile. Damn him, this is supposed to be about him.

By now, Sacha has recovered and sits up, so we are sandwiching Bridge between us. I release his lips and he turns his head to continue the kiss with Sacha, who tenderly caresses his hair and shoulders, while I try out Bridge's techniques on his own ear. Whimpering, he squirms but doesn't break the kiss.

I can feel him trembling and it makes me smile. While not breaking the kiss, I bend Bridge forwards, holding his waist until he's on all fours, still kissing Sacha, who has lowered himself backwards, keeping his body pressed against Bridge's. He is now lying against the pillows, with Bridge in his arms, while Bridge is still kneeling between his legs with his bottom up in the air. He deliberately arches his back, presenting to me, and spreading his buttocks, tantalising me with the rosebud between.

Parting him further I lean down and tease him with my tongue. He sighs and pushes back against me, giving me a face full of sweetness. I'm good at what I do, very good and I soon have him squirming; thrusting and sucking as I lubricate him with my saliva.

When I consider him ready, I sit up and slide a finger into him. He does not cry out or even moan aloud, he merely begins to shiver and his legs tremble. Slowly I work my finger in deeper and, when I touch his prostate, I allow a tiny amount of venom to slip from my finger tip.

Now at last, he cries out and jerks, making me smile. "Do you like that?" I murmur and, despite everything he giggles. I can't believe it. This boy astonishes me. I bend over and kiss his back, lost in the wonder of him.

When I rise, I massage him again until I feel him relax and then I enter him, holding on to his hips to steady him. Grunting, he raises his head and throws it back, his red gold tumble of hair brushing his back, which is arched. He reminds me of a cat and I hold him close against me, still within him.

He is breathing hard and I can feel him tremble. I'm concerned about his health and so I don't push him as I would have one of the others. Very carefully I slide out and, even more carefully back in. Bridge pushes back into me, clearly wanting to play but his legs are trembling so much they can hardly support him and he is already breathless.

I tease him again with a slow stroke in and out, allowing Sacha to slide out from under him and turn so that he is lying the other way around; supporting Bridge's shoulders with his knees and taking him into his mouth.

When he is stable and moaning from the attentions of Sacha's talented mouth, I start to move in and out, smoothly and steadily. I have to hold tight to his hips or he would collapse. As I had with Sacha, I let small pulses of venom ripple through him at the culmination of every stroke, making him shake but relax until his head falls forward and Sacha has to work harder to stop him from falling.

More gently than I have with anyone else, for a very long time Sacha and I slowly raise him towards a release that, when it comes is powerful in its own way, and totally unexpected as Bridge is incredibly contained in everything he does, including sex. The only sign to me that he has fallen over the edge is that he suddenly throws up his head and grunts, thrusting back into me, his buttocks trembling.

Sacha, of course is privy to more obvious evidence and he slides out from under Bridge who promptly collapses, lying sprawled face down on the bed. Sacha gets to his knees and presses his lips against mine, opening his mouth to share Bridge's sweetness, and it shocks me. I have tasted many men and they all have their own distinct flavour. But this is... Sacha's eyes are open when he moves his head back and I see that he knows too. Bridge is sweet and smoky and musky. Even this is beautiful. 

Bridge sits up yawning. "That was good. I wish you wouldn't make me so sleepy though."

I lean forward and kiss him, letting himself taste his own sweetness. "When you are well, my darling I will give you what you want. Until then, I will give you what I think you need and are up to."

"Oh really? You will, will you? That is what you will give me... but what about what I give you?"

For a moment I am confused and then he pounces me and knocks me backwards. Suddenly, both he and Sacha are on me and, it seems, all over me. They are everywhere at the same time... licking, probing, tweaking, biting and sucking. They take it in turns to play me and I am happy to relax and let them get on with it. I never thought that it would be so truly wonderful to allow myself to be used.

By the time I climax, I am higher than I have ever been before... well almost. I relax and let myself come down slowly, my eyes closed and my body tingling. Without even opening my eyes, I feel Bridge and Sacha crawl into my arms on either side and I fall asleep listening to the sound of their soft breathing.

It is Serif who wakes me and I open my eyes to see the face of an angel hovering over me. His pale golden hair falls in deep waves around a sweet face, dominated by huge baby blue eyes. He looks like an angel but He,l he is so far from it. The cupid's bow lips curve upwards and he flutters his eyelashes at me.

"Dinner is served, My Lord and you... er... guest is awaiting you along with his... companions."

I chuckle. "Guards you mean?"

He smiles. 

"Dismiss the companions, Serif. Look after him yourself. We will be half an hour. Keep everything warm."

"Look after him, My Lord?"

"Don't hurt him... in any way."

The innocent blue eyes widen. "I would never hurt him, My Lord."

"You would never mean to... but I know you too well for those innocent eyes to fool me, Serif. Stick to Taz for now, although I think perhaps today will have exhausted even him."

"I think not, My Lord," he says, with a look that makes it clear he's speaking from experience.

"One of these days, one of you will go too far."

"We go too far every day, My Lord."

"One day you will kill each other."

"Not deliberately, My Lord."

The look in his eyes makes me briefly consider postponing lunch. "It is long past time you took blood, Serif. Tell Chancey to set it up for ten o'clock tomorrow and have him come to me for further instructions."

Serif smiles and licks his lips, in a way that makes him look less like and angel and more like the demon he is. "As you wish, My Lord." He stands and trails his fingers over my belly, as he turns to leave. I can almost imagine that his touch burns. As I watch his leather clad hips sashay out of the room. I have a moment of doubt about what I have doomed Aqua to but, at this point he needs to be tamed and no one tames like Serif.

The exchange wakes Sacha, who stretches and yawns. His stomach rumbles and he giggles. "I hope that was the call for dinner," he comments. "Or I might have to eat one of you."

I grin back and gently stroke Bridge's hair, calling him softly. He stirs and snuggles closer into me. "Warm." He murmurs and I tighten my arm around him, biting my lip. I glance up at Sacha and see from his eyes that he has had the same thought.

"It's alright, Bridge, I won't let you get cold but you need to get up now to eat."

"Mmm," he murmurs again, but makes no move.

"Bridge, it's time to get up." I shake him gently by the shoulder and he frowns and wrinkles his nose. "Bridge." I can't keep the laughter from my voice. He's like a kitten, clinging to sleep and to me, with stubborn resistance. If he'd had claws they would be breaking the skin by now.

Without preamble, I get up, tipping him off my arm, earning and indignant curse. "What did you do that for?" he grumbles.

"Because we are hungry and if we had to sit here and watch you sleep any longer, we would have had to eat you."

"Mmmm. Yes please," he purrs, giving us both a blatantly lustful look, from beneath demurely lowered lashes.

"You are such a slut, Bridge."

"I'm a whore," he says brightly and doesn't seem to notice when we both flinch. "Race you to the bathroom."



Fallen Ch. 11



The bath has been drawn in expectation of our requirements and we all sink gratefully into the hot water, allowing the stickiness of our previous lovemaking to soak from our bodies. The bath is big enough for Bridge to float on his back looking up at the ceiling.

"It looks like the sky," he says dreamily, as if he is still half asleep.

"What looks like the sky?" I'm busy, rubbing soap into Sacha's body and haven't been paying any attention to what Bridge is doing. I have to smile, when I see him floating. Just about everything Bridge does, make me smile.

"The ceiling. It's blue and white and far away. It's like the sky."

I glance up. The ceiling is far away, true but it does not remind me at all of the sky. It is arched with white beams curving in to an apex, from which hangs, what looks like spiky ball of ice, which illuminates the room. The walls and the ceiling are painted a kind of duck egg blue. Alright I'll admit that the colours might be sky-like, but all it reminds me of, vaguely, is a rather modern church.

Sacha takes the words right out of my mouth. "Maybe, in your world, Bridge."

"I like my world," he says, un-fazed. "In my, world the sun is shining right over me, in a summer sky with white clouds. In my world, I'm floating in a pool, deep in the forest, fed by a waterfall. There're cool green trees all around and wood nymphs playing in the water and..."

"Who are you are calling a nymph?" Sacha laughs and splashes water on him. He's startled and capsizes, thrashing for a moment and going under, until he finds his feet. When he erupts from the water, his hair flying everywhere, scattering droplets like diamonds - he looks like a water elemental.

"You're the nymph," Sacha breathes. "And you've cast a spell on us all."

Again, we exchange a glance and, while we're doing it Bridge plunges into the water and comes up between us.

"Bridge! I'm all wet now."

"You're in the bath, Sacha. You're supposed to be wet."

Laughing, Sacha takes him in his arms and kisses him. "God, you're beautiful, Bridge," he whispers. Bridge throws his arms around his neck and presses his body against him, his only response the hug.

I watch them play... my boys. They look so young, but Sacha is over forty in the years of the outside. I have no idea how old Bridge is, neither does he, but I'm guessing he's under twenty, maybe as young as eighteen. I look down at my hand and see long slender fingers, with black lacquered nails and a single silver ring. They are the hands of a boy of barely eighteen and I have the face and body to go with them. And yet, that it the biggest deceit of all. I have been eighteen for over seven thousand years and lately I've been feeling every one of them. But not now. Now I feel like I am eighteen again.

Wrapping my arms around both of them, I rest my head on Sacha's shoulder, while stroking Bridge's hair.

"It has been a long time, a very long time since I have opened my heart to anyone. I have felt fondness and I have felt tenderness, but briefly, like oases in a desert of careless heartlessness and sterility. I have committed atrocities, for nothing but the thrill of them. Perhaps, I have been seeking death, but only found it in others.

"And now." Both of them have lifted their faces and are staring at me, slightly apprehensive. I smile at each one in turn and they must see what I am feeling in my eyes, because they both mirror the smile back at me. "How can I say that I love you when I have forgotten what love is? And yet... For now, let me just say that you have opened a heart that has been closed for more years than you can imagine and which I had half believed had turned to dust.

"You are my family now. There is no one on this earth that I value more than you... and Aqua whom I am sure you will grow to love as much as I do. He is something... someone very special He has something within him that makes him..." I smile, how can I explain? "Aqua will be made as I am. He has the strength and the special qualities needed to make the transition. You, my little flowers, I would ascend in a moment, if I could, but you are too fragile and you would die in the transition. Know this, that even though you will remain human, you are no less to me for it.

"Someone I loved... love very much pointed out to me recently that my disregard for humanity was a foolish and crass one. The flower that grows in the earth and blooms for just a brief span is the most beautiful of all, far more so than the gardener who reaps it, or the woman who sets it in the vase, or the man who smells its sweetness. Once, I knew that, but I had allowed myself to forget, perhaps it hurt less that way. But no more. You are both precious to me, more precious than I can begin to express. You have done more for me than I thought anyone was able to do and for that you have my love, you have my protection and you have my gratitude."

They both look at me, somewhat stunned and then Bridge starts to laugh. "You don't half speak a lot of bollocks sometimes."

I stare at him, in shock and he splashes water in my face. Grabbing him around the waist, I lift him off his feet to kiss him deeply, then set him down again and climb from the bath.

"Bollocks or not, I have to warn you that you are in serious danger of being eaten, if you don't get your arses out of that bath and into some clothes pretty damn quick."

Bridge giggles. "You can eat me any time." I glare at him. He's biting his lip suggestively and looking up at me through lowered lashes.

"That's not the bit of you I would be scooping out with a spoon. I only eat the best bits."

"Are you trying to tell me that's not my best bit?" He pouts, prettily.

Laughing and shaking my head, I wrap a towel around my waist and precede them from the bathroom.

The terrace is a long patio on the South side of the house. It is shaded by lilac trees and screened from the rest of the grounds by white painted iron trellises, wound with roses.

Cast iron tables and chairs, also painted white, are clustered in groups along the whole length of it and it is heated by garden heaters when there is a chill. There is no need for them tonight.

When I dine on the terrace no one else bothers me, unless I specifically ask them to join me. Other than that, it is used often by all of the boys. The household staff never comes here, unless it is to clean or tend the trees and flowers.

A trailing honeysuckle is vying with the lilac to scent the air and there is a cool breeze, teasing the leaves and making them whisper softly. Almost as if it is part of the sounds of the evening I hear soft moans and smile to myself. At least he's not screaming.

As I muse, there is a loud cry and a curse, as a figure rises suddenly from one of the day beds, at the far end of the terrace. "Demon," a voice hisses and I wonder if I have gone too far, in sending Serif to Aqua. I hurry towards the figure, who suddenly laughs and springs like a big cat, landing on the bed again, with a howl.

I am, actually, shocked to see that the person who had been driven back was Serif. He is naked to the waist, and bleeding from a number of scratches and bites. He is also on fire, his eyes wild and his teeth bared. By the time I get there, he is on the bed, pinning Aqua's hands above his head and kneeling on his legs, to prevent him kicking him off again.

What really surprises me, is the look on Aqua's face. He is as wild as Serif, and there's a fire in his eyes that turns the pupils red. He is fighting like a demon but, as we approach, he raises his head to meet Serif's and kisses him, in a way that can only be described as violent.

"Serif, that's enough." I say, not loudly but with authority in my words. He turns his head, his eyes wide and snarls at me. "Serif... enough!"

He blinks, looking dazed, then gets slowly to his feet, his head bowed. "Yes, My Lord."

"Is this your interpretation of 'looking after' my guest?"

He looks up at me through long, bright lashes, licking blood off those pretty lips and his eyes are burning. "Yes, My Lord," he says, in a voice thick with lust. I have to exert control to prevent myself laughing.

"Go find Taz and burn off your... excess enthusiasm. But be careful, he's still fragile."

"Yes, My Lord." He flashes a glance at Aqua that elicits a similar one in return, then bounces off, tossing his hair.

"Are you alright?"

Aqua's eyes instantly lose their fire and are cold, when he regards me. "What makes you think that I wouldn't be?" He sits up and I can see that is shirt is torn and there is blood on the edges of the tears."

"Serif can get carried away. He looks like an angel, but he can be somewhat... enthusiastic."

"So can I," he returns, getting to his feet. He is glorious. I suspect that Serif has had a hand in dressing him, because, from the waist down he is encased in creaking leather, with silver chains and leather belts, slung low across his hips. The shirt he is wearing had once been pristine white silk, but is now slashed and bloody. He has been sweating and the smell of him makes my nostrils flare, as the sight of him widens my eyes.

"What are you looking at?" he demands, his eyes meeting mine with clear challenge.

"You look good."

"I know." He tosses the beautiful white hair, which now hangs to his waist like smooth silk, over his shoulders and his turquoise eyes snap fire. They are so large and deep and blue. Shaking myself mentally, I pull myself back from the edge of the abyss. Now that I know who he is, I am in danger of losing myself completely in him and he is not ready for that yet.

His eyes flick over my shoulder. "Who are these?" he asks, his voice dripping with distain, "Some of your pets?"

I feel Sacha tense at my shoulder and I slip my arm around his waist, pulling Bridge close on the other side. "No. These are my family, as you soon will be."

He sneers. "In your dreams, freak. I've been told clearly enough that I'm trapped here, but don't expect me to like it. And don't expect me to let you take me without a fight either."

"You didn't seem to be objecting to Serif."

"He isn't the one who kidnapped me and is keeping me prisoner as part of some sick blood bank/harem. He's hot, exciting and expects nothing from be but a good hard fuck. And besides... in case you hadn't noticed I WAS fighting."

"Yes... you were." I can't keep the lust out of my voice and he all but snarls at me.

"I'll fight harder than that with you, you sick bastard. There's no way I'll let you touch me without doing my very best to gouge out your eyes, tear out your guts, cut of your dick and stuff it down your throat."

"I'll look forward to it. However..." Regretfully, I sigh. "I give you my word that I will not take you unless and until you ask me to. Until then, you have the freedom of my house. You may sleep with who you wish... or not. No one will demand anything of you, least of all me. You will live in your own apartments, next to mine. Sacha will be your companion, but he will satisfy himself in my bed and not with you, unless you ask it of him."

He looks uncertain now. "You... you're not going to force me to have sex with you? You're not going to rape me?"

"Of course not. I never force myself on anyone."

"Like you didn't do that to me." he drawls.

"I didn't hear too many complaints and, if I am not mistaken, at our original meeting we made a business deal."

He considers. "Do you really think you bought me, body and soul for a glass of JD?"

"Not at all. You are your own man. I want you, but I don't own you and I am prepared to wait for you."

"You'll wait a fucking long time then."

"I have time."

"Well yeah... I guess so." He looks thoughtful, then he flares again. "You almost fucking killed me. I was... I was..."

"Yes." I say quietly. "There was no excuse for that. To say I am sorry would be an insult. It would diminish the gravity of the disservice I have done to you. To say I regret it, would diminish the depth of the pain I have experienced, in the shadow of the fact I could have lost you."

"Do you always speak like that?"

He surprises me. He actually sounds curious, as if my words meant less than the way I said them. "I speak the way I speak, the way I have always spoken."

"I can see that. So... I smell food. Are you going to leave me here to starve, or feed me? I've had nothing to eat since I came here. The stuff they stuck in my arm doesn't count." I stare at him, in amazement, as he stalks past me, heading towards the table which bears the food.

Sacha seems to have been struck as dumb as I am, but Bridge chuckles. "He's glorious," he says softly. "But I'm glad he's yours and not mine. I'm a bit scared of him."

"Are you really sure you want me to look after him?" Sacha asks, nervously.

"Well maybe 'look after' are not the right words."

"Fucking right."

Aqua has thrown himself into a chair and is delicately picking food from the plate on the table in front of him. He regards us out of veiled, thoughtful eyes. Sacha and I manage to make some kind of conversation, but Bridge just sits close to my side and stares at him.

"Take a picture; you can take it home and perve over it," Aqua snaps at him. I expect him to flinch but he doesn't.

"I don't need to. This is home and you live here too."

"Yeah I do, don't I?" he grinds out glaring at me.

"Why are you so angry? You were a whore too, weren't you?"

Aqua's eyes flash. I think, for a moment he is going to throw himself at Bridge, across the table and I put an arm protectively around him. However, he eventually sits back, chewing his lip. "Not yet. I was going to be, but it didn't work out."

"I know. You don't feel like a whore. I understand; it's scary. Is that why you're so scared now?"

"Scared? I'm not scared!"

Bridge smiles his gentle smile, never taking his eyes away from Aqua's. It was almost as if he was mesmerising him, with his words.

"Yes you are. You're scared, just like I was in the beginning. I was never like you because I was broken long before I ran away. You're stronger than me but you have the same look in your eyes that I saw in everyone's, when I was on the streets. You're scared. But you don't have to be. No one hurts you here. It's warm and comfortable. You get fed and you get..." He looks up at me with the gentlest smile on his face. "Loved," he breathes.

Aqua snorts. "Is that what you think of as love?" But there is something different in his eyes now, something softer. I hadn't realised that Bridge was magical, but he's exuding it now. A magic that makes you want to hold him, to kiss him, to love him. And I can see it beginning to creep into Aqua's eyes.

Suddenly, unexpectedly Bridge gets up and walks round the table. He puts his arms around Aqua's neck and kisses his cheek. "Don't worry Aqua; I'll look after you."

Aqua's eyes widen. "You? Look after me?"

"I promise," Bridge whispers and climbs onto his lap. Unable to resist, Aqua puts his arms around him and holds him, as he snuggles into his shoulder. From the look on his face, I know Aqua can feel how frail he is. He holds him as if he is afraid of breaking him. "I'll be your friend, Aqua. I'll take care of you and make sure you're not scared in the night, like I was. You don't have to be, here." His voice is soft and I have to strain to hear, but Aqua hears.

"My name's not Aqua," he says, but there is no sting in it now.

"Tell me your name and, if it's so important, you may have it back," I say, genuinely thinking to improve relations between us.

The anger snaps back. "Who the hell do you think you are to 'give me back' my name? I don't have much, but my name, at least is my own. I don't remember giving it to you and there's no fucking way I'd ever let anyone take it from me." He stops, in surprise, as Bridge strokes his face. He looks down at him.

"He said I could have my name, too but I didn't want it. I don't want to remember what went before. I don't want there to be a before. This is a good place. I want to be part of it. I want to belong here, and not the place I was before, where men bought my body, as if it was a piece of meat and didn't care what they did to it. Here, they care."

"I..." He can't keep angry when he's looking into Bridge's soft eyes. No one can. "I'm not giving up my name," he says stubbornly.

"I am not asking you to," I repeat. "Give me your name and I will see that everyone uses it."

He looks at me for a moment and the look takes my breath away because I see Her in it. "Star," he says. Of course it is; of bloody course it is. He looks defensive. "It might be strange, but my mother gave it to me before she died and I will not give it up for anyone."

"Star it is." I say, through the emotion that chokes my throat. 

He softens a little, then melts as Bridge says gently. "Star is a beautiful name, like you." Then he sighs deeply and closes his eyes. While Star stares at him and unconsciously strokes the long silky hair, he falls sweetly asleep.

Star looks up sharply. "Is he alright?"

"I thought you didn't care. I thought you didn't care about anyone or anything here and that you despised everyone in my household."

"Yeah well..." He glances down at Bridge, with real affection in his gaze. "Maybe I changed my mind. Maybe I don't hate EVERYONE." His voice betrays a lot and makes me smile inside.

"His name is Bridge. He's a true angel. No, he isn't alright. He's ill, very ill, but he will be alright. I will heal him in a few days."

"You will heal him?"

"Yes."

"How?"

"I am not human. I have substances within my body that I can release into a human body in various ways. They are not all substances which are alien to your world. They are mainly enzymes, but I consider them to be a kind of venom, which has various affects on the host body. I can intoxicate, sedate or even kill... but I can also heal."

"That's what you did to me: when you met me in that bar. You drugged me with your... venom."

"Yes."

He swallows. "And when... when you came to me, when you drained me?"

"That was a mistake."

"A mistake that almost killed me."

I doubt it, I seriously doubt it. It was something more than that, much more. I don't know what it is but I think it was always about bringing her blood, her soul to the surface, waking his true self. "Yes."

"What do you want from me?"

"Nothing."

"You said... you said that I was going to be a pet."

"I did and I also said that you aren't and you won't be."

He frowns deeply. "Then what...?"

"You are a special person Aq... Star. I have done something with you that I have not done with anyone in many thousands of years. I have fallen in love with you. I will not take you by force; I will not force you to do anything that you do not want to do... other than stay here. You will not be a pet, you will be part of my family. If you choose to come to me, I will rejoice. If you do not, I will respect your will. If, in a year you have not come to me, I will let you go."

"I..." He stares at me in confusion. His eyes flick to Sacha and then down at Bridge.

"Do... do you? Are they...?"

"No. They care for me and will stay with me. I care for them too... a great deal... but I love you, and no one but you. I hope that, one day, I can show you how I feel and that you will come to feel for me too, but if not then in a year you will be free, and that is an offer I have made to no one... ever."

He shudders. "No way. Not that. Never."

"As you wish."

"I..." Bridge stirs in his arms and murmurs something softly in his sleep. Instantly Star's eyes turn soft. "I'll think about it. Can I... "

"You have the run of my house Star, you may take who you will when you will... except Sacha and Bridge. They will come to you if they wish but you have no right to insist."

"Of course not," he snaps, his lips curving as he strokes Bridge; his eyes thoughtful and much less hostile, when they run over Sacha, who colours under his stare.




Fallen Ch. 11



"Well then... now that we have that straightened out, can we please eat dinner?"

"I've had enough... and I'm certain that... Bridge? has. Where does he sleep? I'll take him to bed and wait with him, until someone comes."

"He's not that fragile, Star, he's a lot stronger than he looks."

"I don't care. I... I want to..."

"Don't forget..." I say sternly, "he is not yours. You cannot take him unless he invites you."

Star looks at me, as if he despises me then gets to his feet, Bridge still in his arms and sweeps away.

"Do you think Bridge is right?" Sacha asks thoughtfully, as he watches them go.

"About what?"

"About Star being afraid."

"I'm sure of it. But that's not all. He's angry too; angry that he allowed himself to be taken and angry that he enjoyed it."

Sacha chuckles. "I can see why you love him. It is easy to love him. He's like Bridge, but in a different way."

I smile. "Oh, a very different way."

"Are you sure you want me to stay with him? He... he makes me feel... I'm overwhelmed by him."

"He is part of our lives now, Sacha and I have a feeling that nothing is ever going to be quite the same again."

"I think you're right."



Fallen Ch. 12



I wake early with Bridge in my arms. He has been asleep since dinner. When I came back Star was lying beside him, stroking his hair with a thoughtful frown on his face. When I entered the bedroom he stared at me for a long moment and then simply got up and walked out. Sacha stayed with him last night and I am bursting to know how it went.

Bridge stirs as I stretch and reaches for me sleepily. I brush the hair out of his face and leave my hand resting against his cheek. He feels cool and soft and sweet. Blinking open those breathtaking emerald eyes he smiles and turns his head to kiss my hand. Oh Hel, he's so sweet. I lower my head to kiss him and that is sweet too.

"How are you feeling today?"

"Not so tired. I like Star." 

I am a little taken back by his directness and the direction of his thoughts. "I thought you were scared of him."

"I was at first but he's like me."

"What do you mean?"

"He was hurt too. But it didn't break him in the same way. It made me sad and scared but it made him angry. He's hurting inside just like I was but he doesn't realise it yet. When he does he will come to love us too."

"I think he's already half in love with you."

Bridge gives me a strange look and then smiled. "Sometimes you can be so stupid."

"What?" I am taken aback again.

"Never mind. Let's get some breakfast because I haven't eaten in forever. I fell asleep before I ate last night. You should have woken me."

"If I had Star would have killed me."

"He smelled nice." Bridge says dreamily and I am surprised again by the way his mind works.

"You are such a truly beautiful person." Bridge blinks and looks surprised. 

"I am?"

"Yes, you are. And before I let you eat I have to make you more so."

"You do? You can?"

I have to laugh at his wide eyed innocence. How anyone who has been through what he has been through can be that innocent, I don't know. Perhaps when he was a child and the bad things were happening he locked away part of himself somewhere deep inside and this is the first time it has been safe to let it out.

"The only thing that can make you more beautiful is health and that is what I am going to give you."

"Will you make me better today?"

"Not even I can do that Bridge. When I found you, you were days away from death. You were terminally ill and I can't undo that in a day. You are still very ill my sweet one and it will take time to draw away from the edge. But you have nothing to fear I will not let you fall."

Bridge looks at me seriously. "I knew I was dying but I didn't know how close it was. At the time I wanted it so I suppose I didn't notice how close I'd got. I can feel that it's still there. I feel so tired all the time. It's better but not if you know what I mean and sometimes..." He closes his eyes and sighs. "Do you really think you can make me better? I don't want to die now."

"Yes I can make you better and I will make you better. You're not going to die now, I promise."

He opens his eyes again and smiles up at me, touching my face gently. "I trust you." His words are simple but the look in his eyes brings tears to mine. It has been so, so long since someone has so wholly accepted me for who and what I am and has put their life in my hands utterly.

"Close your eyes." I whisper and he complies. I lower my head and lick his neck hearing his sigh as he relaxes and his arms fall away from me. When I sip his blood I taste the sickness strongly. My heart flutters... is it worse? No, not worse just... just... Before I was healing him because I thought it was right, because I wanted him whole for me. Now... now I'm healing him because I really want to, because I care about him, because... because I love him and if I lost him I would go insane. This is why I give my love so infrequently because I love so completely. I had never intended this. It has crept up on me. He has slipped under my guards, under my skin without me noticing.

The taste of sickness is no stronger than before... it is just more obvious, more obscene, more offensive. I will clean him of it as soon as I can, I will force it from his body, I will... but I have to do it carefully. If I try to force it from his body all at once then I will kill him. As much as I want to see it gone, to see him well, I have to take it gently and hope that he is strong enough to cope with it as it lessens day by day.

That is my greatest concern. He is so weak and frail I am afraid that exhaustion will take him before the sickness is gone. Although every day it will be less than the day before, during these first days his body will continue to fight it and there is always a chance that it will fail, that his heart will falter and stop, that he will simply become too tired to live. There is little I can do about that. All of the energy that it is safe for me to give him is given to reducing the sickness.

"Oh Bridge," I whisper. "At this moment I would gladly die for you... but for me... for me you must live."

He shudders and sighs as I carefully drain him, very much aware that in his condition I cannot afford to take much and so I hold back as much as I can while still bleeding my healing into him. This is an enzyme that is only produced during feeding; it helps the body heal the wounds of penetration and replenish the blood loss. I cannot give it to him any other way but I hate the fact that I have to drink from him to heal him.

Bridge moans softly and as I stroke his side and belly, he shivers and moans again. I take things as slow and easy as possible. He is relaxed and sleepy and gives himself willingly to me. This kind of surrender is dangerous and intoxicates me so it is not easy to hold back. I reach down and take him into my hand, slowly masturbating him as his breathing and pulse rate increase making it easier to feed but harder to restrain myself. 

Bridge rides waves of ecstasy gently, as he does everything else. There is no animal in Bridge, no wildness. He is all sweetness and gentleness; light sighs and sweet moans. He does not scream, he does not thrash, he simply trembles and raises himself slightly off the bed as I raise him higher and higher until he grunts and convulses briefly, spurting powerfully, before collapsing inwards, panting.

I raise my head and look at him. His eyes are half closed and there is a smile on his face. I brush away the soft hair and kiss him. He sighs deeply.

"I'm tired, Luma." He whispers.

"I know, little one, I know. But soon you will be better. Now you have to do something. I have taken from you and now I have to replace what I have taken as you are not strong enough to do it yourself. You must drink from me."

"No." His eyes widen. "Can't he do it like he did yesterday? I don't want to hurt you."

"It won't hurt me Bridge, trust me."

"I... don't know if I can."

"I'm sure you can."

"I..." I silence him with a kiss and when I break it he is silent and still. I keep a knife in my bedside table and I take it out and slice it across my wrist. At first I drip the blood into his mouth and he swallows convulsively when it hits the back of his throat. After a while the blood starts to fizz in his veins and he suddenly grabs my wrist and pulls it down to his mouth sucking gently. I smile, a feeling of warmth seeping through me. I have never had anyone feed so gently.

Before it gets to the stage where I am going to have to pull away Bridge lets me go. "I've had enough now." He whispers, his eyes heavy.

"Yes, you have. Exactly enough." He looks exhausted and I am a little worried by that. The process of exchange is tiring, it can be exhausting, but he wasn't so tired yesterday... was he?

"I'm sorry Luma, I don't think I can go down to the kitchen to eat after all."

"That's alright. You stay here and rest. I have to go and do some things and when I get back I'll bring food with me. I won't be long."

"Can you ask Sacha and Star to come and stay with me? I don't want to be on my own."

"Why, what's wrong?"

"Nothing. I just don't want to be on my own." He seems better now, more alert. Maybe I relaxed him too much. He is so delicate it's hard to know how much he can take.

"I'll call by on my way out. Shall I ask them to bring you something to eat?" 

He smiles brightly at me. "Yes please." 

"I'll tell Chancey to give you something special."

He raises his arms and puts them around me pulling me down gently for a kiss. "I love you, Luma." His words come from nowhere and they shake me. No one has said that to me like this, spontaneously, sweetly, sincerely; no one since Her. But this is Bridge, and as much as it shocks me, as much as I want to pull away, as much as I want to slap him and tell him never to presume to say anything like that to me again, I smile, brush his cheek and murmur. "I love you too, Bridge, with all my heart." His smile is worth everything.

I don't knock on the door to Sacha and Star's suite. There is no door in this house that I knock. They are both dressed in robes, sitting in the armchairs, one each side of the fireplace and they are talking animatedly. They both look up when I come in. Sacha gets to his feet and runs to embrace me. Star just glares.

"Don't you ever knock?" he snaps.

"No; never. Go and get dressed, there is something I need you to do."

"Yeah, right. Maybe you have power over me, can make me feel things and do things I don't want to do but don't expect me to do anything for you voluntarily."

I almost smile. "So you are not going to do what I want you to do."

"No. Never."

"Very well; although Bridge will be very disappointed."

"Bridge?" Suddenly he is interested. I am slightly disappointed that the look in his eyes is for Bridge and not for me, but how can I be envious of Bridge?

"He's not feeling well and he wants you to keep him company."

"Not well? Is he alright?"

"I told you last night Star that he is not alright and he won't be for some days yet. I am drawing out the sickness but it has already significantly weakened his body and there is little fight left in him. I can't do both, I can't cure the sickness and give him strength and I can't push too hard with the cure because he doesn't have the strength to take it. I am walking a fine line and it's going to be a few days before he really starts to feel better."

"And in the meantime? He'll be alright? I mean... I know that he is not alright but... he won't..."

"I won't let him die, Star." I say fiercely and suddenly realise how much of the concern I had been holding close to myself these last day or so I have unburdened on his shoulders. He gives me a very strange look and then nods briefly and disappears.

"Could you go down to the kitchen and ask Chancey to make something very light but appetising for Bridge?" I ask Sacha. "He's hungry but I don't think he could manage anything heavy. Tell Chancey I need to build up his strength, he'll know what to do."

"Yes, of course. Shall I go to him then, with Star?"

"Yes, he asked for you too."

"Radu," He looks at me with eyes that are dark and shadowed with fear. "Bridge is going to be alright isn't he... I mean when you heal him?"

I look at him for a moment; his earnest face, his shadowed eyes. "I hope so Sacha, I really hope so."

"Where are you going?"

"To the transfusion suite. I have an appointment with Serif."

"Serif? Oh yes, I remember. Rather you than me." 

"Hmm. I think perhaps he is just what I need right now. On reflection, go straight to Bridge. I will speak to Chancey and send up his breakfast. I have other plans. I need to take blood. I have given too much of myself these last few days I need to seriously replenish. Perhaps that will enhance my healing abilities."

"How long will you be?"

"I don't know. Stay with Bridge until I get back. It will probably be after lunch but Chancey will know where I am if you need me."

"Is Bridge...? Is he...?"

"He's in no imminent danger Sacha. I am worried about him but for the moment he is just very tired. His body is weak but his spirit is very strong. I will continue to give him healing every day and within a few days he will be much better. As long as we can keep him calm and strong until then he will be recovered in a week or so."

"Keeping him calm is no problem. I have never met anyone so calm." I can't help but smile at that.

"You're not wrong Sacha. Keep your eye on Star. He is very fond of Bridge already. Perhaps this can be used to make his connection with us stronger. If I could only get past his anger and pride..."

"We spoke a little last night. I think that Bridge is right. He is afraid. It's not about you or us though. I think the fear comes from before. It's been with him a long time and I think it's going to take him a while to let it go."

"I'm glad that he is, at least, talking to you. Did you take him?"

"No. I suggested it but he was resistant and so I didn't push. We slept in the same bed but we didn't embrace." There is something in his voice that makes me look at him more carefully.

"Do you regret that?"

"Yes. He's very beautiful and once he starts to relax he is... different. I... I am very attracted to him. Not..." he looks up at me anxiously, "... that I have pushed aside my love for you..."

"In this house love is not jealous or selfish. We are a family of four and when Star is ready our love will be freely given between us all. It is right that we should feel love for each other."

"Do you...?" Sacha blushes deeply and looks very nervous. "Do you love me?"

I open my mouth for some bland comment but his eyes catch mine. I find myself reaching out to cup his chin and draw him forward for a tender kiss. "Yes, Sacha, I love you." And, I realise, I do.

It is with a lighter step I wander down to the kitchen and find Chancey in animated conversation with Mario. They are cooking up something that smells vile.

"Chancey, could you have someone make up a light breakfast and take it to my room. Bridge is not feeling well. He needs something to build up his strength but he isn't up to anything too heavy. Sacha and Star are with him and I imagine they will eat whatever you can give them."

"Star?" Chancey asks with a puzzled frown. I laugh.

"I'm sorry Chancey, I forgot. Aqua is to be known as Star from now on."

"Why?"

"Because it is his name which he demanded I return to him."

"Star?"

"Yes, apparently."

"Very well, My Lord."

"Is there anything I can do for Bridge, My Lord?" Mario asks softly. 

"I don't know. He is weak and tired. He needs to find more strength."

"Perhaps if you gave me more information, My Lord, I would be able to be more help."

I look at him sharply for a moment but his expression is anxious and he seems sincere. His glance is intense, which I realise is his way. The temptation to unburden my fears is too great and I sink into a chair with a sigh. Chancey's eyes widen as I have never done anything like this before.

"He has cancer. It is very advanced, spread throughout his body. He's had it for some time and when I found him he was days from death. He also has a number of sexually transmitted diseases and is HIV positive. I believe that he has carried internal scarring from previous violent injury too."

Both Mario and Chancey gasp. Mario looks concerned but Chancey is devastated. I smile at him reassuringly.

"None of this is a problem. I can draw it all out of him, repair the damage. It will take some days but I can make him whole again." 

Mario looks downright unbelieving and even Chancey is doubtful.

"Pardon, My Lord but in the outside world that is a death sentence."

"We are not in the outside world now Mario. As I told you, when I took him he was very close to death and now death is no longer imminent for him. However, the cancer in particular has seriously weakened him and I am afraid that he does not have the strength to keep fighting until I have cleared the sickness from his body. 

"I only need a few days... two, perhaps three and I will have turned it around and be able to concentrate on building his strength. I cannot do that now. I have limited capabilities and if I stop suppressing the cancer it will spread again more quickly than before. I cannot risk diverting my healing to increasing his strength or it will be self defeating.

"The treatments are tiring in themselves and he is finding it difficult to recover from them. I strongly dislike the fact that I have to feed from him to release the healing toxins into his blood but there is no substitute. However it means that I have to drain him and even though I feed him straight after, it weakens him. My greatest fear is that his heart will give out before he is robust enough to fight. If that happens there will be nothing I can do. My venom is distributed in the blood and if the blood stops flowing then I am helpless."

"My Lord, I hesitate to ask because I know that you have no reason to trust me, none at all but... If there is any way that I can go back into the world, just for a short time... there are things I can do to help. My grandmother was a herbalist. She had no formal training but she was the one who treated anyone in the family who was sick, and she did it well.

"She is the reason I chose to become a doctor and she has taught me most of what she knows. I was out of my depth with Taz as I had no idea what was going on, what I was dealing with, but I do know how to effectively build up strength and there also may be things that I can do should there be... problems, My Lord."

"Are you not able to tell Chancey what to get for you?"

"I'm sorry My Lord but, given a few days I might be able to teach him how to recognise the plants and where to find them but he would not be able to obtain the equipment I need."

I look at him thoughtfully. His eyes are anxious and sincere. I am pretty sure that the things he has experienced here have made him loyal and steady but he is so new.

"Go and speak with Bridge, then you may go... with Chancey accompanying you."

"My Lord. What would you have me talk to Bridge about?"

"I don't care. I just want you to talk to him."

"Why?"

"Because once you have spoken to him you will not be able to betray him."

He looks surprised but then he smiles. "Of course, My Lord."

"Meet Chancey back here when you are ready to go."

Mario bows formally and leaves. 

"What do you make of him?"

"I like him, My Lord. He is passionate and committed to helping people. He has already added a lot to my knowledge and he knows his stuff with the herbs."

"Do you trust him to come back?"

"I don't know. I couldn't guarantee it but I don't think he would betray us... still..."

"Still?"

"I have my knife My, Lord. If he tries to run I will kill him."

"That might be over reaction Chancey but... just be careful."

"For Bridge, My Lord, I will see he gets what he needs and brings it back."

"Good. Before you go there are some things I want you to arrange."

"Whatever you wish, My Lord."

"I have been giving out a considerable amount of my venom recently and I need to feed well today. I also need some relief. Of course I will take Serif while he transfuses but I need more. I was hoping that I could transfuse you and Ara together and spend some time with each other but that is not going to be possible now. Perhaps tomorrow."

Chancey smiles, his eyes alight. "I will look forward to it, My Lord."

"I have fed from everyone too much in the last few days and things are becoming complicated. I need to hunt again. Have two rooms prepared."

"Yes, My Lord."

"Good luck Chancey."

"I don't need it, My Lord."

"I don't doubt it."



Fallen Ch. 13



Serif is like a volcano. He is lying quietly on the bed but, as soon as I open the door, I feel the barely contained energy. It hits me like a wall. He is frenetic. When he hears me enter his eyes fly up to mine and there is a maelstrom behind them.

"Easy now, Serif you look as if you are about to explode."

"You know how much I hate this." He growls. I do. He hates anything that has him confined. He reacts to it with violence, either physically or mentally.

"What is there to hate? I know how much you love to feel my blood flowing in your veins."

"Not as much as I love to feel your cock in my ass."

I can't help but smile. He is so direct, uncomplicated. Sitting down on the bed beside him I stroke his body and it trembles under my fingers, not with passion but with suppressed energy. "What will you do for me, pretty boy?" I croon at him. "If I give you release, what will you do for me?"

As an answer he reaches up and grabs me by the front of my shirt, yanking me down towards him. His hand on the back of my neck holds me so tightly I can't move and his tongue rapes my mouth with such skill and intensity it literally takes my breath away. At the same time he rips off my trousers. It hurts but right now that's exactly what I need.

While still crushing me against him Serif wraps his legs around my waist with a grip of iron, lifting his body to grinds his hips against mine. His is rock hard. There is no softness in him anywhere, except for his lips, and the feeling of him against me excites me. He is almost the opposite of Bridge, practically bursting with strength. His legs around me; his thrusts against me; the passion in his kiss. I can't stand it.

Taking a slightly laboured breath I blow into him and his strength leaves him.

"What the...?"

"I'm sorry, Serif but I can't, not right now. You're too full of life; too strong." I rise myself up to look down into his face, brushing aside the thick, golden waves. He is angry and his eyes flash at me. "One day soon I will send Taz to you in the tower room. You will have your fun. You will roar and claw and find your own release... but right now I need your strength in a different way. I'm so very sorry but I need the passion in your blood to sustain me.

"I have depleted myself in the last few days and I need to replenish. I am going out to hunt and I need to give more. I don't have the time or the inclination to share the burden and so it is all yours. I need what only you can give. I don't know what it is that flows in your veins but I know that it gives me what no one else's can. And today I am going to take it. I am going to take more than you can afford to give."

As I speak I stroke his hair and chest. The passion in his eyes fades and he becomes uncertain.

"More that I can give?"

"There is a safety level that I do not exceed in my feeding, a level beyond which it becomes difficult for the body to replenish. It doesn't mean that you will die or suffer permanently detrimental effects but it will make you ill for a while. I'm sorry about that, but I need you, I need the fire in your veins."

Outrageously he chuckles and gives me a look I can't read. "Will you take me for a ride?"

"If that's what you want. It would be better for you if I didn't."

"Hel, if I'm going to be sick I would rather have some fun first."

I stroke his face and wonder at this being beneath my fingers. He is glorious. "I promise I won't hurt you. I won't drink so much that you cannot come back from it. I won't kill you, I promise."

"Go for it. Hurt me; kill me if you want, as long as you make it worth it."

I stare at him in amazement. "You mean that?"

"Of course I do. It's all about the experience. "He looks away for a moment and another of those strange unreadable looks passes across his face. "I have a past that I've never spoken of. If I live perhaps I'll share it with you one day. You're the only one here who'd really understand." There is something almost wistful in his voice and it makes me uneasy. But then his eyes snap back and he grins. "I've lived my life to squeeze every drop of juice out of it and I have to die sometime; everyone does, even you. If I have to die now then I want to do it screaming with pleasure."

"That, I can promise you. Death on the other hand I will deny you, for purely selfish reasons."

He grins at me and I lower my head to kiss him. As I release my breath slowly into him I let my hand wander down over his hot, tight body and toy with him. He is already hard. Dammit, he is excited at the thought of his own death. This boy is truly insane.

He is too relaxed to fight me when I kiss my way down his body but he shudders and laughs when I bite his nipples so hard they bleed. As I close my lips around him I slide my finger deep into him and release the smallest amount of venom deep inside. He jumps and moans. Licking his head I drip a tiny pearl of venom from the tip of my tongue into the slit and he groans deeply, clutching at the sheets. 

Sucking hard, I let my teeth graze his head and he growls, lifting his hips from the bed. Then I thrust my finger into him and force him to collapse. For a while, I alternate bringing him up and crashing him down until he is about to explode with frustration. He's loving it. Anyone else at this point would be shaking uncontrollably, semi conscious and begging for relief. Serif is still craving more.

Adjusting my position I manipulate his legs and kneel between them. The look on his face can only be described as hungry, as I penetrate him and immediately begin to thrust strongly. Gentleness is wasted on Serif. No matter what I do to him he always wants more. He's worse than Taz... or better. Digging my fingers into his hips I ride him hard and he throws his head back panting. 

Moving my hands upwards I knead his abdomen with one hand while teasing his shaft with the other. Allowing him more movement I gasp as he tilts his hips so that I penetrate deeper and starts to thrust with me, harder and harder until it is hard to know who is fucking whom. He's so damned strong.

Unconsciously, I have increased my assault on his cock and he is close before I have the focus to realise it. As soon as I do realise it, I withdraw and he growls at me with real ferocity and starts to fight. I throw myself onto him, pinning him with my body, and sink my fangs into his neck. He continues to struggle and I let him, tasting the passion and excitement in his blood.

Serif is strong, way stronger than he looks. He is slender but somewhere in that compact body there is a simmering volcano and when it erupts it is a force that sweeps him away, and anyone he is fucking, with it. He can take me to heights I have never achieved with anyone else, but I always come out of it bloodied and bruised... so does he.

I grab his balls, digging in my fingers as I massage them, making him cry out but he still pants. "More, more." And I give him more. I give him more than anyone else could take but he's still begging and thrusting into my hand. When I grab his shaft he cries out again and bucks so hard he almost throws me off. I consider the idea of calming him but the taste of his wildness is exciting me.

I drink deeper and I pump harder, although I appreciate that his struggles are weakening. He is panting harder too and I feel his release close. I have to bring him to climax now or I will miss the opportunity. Running my thumb over his head I simultaneously release pleasure enzymes into his throat and his cock. He screams as he convulses so strongly he dislodges me from his throat and half throws me off, pumping onto his chest and catching me in the face.

Looking down at his wild eyes I slowly wipe his cum off my face with my fingers and touch them to his lips. He sucks eagerly and I leave them there, letting him suckle as I sink into his neck again and drink deeply, until I am satisfied for the first time in days.

By the time I raise my head, he has stopped sucking my fingers and is barely conscious. I am surprised that he is conscious at all. His breathing is fast and shallow, his lips white and his eyes half closed. His hair is sticky and damp with the sweat that covers his whole body, which is shivering. I lay my hand on the side of his face and he manages to fully open eyes that are glazed and drugged looking.

"I will send Taz to sit with you. David can set up the transfusing equipment almost as well as Chancey and I will get him to give you more blood quickly. You'll be alright."

His lips twitch and he breathes, "Wild ride," before he passes out. I can't help but smile. Between them, Serif and Taz are dangerous. Leave them together for too long and they would shake the foundations of the world before they killed each other.

I find David and then call in to check on Bridge before I leave. He looks a lot better. He, Star and Sacha are playing a board game in the sitting room and I hear their laughter before I open the door. He still looks pale and tired but when he sees me he runs into my arms and hugs me.

"I missed you."

"I was only away for a little while."

"I know you were but I still missed you. Come and play. Star always wins. We can play in teams and then we'll beat them."

I laugh and rub my cheek on the burnished gold of his hair. "I'm sorry Bridge but I can't right now. I have to go somewhere. I will be back before dinner tonight. I am sure that Star and Sacha can keep you entertained until I get back." He looks up at me disappointed but still content. 

"I know they will. They're not you, but they'll do." 

"Hey." Star says with mock severity, coming up behind and wrapping him in his arms biting his neck. "See, if you like biting I can do it too."

Bridge yelps and giggles. "It doesn't feel so good from you but, as a sloppy second you'll do well enough.

"Cheeky pup," he growls and swings Bridge around, away from me and into Sacha's arms. Sacha sweeps him up and carries him kicking and giggling into the bedroom.

"Make sure he has a good lunch." I say softly to Star who is watching me thoughtfully.

"You love him don't you?"

"Yes. Does that surprise you?"

"Yes."

"You care about him too."

"Yes. Does that surprise you?"

I find myself smiling broadly and, before I know what I am doing, I pull him into my arms and kiss him. I don't think, I don't consider the results, I am pulled into his eyes and I have no choice.

For a moment he relaxes, his arms wrapping around me, his lips parting... but then he stiffens and thrusts me away with almost as much strength as Serif.

"Another promise broken," he hisses. 

I am truly confused. "What promise?"

His eyes are snapping azure fire. "You promised you wouldn't hurt me and you almost killed me. You promised you wouldn't touch me unless I asked it. What's next? Will you tear out my throat? Rape me? Beat me? Drain me?"

"No. No I would never do any of those things. You may not believe this but I love you. I love you more than you could begin to imagine. I would never hurt you, never. All I want..." I stop and take a breath. "I'm sorry. I'm truly sorry but you are so beautiful and it was the first time you looked at me and didn't hate me. I couldn't... I couldn't resist."

"Well I hope you do better at resisting from now on because you do that to me again and I will do my very best to tear out your throat."

"I'm sorry Star. I truly am. Don't let this spoil things between us, just when they were starting to thaw."

"Spoil things between us? There is nothing between us. I'm your prisoner and you're my captor. I hate you and I'll always hate you. Leave me alone."

He turns on his heels and stalks away, slamming the door of the bedroom behind him. Hel, he's glorious. Smiling, I turn and leave the room.



Fallen Ch. 14



It is a glorious day and for once I appreciate it. The sun is warm on my face and I tilt it upwards to get the most of the rays. My skin tans well but I still have to be careful of burning. I am not attractive when my nose peels.

It is a pleasant walk through my grounds to the front gate. Until it opens all that it is possible to see through it is a swirling white mist. You have to know what to type into the panel at the side and you also have to be recognised by the DNA scanner before it will open anywhere, and it can open anywhere.

I press my hand against a panel which slides open. A fine needle projects from the bottom of the small chamber revealed behind it. I prick my finger on the needle leaving a tiny drop of blood. The panel slides back and glows yellow for a few moments before it turns green. I then type a code into the numerical keyboard and the mist swirls. The gate swings open and I step out into the world. 

As my summerhouse exists in many places at once, so does my house. The summerhouse is one gate into the worlds beyond and this is another. The only difference is that while the summerhouse can take me to many worlds, this one can only take me to one. However, within this one world I can step out into anywhere I choose. Today I choose to take a slight detour. As I cross the bridge I find myself walking along an alley into a pleasant suburban street. I pause for a moment to orient and then set off again along the road to a pleasant suburban house, with a neat front garden.

There is no hesitancy in my step as I walk up the path to the front door and knock.

The door is opened a few minutes later by a middle aged man. He is a handsome man with neatly styled dark blonde hair and green eyes. He is dressed conservatively in dark slacks and a shirt and he has a pleasant if non committal smile on his face. He could be anyone. 

"Can I help you?" he asks in a nondescript voice. 

"I think so. I would like to talk to you about your son."

The man's eyes widen and the pleasant expression on his face falls away. "I don't know who you are," he says, "and frankly I don't give a damn. Whatever game you're trying to play forget it. Trust me, I am not a man you want to cross. I have no son. Now turn around and walk away." 

"I am not playing a game. In fact I am deadly serious. I know you have a son; I have spoken to him, and that is why I have come to speak to you."

"I don't know what that little bastard has been saying about me," he hisses, "but I swear that if you say one word, just one word I will have you arrested for harassment."

"I have no intention of harassing you. I just have one question to ask you and then I will be on my way."

He gives me a suspicious look but relaxes his guard just a little. "What question?"

"It's a little sensitive so it might be better if we discuss it inside."

"Anything you have to say can be said here, and you're lucky I'm not slamming the door in your face."

"Very well. All I want is a name and address. Just one name and one address."

Now he looks confused. "I don't understand."

"I'd like to pay a visit to a doctor."

He narrows his eyes and peers at me, even more confused. "I don't think I can help you with that."

"Oh, I think you can. You see I don't want to visit just any doctor. I want to see a doctor who likes to fuck young boys and who isn't averse to carrying out butchery on the kitchen table."

For a moment he just stares at me, shocked by the venom in my voice, and then his face turns purple and he takes a step back. "I don't know what that fucking piece of crap has been telling you but I warn you -- get the hell out of here right now or I am going to call the police."

"Go ahead, and what are you going to tell them when they come and ask where your son is? Are you going to deny his existence to them too?"

"He ran away. That's not my fault."

"Did you report him missing?"

"No I... Just fuck off. Get out of here: right now."

"I don't think so." I reach out my hand just as he is about to close the door in my face, and touch his hand. Immediately he freezes and his hands fall to his sides. Gently I steer him backwards and slip inside, closing the door behind me. "A name please." I repeat softly.

Shocked he shakes his head and takes another step backwards. I smile at him and let my fangs descend. He groans but can't run because I am holding his hand and paralysing him. "Please... don't hurt me."

"Did your son say that? Did he beg you when the filth that you invited into your home... at a price, were beating and fucking him? Did he cry in your arms when he was ill and hurt, and beg you to take his pain away? Did you hear him cry out when he was being abused... 'Please... please don't hurt me'? Did you hear that? Did you? Did you?" As I speak I feel my temper rise and I slam him against the wall.

"I..."

"Did you?"

"Yes... yes I did."

"Then why did you stand back and do nothing? Why did you let your son suffer like that? Why did you let them hurt him?"

He shakes his head. "Is he dead?"

"No, he's not dead. He's being taken care of."

"He is dying you know. Even before he ran away, he was ill. I thought he would have been dead by now." He sounds terribly sad and for a moment I have compassion for him. Maybe he does love Bridge after all. Maybe he regrets. Maybe he... but he let those terrible things happen to him, he made him suffer, he made him bleed... he HURT Bridge.

"I know. I know everything. I know what happened, I know what you did to him and I know the price he's had to pay. And now I am going to pay it back for him."

The man stares at me with terror in his eyes and then something snaps behind his eyes and he slumps. 

"You're right. I let it happen; I let it all happen. I was his father and I should have protected him. I should have taken care of him but all I did was hurt him. I know it made him ill, that it was my fault he was so hurt. I thought... I hoped... I hoped that he would come back so that I could look after him... at the end."

"There will be no end, not for him. I am taking care of him now and he is going to be just fine."

"He... he's going to live?"

"Yes, he is going to live and he's going to be well and he is going to be safe and happy."

"But he... how? He was too ill. He couldn't have..."I slowly and deliberately smile showing him my fangs. "Oh... I see."

"No, you don't see but you are beginning to get the message. Now I want that name. That's all I want. I want to find that bastard and have a little chat about how it isn't nice to do what he has been doing and make sure that he doesn't do it to anyone else."

"I... I can't..."

"I think you can."

"He...he'll kill me. He's a powerful man."

"Trust me... he's not as powerful as I am; and I really don't think you have to worry about him killing you." He looks into my eyes and sees the truth there. For a moment he looks frightened but then he nods, resigned.

"His name is Richard Pfanning. He lives on the other side of the river, a house called Brierwood, near the church."

"I will find it."

He nods, knowing what is going to happen next and accepting his fate. "Will you tell him something for me?"

"What?" I hadn't expected this. I was expecting him to fight, to curse, to plead. This calm acceptance is disconcerting.

"Will you give Mark a message from me?" 

Mark? So that's Bridge's real name. I like Bridge better. "It depends on what it is."

"Tell him I'm sorry... and that I love him. I always loved him."

I have to laugh at that, I can't help it. "Loved him? You never loved him. I love him. I will take care of him and I will kill anyone who hurts him or tries to hurt him. That's why I'm here."

"It's no more than I deserve," he says and bows his head, baring his throat to me. "But," he adds as I sink my fangs into his neck, "I do love him, I always have." He says no more. I drink a little from him and am surprised that underneath it all his blood is not that of an evil man. Nevertheless it does not please me to take too much and I will not drain him. Instead I pin him to the wall with my body and pump my venom into him, sinking him deeper and deeper until his heart slows and then stops. Then, without a second glance I walk out of the house and dismiss him from my attention.

Brierwood is a big house, set back from the road in its own grounds. There is a locked gate but such things are no problem for me. There is no door or gate anywhere that can keep me out.

The door is opened by a woman in a neat suit. I assume that it is staff rather than family. I ask politely for Dr Pfanning and reply to the polite enquiry that I wished to speak to him to a former patient who is now in my care. With no further question I am invited into a spacious lounge and asked to wait.

I sit and smile. Of course I have not been playing fair. Bridge's father I dealt with straight because I wanted to watch him suffer and, to some degree I wanted to see emotion in him; I wanted fear and pain, I wanted revenge. However, here I have no such desire, not for any of them and so I use unashamed mental manipulation to persuade the employee to run off and fetch her master without having any real idea of who I am or what I want.

Dr Pfanning is a surprise. He is young, tanned and handsome. I wonder why a man such as this needs to pay for sex.

"Can I help you?" he asks smoothly after shaking my hand

"I'm sure you can," I respond with equal smoothness. "Can we speak somewhere more private?"

He gives me a look that clearly wonders what someone as young as I seem to be wants to talk to him about regarding a previous patient. I watch a flash of fear shoot through his eyes and disappear. He dismisses it. No matter, it will return soon enough.

He shows me into his study and motions for me to sit but I decline.

"I understand you wished to speak to me about a former patient who is now in your care. May I ask in what capacity?"

"Love."

"I beg your pardon?"

"I am caring for him because I love him."

"I...see. Perhaps you would like to give me his name and I will see what I can find in my files, although you will appreciate that any private information will be confidential and I will not be able to reveal it to you."

"Oh, don't worry. I don't want any information from you. I said that I wanted to talk to you about him, not that I wanted anything from you."

He looks confused. "I don't understand."

"Neither did he."

"Excuse me."

"He didn't understand. He never understood why he was used and abused the way he was, or why his father betrayed him as he did. Why men like you hurt him when all he wanted was to please. Did you enjoy it? Do you like fucking children? Not that he was a child, not as such... he was sixteen right? Or thereabouts. So it didn't matter did it? And what about when you drugged him and cut into him to repair the damage some other fucker just like you did to him? I'm sure you didn't enjoy that but it must have given you such a feeling of self righteousness... to be patching up the little whore."

"I don't know what you're talking about," he says coldly, "and I think it would be better if you leave now."

"Better for whom? For you? Sorry, I don't give a fuck about you."

"What do you want? Money? You'll never prove any of it."

"I don't want to prove it because I know it's true and there is no else I care to prove it to. I don't want money, I don't want explanation and I'm sure as Hel I don't want an apology, which I suspect you would never give in any event. I have been ruthless and cruel. I have been cold and heartless and I have killed for pleasure more than once. I understand you and that's why I have nothing to ask of you, nothing at all."

The good doctor glowers at me and tries to intimidate me with his greater stature. He thinks I'm a boy. I can't help but laugh in his face.

"I am not a helpless boy Dr Pfanning. I am not half dead with illness and pain. I am not what I seem at all. More than anything I am not for sale."

"What do you want?"

"You, Dr Pfanning; that's all, just you."

"I don't..."

"You hurt the man I love. You took advantage of him. You abused him and debased him and butchered him. Worse of all you knew. You knew how ill he was. There was no way you could not have. You did tests, you knew about the STD's and you had to have known about the cancer too... but you did nothing to help him."

"What would you expect me to do? He was a whore."

"He was a boy; a hurt, confused and desperately ill boy... and you doomed him."

"My heart weeps. I doubt that anyone else will. One less diseased whore in the world is no loss to anyone."

"It would be a loss to me."

He gives me a look that says 'who the fuck are you?' and turns away. He barely gasps when my hands slide around his throat and he collapses. I am blindingly angry. Bridge's father was pathetic but this... this animal is in no way sorry for what he's done. He looked at me with such disgust on his face when he spoke of Bridge... he doesn't deserve to walk the same earth... and so he won't.

I look down at him, at his shocked eyes, his immaculate hair, his pristine shirt collar. "You are nothing compared to him. You almost destroyed him but he is too strong. You don't deserve ever to have breathed the same air as him. The thought of your hands on his body, what you did to him...Think of this in your last moment. He didn't die. He won't die. He will live on, long after your body is cold and buried deep in your grave. You didn't deserve him and he for sure did not deserve you.

And then I take care of him. It is messy and brutal and I enjoy it enormously. Afterwards I let myself out of the house and simply walk away.

Bridge will never know what I have done; he doesn't need to. He would forgive... has forgiven. He is better than me. I was getting soft; I am getting soft, but it's nice to know I haven't lost my edge completely. A good morning's work I think. And now on to my next item of business.



Fallen Ch. 15



I go back to my house, it's easier that way, and step out again in a place on the outskirts of London. I walk across the bridge to the edge of an abandoned industrial estate with dilapidated warehouses watching the world darkly through smashed windows, and a rubble filled courtyard.

A few straggly dogs sniff amongst the rubble and run yelping from my scent. I sense humans close. This is a place where I know the hopeless gather... the homeless, the drug addicts, the abused: perfect for my purposes. I am tired of fighting with my new pets, it is so much easier to take and train those with no fight left in them. There is a part of me that is drawn here because of Bridge, because these people are like him. I smile at that thought. No one is like him, no one.

Feeling angry with the world I stalk across the courtyard climbing over rubble, skirting the larger mounds. Dog faeces and rat urine provide a pungent background to the visual decay. It is the perfect foil for my current mood.

Approaching a building that is a little less dilapidated than the rest I sense life within. I crack open the door, which is reasonably intact, and slip into the darkness beyond. On the far side, about as far away as it's possible to get from where I am, someone has lit a fire, in a rough fireplace built from the stones and rubble. 

The light from the fire casts eerie shadows on the walls and floor. The whole place is darkened by the years of accumulated grime on the windows and it smells only a little better than outside.

Grouped around the fire are a number of rough bed spaces. It is impossible to see from here what they comprise of. They are only visible as long mounds radiating outwards from the fire like the spokes of a wheel. From what I can sense, none of the mounds are currently occupied. 

I can feel and vaguely see a couple of indistinct figures around the fire but they are not what I am interested in. There is someone else, more than one person, together. They are cold and hopeless, on the point of giving up on life but there is something between them that interests me.

Across the space in front of me there is a metal staircase to an upper floor. Here and there across the room it is clear that the floor above has collapsed, leaving gaping holes in the ceiling. Carefully and silently I climb.

Upstairs, it is even darker than downstairs and it is colder. There is no light, no shadows, no life. Except that there is.

Even with my unusually sensitive eyes it is not easy to make them out but, as I acclimatise to the darkness, I see them. They are huddled against the wall; one sitting upright and the other lying across his legs, his head cradled in his friend's arms.

I approach slowly so as not to startle them but, when the upright one looks up at me, his eyes are dull and dead. Nothing would startle them now. There is nothing that can come which is worse than the hell they are living. Even death would be a welcome visitor here. From the feel of it he is already knocking on the door.

I crouch in front of them and he tightens his arms around his friend, who doesn't stir. Slowly and gently I reach out and touch the sleeping boy, brushing his hair away from his face. Even thick with grime it is beautiful. I smile inwardly. My instinct has led me right again. When he is clean he will hold his own with any of my boys.

Looking down into his face and then up at the other another realisation comes to me. "Your brother?" I ask softly, knowing the answer without needing it to be given, which is just as well as the boy says nothing, simply stares emotionlessly.

I gently brush my fingers against the boy's throat. His life force is weak but he is in no danger of imminent death. Another day perhaps, but for the moment it is safe to concentrate on his brother. There is a hint of hostility in his eyes now. They are coming to life. A threat to himself he would accept; a threat to his brother he will fight with the last ounce of his strength, which is not far away. He is running on empty.

"I can help him. I can help you both."

"He's dying," he says flatly.

"Yes. If you stay here he will die; you both will." He nods silently. "Is that what you want?"

There is a spark in his eyes again but then it dies and he shrugs.

"What if I can offer you a chance to live?"

He blinks curiously at me, a guarded hope flaring somewhere in his eyes.

"Why?"

"Because I can."

"What do you want from us?"

"Does it matter?"

He stares at me with the same look that was in Bridge's eyes when I first looked into them. And then he shakes his head and lowers his eyes.

"Will you come with me?"

"Are you going to kill us?"

"No. I swear to you that I am not going to hurt you."

"Will you save him? Will you take care of him?"

"I'll take care of you both, I promise."

I raise his face with a finger under his chin and look into his eyes. There are tracks in the grime on his cheeks where he has wept bitter, hopeless tears and I brush them gently with my thumb.

"Stand up."

"But what about...?"

"I'll take care of him in a moment."

"You won't make me leave him?"

"No, I won't separate you."

Very, very gently he lays his brother down on the dusty floor. A strange look passes through his eyes and he screws them shut, a look of pain crossing his face. "He hasn't eaten in days," he says softly and huskily. "Yesterday he went to sleep and today he won't wake up." He opens his eyes and strokes his brother's face, with a look that is way more than familial. Perhaps I should start with the other one after all.

"What would you give to see him strong again?"

He gives me a quick, hard look. "You could do that?"

"What would you give me if I did?"

"Anything. I would give you anything."

"Would you give your life?"

He winces and bites his lip but, after another glance at his unconscious brother, he nods sharply. "I'm not going to ask that of you. What I am going to ask is that you accept whatever I do to him; that you don't interfere and, when I am done, you let me do the same to you."

"I..."

"I will walk away from you if you want to. I will not force you into anything, but you know as well as I do that that your brother is in a coma. Maybe today, maybe tomorrow, maybe the next day he will die, and when he's gone; when you've held him through the end you will lie down next to him and follow. 

"It's what you've done all your lives, taken care of him. It's why you gave him the last of the food, why you haven't given up yet, so he won't die alone. He's not just your brother is he?"

His eyes widen and glisten with tears. "I..." His resolve collapses and all the fight goes out of him. "I don't suppose it matters now. We're lovers."

"That's why you ran away?" He nods.

Spontaneously I take him into my arms. He feels weak, but not fragile, not like Bridge was. He hasn't had time to get skinny and he isn't ravaged by disease. He's still strong and the smell of his blood is rich and spicy. He has so much spirit, a stubborn determination that has allowed him to go on no matter what, to be the strong one.

"It's alright now. You can be together somewhere safe. Where I will take you, there are no limits or labels on love. All I ask is that you give me what I am about to take, whenever I ask it. For that you will be well fed, housed in safety and comfort and allowed to be together in the way you want."

"You won't hurt him?"

"I won't hurt either of you."

He pulls away with more strength than I would have thought possible. Biting his lip, he nods, although I can feel his heart beating fast and hard. Raising him to his feet I move him a few feet away and tell him to stay there.

"Whatever happens, whatever you see, do not move from here or I will kill him, I will kill both of you. Do you understand?"

"I understand."

"No... you don't and you don't need to, not now... you just need to trust me and to stay out of the way."

"Yes."

Leaving him leaning against the wall I dismiss him from my attention, knowing that he will do as I say. Kneeling beside the other boy I lay him out flat on the floor and loosen his clothing. It reveals a body that has not yet been touched by the ravishes of malnutrition. The clothes they wear are good quality too. They have come from a privileged background. They have not been on the streets for long, which accounts for how quickly the streets have consumed them. 

Brushing the tangled hair out of his face I see a mirror to the one I looked into only moments ago. Leaning down I inhale his scent. It is the same as his brother's; not just similar, the same. Twins. I have never had twins before. In sleep, without the hopeless resignation which emanates from his brother he is even more beautiful. 

Gently I touch his cheek but he doesn't stir. He is deep but I can find him and bring him back. Sliding one arm under his shoulders I raise them and balance him against my shoulder. He is like a rag doll. If I were human it might have been difficult to hold him but I am stronger than any human I have ever encountered by far and for me it is no trouble at all.

Allowing his head to loll to the side I brush the hair away from his neck and lower my face, breathing in the sweet, spicy scent of him. He doesn't stir when I sink my fangs into his jugular vein but the blood that flows into my mouth is clean and free from disease. His condition is due solely to exhaustion and lack of food. He will not be difficult to revive.

As I drink I concentrate on pouring energy into him. Not having to work on any sickness in his blood, I can simply let healing energy flow into him from my fangs. Within a few moments he shudders and stirs in my arms. A soft sigh escapes his lips. Gently I stroke the other side of his throat and release pleasure enzymes which make him shudder again and he moans.

Slowly I run my hands over his body and he responds instantly. Good. This one will be easy. Carefully managing the flow so that I don't drain him too much; I will be supplementing my needs with his brother shortly anyway; I let my hand stroke lower and lower until my fingers reach his flaccid penis which twitches under them. Gently stroking along its length with the tips of my fingers I feel it come alive.

The blood that suffuses me is vibrant with a lust for life that lies dormant under the surface. As I caress and squeeze his balls the life begins to return, evident in his moans and the way his body is coming to life under my hands. He raises his head and rolls it backwards, arching his back and raising his hips. His breathing quickens as I grasp him firmly and begin to increase the speed of my strokes and firmness of my grip. 

His moans increase and he half raises himself out of my arms. I withdraw my fangs and lay him back down flat, kissing him on the lips and breathing energy into him. His body writhes and little whimpers and moans slip from his lips.

"Ssh now. You're alright now. Just relax and enjoy the ride." I stroke the side of his face then raise my head as I become aware of an audience." He is kneeling next to me, on the other side of his brother's body and he is breathing hard.

"I told you not to interfere." I hiss, baring my fangs. His eyes are wild and wide, his lips parted and nostrils flared. I smile. Not interfering then. They really are close these twins, the arousal of his bother has aroused him without me even having to touch him. He doesn't respond to my words but when I let go of his brother his eyes widen and after a brief nod from me he bends forward and takes him into his mouth. 

I continue the kiss and knead his abdomen, releasing some of my venom into his skin that makes him moan more deeply and shudder violently. His breathing increases as he rises and when I feel the climax imminent I sink into him again and taste the power of unleashed energy that flows through not only me but him also.

When I raise my head he is panting and shivering but his eyes are open and aware.

"Sam what... what's happening." I don't blame him for being confused.

"It's alright Alex. We're going to be alright now. Just rest, I have something to do. It's going to be alright. Don't worry about me. I trust him. He saved you."

Alex's eyes turn to me and, now they are alive again I can see the passion in him. He is very different from his brother and yet... Gently cupping his cheek I brush his pulse point and he sinks softly into oblivion.

"What happened? What's wrong with him?"

"He's asleep, Sam. When I am ready he will wake and we can go home."

"Home?"

"Yes."

He looks at me, biting his lip. He looks down at Alex who is breathing gently, his face flushed and smiling. "Do what you want to me."

"You know what I want from you."

He looks up and meets my eyes. Then he nods.

Slowly I raise him to his feet and draw him to me. Carefully I back him against the wall and kiss him. He responds eagerly and it makes me smile to myself. He is going to be perfect, they both are. The boys are going to love them. I make a mental note to keep them away from Serif and Taz.

"Sam," I whisper as I lean his head back against the wall to kiss his throat, letting venom seep into his blood stream relaxing him and sending euphoria through his body. He moans and relaxes, his breathing quickening. "You are beautiful, Sam."

Sam whimpers as I slide my hand down over his belly which is hot and tight and take him into my hand. He is already hard and I decide on the spur of the moment to give him a real ride, a taste of what is to come. Running my thumb over the head I send pulses of pleasure into his cock. With a choked cry his legs give way and he collapses.

Going down with him I cover his lips with my own and breathe gentle relaxation into him while at the same time I continue with the pulses of pleasure. He arches so far off the floor I hear his bones creak. He makes no complaint or effort to stop me when I remove his trousers indeed he is desperate, kicking them off.

Still kissing him, once he is entirely free I run my hand down over his balls and find his entrance. He moans softly and presses against my finger. I can tell he isn't a virgin by the way he reacts, the way he relaxes instead of tenses. 

Continuing with my gentle massage and deep kiss that detaches his mind and sets it free of his body I climb between his legs and bend them at the knee. Sitting up I take him in one hand sending the pulses of intense sensation into him again while I penetrate him with a finger. He is barely aware of precisely what is happening with his body and the waves of sensation washing over him make it highly likely that he wouldn't feel pain if I cut off a leg.

When I help him up onto his hands and knees he is so out of it he doesn't know what he is doing or what he is supposed to do. I carefully manoeuvre him and steady him with one arm around his chest as I enter him. He moans and pushes back against me. I let go of him and put my hands on his hips and let us fall into a gentle rhythm. 

When he is stable and I bend forward and reach around him to take him into my hand again stroking in time with my thrusts. After only a few moments the sensations become too much for him and he collapses. Rolling him onto his side I spoon him, keeping my hand on his cock and my strokes steady. He leans his head back and I nuzzle his neck. He is so high he has no control of his body which is shaking violently. I remember that he is weak too, for all his apparent vigour and fight. That's why he collapsed so quickly. Burying my face in his soft hair I find his throat and bite.

He tenses for a moment with a gasp but relaxes quickly giving in to the sensations that are pulsing through him. It isn't long after that before he peaks and pumps forcefully. The taste of his high is different to that of his brother. It's strange how someone's personality can be read in their blood. Alex is the gentler of the two, quiet, shy and sensitive. Sam is the one who forges ahead leading the way, the protector and defender.

I drink deeper from him as he is stronger but I provide him with energy too so that when I am done and withdraw he is invigorated and not drained.

I roll away from him and get to my feet, dusting myself off. Sam remains where he is, curled up on the floor. I worry for a moment that he is hurt but when I crouch beside him I can see that he is not.

"What's wrong?" I ask softly, brushing his hair back. He doesn't flinch or pull away but he is tense and shaking. It takes a while to realise that he is crying. "Sam?"

He turns, rolling over onto his back. His face is screwed up and he is weeping. I put my arms around him and draw him up to rest against my shoulder. I stroke his hair and back and rock him gently.

"It's alright, Sam. Everything is going to be alright. I am going to take care of you now, both of you."

Sam sobs harder and I just hold him until he takes a deep shuddering breath and sits up. "I... I'm sorry. I... you've done so much. You... you saved Alex and... and I thought he was... But I... I feel... I feel..." He screws his face up and hangs his head. "The reason... the reason we were here... that he was..." He shakes his head. "I could have saved him myself. I could have got money to feed us but... but I couldn't. I couldn't bear to... and now I have. Now, I'm a whore."

I take him by the shoulders and shake him. "You are not a whore. Whatever else I might be I am not a pimp and you are not a whore. You are not going to be expected to sleep with anyone but me and then only when we need to. You will be taken care of and so will your brother. You are not a whore and I don't ever want you to say or even think that again."

"But..."

I reach out and lay my hand against his cheek. He looks at me with heavy eyes. "You are beautiful and so is he. I will make sure that you can be together, that you can be what you want to be, what you were meant to be. No one will condemn you, no one will look down on you, no one will censure you. You will have your own room, whatever food you need, companionship, even a doctor when you need one. I will give you health and strength and a long, long life."

"And you'll drink our blood."

"Yes, but I will give you pleasure when I do it and I will give you mine in return. My blood will keep you young and strong forever if that's what you want."

He looks up at me. "I am a whore. I'm a whore who gets paid in blood."

I take his face between both of my hands. "Do not think like that, Sam. The life I am taking you to is so very different to the one you have led before. There is nothing to compare it to. In this world perhaps you might think of yourself in that way but in mine... You'll see, Sam. Very soon you'll see, but I swear to you that you will not be a whore."

"I..."

"I swear to you, Sam. It will be alright."

"I don't have much choice do I?"

"There are always choices, Sam. If you want you can walk away right now, both of you. I won't come after you, I won't hunt you down, I will just walk away."

For a moment his eyes flare with wild hope, but then he thinks for a moment and shakes his head. "There's nowhere to go, nowhere here we can be together. We'd always have to hide and eventually someone would find out again and we'd be back here or worse. I don't want to see Alex hurt anymore. He's so open and loving, it's killing him. It's been killing him from the start. There are no more choices for us."

"There are always choices."

"Alright. I choose to come with you."

I smile and nod. Even though I knew what the choice would be I had to give him options. Wait. Since when? Since when did I start giving options? Since Bridge. I smile.

"Come on. It's cold here. Let's get you somewhere warm. I bet you would kill for a hot bath right about now."

He stares at me. "But... I mean... we have nothing."




Fallen Ch. 15



"You do now. You have a home, a family, food, shelter, clothes... whatever you need."

"But I... I couldn't..."

"You don't need to." I help him to his feet and he hastily pulls on his trousers. While he is doing it I turn my back to allow him his dignity. Again... when did I care about the dignity of a pet? That would be Astaria.

Crouching beside Alex, I gently rouse him and help him to his feet. He is shaky and confused but when Sam takes him in his arms he smiles.

"We're going to be alright now, Alex. We're going to have a home, somewhere warm, somewhere we can be ourselves, be with each other."

"Can we trust him?"

"Can we afford not to? I almost lost you, Alex. I couldn't take care of you. I sat here waiting for you to die so I could follow. I watched you fall asleep, knowing you wouldn't wake up and this morning when... when I couldn't wake you, I... I gave up." He wipes his hand across his eyes. "I failed you. He saved you. He saved us both. We have to go with him. We're out of options."

"I told you, Sam," I say softly, "there are always options."

"Not for us. Not anymore."

Carefully, Alex turns towards me, staring into my eyes. I realise they are green, not as green as Bridge's but moss green, like a forest floor. He takes a step forward and reaches out to touch me.

"I remember. I remember you coming to me. I know what you are. I know what you did but... I think... I think I was close to death and a voice spoke to me. She said that I should come back so that I could help you. She said that if you keep letting Star run away, he won't ever stop, that you shouldn't keep running after him, just make him stop. He's part of her soul, after all, and he won't fight too hard. That's what she said... oh and that we should trust you."

I can't drag my eyes away from him. I can't move. I can't breathe. I actually take a step back as the red light flares in his pupils for a brief instant, and then it is gone.

"Are you alright? Did I say the wrong thing?"

"No... no you didn't. You said exactly the right thing."

I smile and reach out my hands. Sam gives Alex an uncertain glance but when Alex willingly takes my hand he takes a deep breath and follows.

They are as surprised as all the others when we cross the bridge and find ourselves in a different world. They are all eyes, staring around them in wonder. When we approach the house they both stop dead. 

"What's wrong?"

"It...it's huge and it looks..."

"It's home, Alex. It's your home now. It isn't a prison, or a museum, or a hostel or a hotel. It's your home. Don't be afraid. Don't ever be afraid."



Fallen Ch. 16



Taking a deep breath they both follow me the rest of the way. I find that Chancey has returned. He's in the kitchen. He looks up when we enter and glares at me.

"Remind me never to leave the grounds again."

"Was Mario that much of a handful?"

"Mario was exactly what he said he'd be. He taught me the herbs to look for and left me to gather them, while he went to get some stuff. He came back with a big bag and then we came home. We were only gone a couple of hours. It's you that's the handful."

"Really?" I raise my eyebrow and he bows his head.

"I'm sorry, My Lord. It has been a somewhat difficult day. I came back to find Serif almost dead, Taz spinning out of control and Sacha going demented trying to find 'something special' for Bridge's lunch. He's a dreadful cook and he'd made such a mess of the kitchen. If it hadn't been that it was for Bridge I would have hit him over the head with a frying pan."

"How is Bridge?" It's crazy how the sound of his name makes my heart jump.

"I don't know. I haven't had the chance to go up. I think he's okay, Sacha was smiling."

"And Serif?"

Chancey frowns. "I don't know, My Lord. David did a good job and he's very strong but..."

"But?"

"He was very close to the edge when I last saw him. Mario was doing something with him. He seemed confident but Mario is confident about everything." 

I smile. "Yes, he is."

I turn to my new acquisitions. "This is Chancey. He is the one who makes the house run smoothly. He is your brother but he is also your master. If he is unfair or cruel to you let me know but I would be beyond surprised if he was. He can be a pain sometimes but it's only because he has a huge task on his hands running this place and he wants to do it well.

"You will not be expected to do any work around the house, as we have a staff for that. In the beginning, at least, you will concentrate on getting yourselves fit and well and then we will see where you niches lie. Chancey will instruct you on the rules and routines of the house. He will introduce you to the others. If you have any questions then direct them to him and he will answer."

I smile at the boys who, now that they are here seem very uncertain and lost. They all do. "Chancey, this is Sam and Alex. Now they will be Yin and Yang. They are twins and fit together perfectly. The one exists within the other and they are only complete when they are together. These are perfect names for their new life."

"Indeed, My Lord." Chancey says brightly, smiling at the twins. "Come on then, let's get you cleaned up and see what's under all that grime.

"I'll leave you with Chancey. I'll see you again in the morning. Ten o'clock Chancey, okay?"

"Of course, My Lord."

"Do you need to replenish your supplies?"

"Not just at the moment but, unless you want to do it as intensely as last time, we are going to have to start taking a little every day again quite soon."

"Speak to me about it again tomorrow."

"Yes, My Lord."

When I leave the kitchen I go straight to the transfusion suite. I hear voices as I pause outside the door. When I open, it I find Taz sitting on the bed with his back against the wall, holding Serif in his arms, resting his head on the bright gold hair. Serif has his eyes closed but his cheeks are pink and he looks much stronger than he was when I left him.

They are speaking softly to each other and I am utterly shocked. I have never seen them so gentle and tender with anyone, let alone each other. What on earth is going on in this house?

"Are you feeling better?"

Serif opens his eyes and smiles his angelic smile. "Much better thank you, My Lord."

"No thanks to you," Taz snaps and I take a mental step back. "When I first came I thought he was dead. You took too much."

"I know."

"Taz," Serif scolds, "My Lord told me what he was going to do and it was..." He flashes a look at me that makes me gasp. "It was my pleasure."

"But..."

"Tell me again what you told me after what happened to you."

Taz colours. "That was different. That was an accident."

"But it was a wild ride." He tilts his head to look up at Taz and, after only a few moments of their eyes locking, Taz relents. 

"I'm sorry, My Lord. I was..."

"I know you were, Taz. I promise I will never do anything like that again."

"Spoilsport," Serif teases and Taz punches him, none to gently.

"I am glad you're alright. I'll call in and see you again tomorrow. It would probably better if you transfused again then just to make sure."

Serif laughs. "I have enough of your blood in my veins already to make me want to bite, and Taz won't let me. He says I'm not up to it but as soon as you leave I'm going to show him that I am."

Smiling, I shake my head. "Very well, but if you insist, perhaps you will take him back to your room, the walls are far too thin here. I think that one of you would probably go through."

They look at each other with a glint in their eyes and I retreat hurriedly.

When I enter my apartment, I hear the laughter from the bedroom straight away. I recognise Bridge's light chuckle and I would know Star's from a mile away. I am so tuned in to him I can feel him wherever he is in the house. There are others in there too.  

When I open the door I am surprised to find half the house here. Star and Sacha, of course and Mario who I expected to be here, and also Ara, David and Pen. 

"Who decided to have a party and not invite me?"

Bridge, who is sitting cross legged on the bed, flings himself into my arms and I am instantly filled with sweetness. Oh what fortuitous chance led me to find this angel?

"I missed you," he says softly, looking into my eyes. I look into his and see stars. I have become accustomed to thinking of Bridge as small, but he is almost as tall as I am, as tall as anyone in the house. He is very slender, though. I could almost put my hands around his waist, and his wrists look as if they would snap if I held them too hard.

Somehow, he has managed to keep himself well fed and the slenderness is genetic rather than due to malnutrition, although his illness has hollowed him. Since the treatments began he has started to pick up condition again and I can only hope that it's enough to see him through. 

He looks very, very tired. I take his face in my hand and look into the beautiful emerald eyes. There are shadows there.

"You should be resting and not having a party."

"I was resting," he says indignantly. "I was just resting with company."

"Yes. It looks like it. I think David and Pen have other things to do and Chancey is looking for you Ara, we have two new friends to take care of."

"Yes, My Lord," they murmur but they all have twinkles in their eyes.

"I'd say you behave like my father," Bridge says lightly as he throws himself onto the bed, "but he never cared that much." It's a good thing he can't see my eyes right now.

Mario catches my eye but speaks to Bridge. "I have to go. I have some things I need to talk over with Chancey about what we did today. You make sure to drink all of the tea I made for you."

"It's horrible." Bridge wrinkles his nose.

"No it isn't, it's sweetened with honey." His voice and face soften considerably. "It's going to help you get strong, Bridge and that's all that any of us wants."

Bridge bites his lip and nods, reaching for the cup.

I follow Mario into the sitting room. "Thank you," I say awkwardly. This respect thing still doesn't come easily to me.

"The tea will help but it will take time. There is nothing that can do miracles, not like you can. It all takes time. Is there no way you can boost his energy."

I shake my head. "Don't think that it hasn't been on my mind since the start, but I have to keep attacking the cancer. I can't do both: I can't take and give. If I am drawing sickness out I can't put energy in; it doesn't work that way. And I can't stop drawing the cancer out. It is all through him, everywhere. It is so close to killing him I can't risk one day. Even now, his body is struggling to fight it, that's what saps his energy so quickly. He fights but it is still too strong to be fought. So no, there is nothing more I can do, anything I try other than what I am doing now will only make it worse. I have to keep attacking the cancer and hope that he'll have the strength to hold on to the end."

"How much longer?"

"Two days."

He purses his lips. "I don't know. Do the treatments make him weaker?"

"Yes. They make his body weaker but cleaner. As the sickness declines his body fights it harder but it's still too strong. Every day he's better but weaker."

"I think I understand. I'll do my best."

I put my hand on his shoulder. "I know you will."

When I go back into the bedroom Sacha is trying to interest Bridge in lunch but he simply shrugs and sighs. "Whatever you want, Sacha. I'm not hungry but I know I'll get grief if I don't eat so I'll eat whatever you give me."

"But there must be something that you'd like. Scrambled egg? Noodles? Candyfloss?"

Bridge smiles. "If you get me candyfloss I'll eat it off your cock."

"Give me half an hour."

Bridge is smiling as Sacha leaves.

I lie down on the bed next to Bridge and look deep into his eyes. I am aware that Star is watching us but I ignore him. Bridge smiles his slow smile and a light twinkles deep behind his pupils. It's not the flash of red it is with Star, it is a golden light that shines from deep within. It almost feels as if the light is reaching out to me and drawing me in. I smile, despite my gloomy mood and reach out to touch his face.

He is cold. He is always cold and his skin is translucent pale. Now that I have drawn the sickness to the surface I can almost smell it in his blood and I can see it in him when I look at his face. There are deep shadows around his eyes and it makes me shiver. It would be unbearable if I lost him. But he is far from that. He is ill and cold and tired but he is still strong, I can see that too. I will do it. I will make him better; just a few more days.

"It's alright, Luma." 

His soft words startle me. "It is?"

He nods and smiles. "Yes, it is."

"What's alright?"

"I know you're doing your best. It's not your fault I'm so weak and hopeless."

"Bridge," I say sternly. "You are neither weak nor hopeless. Physically you are not strong right now although in a few days you will be, I swear it. But your spirit is strong, perhaps the strongest of us all. And, as for being hopeless... You should know that after a long, long time you have given me hope for peace. When I am in your arms my restlessness stills and a hole that I had not realised was there in my soul, is filled. I have so much hope for us."

"You do?"

"Absolutely."

He looks at me quietly for a while, then he smiles. "It gives me hope too, Luma. I know that here, with you, I can be myself, be complete. I just..." He pauses.

"Just what?"

"I don't feel... somehow I don't feel that it's going to last. I don't think you can save me, Luma."

"Don't you say that," I snap, shaking him slightly. "Don't you dare say that! I will save you! There is no question."

"But there is, isn't there?" he says sadly. "That's why you look at me with anxious eyes and have whispered conversations you think I don't notice. If you knew you could make me well then why did you ask Mario to make me those herb teas? They're not just for taste. They make me feel strange."

"What do you mean strange?"

"I don't know... like now. I drank his tea and now I feel... I feel..." He sighs. "I feel tingly, like I'm going to float off the bed and my head feels funny. I can't hold on to thoughts and I'm so sleepy I can hardly keep my eyes open. I know I was tired before but this is different. I feel like I'm drugged."

I smile and gently stroke his hair. "Then you probably are. Who knows what Mario puts in those teas? I don't think he's trying to poison you, though." I'm joking but he considers it seriously.

"No. I'm sure he's not trying to poison me. He's a good person."

"You sound very sure."

"I am. I can see it."

"See it?" 

He seems to be drifting slightly and his words are disconnected, coming from 'somewhere else'. "Yes. When I look at people I can see their goodness."

"So what do you see when you look at me?"

"You're good, Luma. For a long time you haven't been and it's hurt your soul but that will get better. Inside you're good and she knows it."

I am so startled I almost snatch back my hand. "She?"

"What?" His eyes are heavy now and he looks drugged, drifting.

"You said 'she'."

"Did I?" He yawns and snuggles in to me. I am stiff in his arms, my heart pounding.

"Who did you mean? Who is 'she'?"

"I don't know," he murmurs, almost asleep, "but she says she loves you."

My heart stops. "Bridge I... Bridge?" He's fast asleep his lips curved in a smile. I put my arms around him and pull him close, having to stop myself from crushing him. If I let myself I would be crying now.

"Is he alright?"

Damn. Star startles me. I had forgotten he was here.

"Yes. He's fine. Mario's concoctions have knocked him out, but he feels strong and he's breathing easy. It's just as well. He needs to conserve his strength. I would have preferred if it had been after he'd eaten but I'll get him whatever he wants later." 

"I can't..." I look up, startled again. Star is standing at my shoulder, although I don't think he even sees me. He has eyes only for Bridge. "I can't believe that I feel so strongly for him when I've known him for such a short time."

"I know what you mean," I say fondly, cradling Bridge carefully.

"What is it about him that makes him so special? It's not just us; everyone loves him."

"Yes, they do. I don't know, maybe it's his purity. He may have been a whore but he's curiously untouched."

"I can't believe that either. The thought of someone who doesn't love him putting their hands on him is unbearable. I can't believe that he would..."

"You don't know his story, Star," I say, looking up at him. For once the look he gives me is direct and non hostile. "He's lucky to have survived this long and prostitution was no choice for him... it was what he knew."

"Was he...?" Star gulps and rubs his hands on his trousers. "Did he get hurt at home?"

"Yes, I can tell you that much. He was hurt; terribly hurt. He was hurt so much that he welcomed the prospect of death."

Star laughs bitterly. "Yeah, I can understand that." His eyes had slid down to rest on Bridge's face but now they snap up again and glare at me as if daring me to press him on it.

Deliberately, I break eye contact and let my own eyes return to the sleeping face in my arms. It is so easy to get lost in him. He is so beautiful, so sweet, so vulnerable. I brush a stray strand of hair out of his eyes and smile.

"You know... the way you look at him... You're so... I didn't think you could be so gentle, so... human."

"So you think I am a monster?"

"Of course you are. Look at you. Look at what you do."

"What do I do?" I ask quietly and look up at him. He's angry again.

"You snatch boys off the street, hold them prisoner here, force them to have sex with you and drink their blood."

"And you think it's as simple as that; that it makes me wrong; that it makes me a monster?"

"Fucking right." That look in his eyes is so hot I could burn myself. He is incandescent with rage, it almost consumes him. For the first time I wonder what he's angry at.

I nod, looking at him thoughtfully. It's lucky I am holding Bridge because if I hadn't been I would never have been able to stop myself from taking him into my arms. Well, apparently she has said I wasn't to let him run away... so here goes.

"I have to drink to live. In return I give health, vitality and long life. I give warmth and comfort, a full belly, safety, companionship."

"Big deal."

"To Bridge it was a big deal, Star. He was on the point of death. If I hadn't taken him he would have been dead by now."

"Okay... but Bridge is the exception to anyone's rules."

Slowly I slide my arm from under Bridge who sighs and snuggles down again. I pull a blanket over him and gently tuck him in and then I stand up to confront Star. He looks uncomfortable then pulls himself up to look squarely in my eyes, almost snarling.

"What about Serif and Taz? You've experienced Serif yourself, and Taz is just as bad. Where do you think they would have found acceptance? Where would they have been free to be themselves without the distinct risk of ending up on the wrong side of the law, or worse? Where would they ever have found each other?"

"Well yeah... they're exceptions too. They're just crazy." He seems a little less angry and a little more uncertain.

"And then there's Chancey. He was a messenger boy for the mob in the 40's. When I found him he was bleeding to death in a dumpster. Now, more than fifty years later he is still sixteen and running the whole house. He came from a home where dinner came from someone else's rubbish. Now he's with Ara who is the cherished son of an aristocrat, who was desperately unhappy, but locked by family and responsibility into a future that wouldn't have killed him but would have broken his spirit.

"Sacha was the child of the 'free love' generation. He lived in a commune and had no idea who his parents were. By the time I found him he was addicted to LSD, being screwed by everyone in the community, men and women alike, because of his beauty and he was set to burn out before he reached twenty.

"David and Pen came from similar backgrounds and would probably have had reasonably happy lives but they would never have met.

"And today I found two new boys in the shell of a broken warehouse. They were filthy, cold, starved and hopeless. One of them was in a coma and slipping away and the other one was waiting for him to die so he could follow. Tell me how wrong I was to bring them here, how much of a monster I am to have taken them away from that."

Star drops his eyes then snaps up again. "Alright. Maybe you're right, maybe their lives are better but there were others, I know that. You killed them. Chancey got rid of their bodies and you just went out and got more."

"I won't lie, yes I did. There were those who died accidentally and those I drained for the pleasure of tasting their last moments in their blood." He blanches and his eyes widen. "There was a time when I hated humans, I hated them with a passion and I wanted to hurt them in any way I could. I'm not proud of that, but I'm not apologising either."

"No, of course not. Perish the thought that you would ever apologise for anything. Now, you're a fucking hero."

"No, not a hero. I still get what I want from the exchange, but I do give back. I give my boys what they need... a home."

"A home?" He sneers. "And what about me? You didn't find me under a bridge or in a warehouse. I wasn't dying."

"No?"

I raise my eyes sharply and he freezes taking a mental step backwards. "No," he says firmly.

I take a step towards him and he doesn't move. "You were already dead, Star; you were dead inside." He looks up as I take another step. "You were looking for something that night. Maybe you weren't looking for what I was offering, but something close."

"I..."

His eyes are locked with mine and the red light is flaring strong in the pupils. I can feel his fear and his uncertainty locked behind a screen of anger. I close the rest of the distance between us until I am close enough to touch.

"Tell me that, if I hadn't found you that night, you would have gone on; that you would be alive today."

"I..." His eyes are wide and he looks more frightened than angry now. He turns away but I grab his arms and stop him. He struggles, but soon realises I am too strong for him to make any impression.

"Tell me, Star; tell me that you wouldn't have died that night... or the next."




Fallen Ch. 16



"I..."

"Tell me." Without him even realising it I have let go of his wrists and put my arms around him, drawing him close. He is just about the same height as me and my vision is dominated by the most incredible shade of blue.

"No..." he whispers, struggling again, but it is weak and uncertain.

"Star, you are the most beautiful boy I have ever laid eyes on. When I saw you in the bar, I watched you all night. I wanted to touch you, to taste you, but for the first time ever I was afraid. I was afraid I would drive you away, that I would lose you." 

"You kidnapped me." He tries to rally but there is no real anger in his voice now.

"I couldn't help myself. I couldn't let you go."

"You almost killed me."

"It was the biggest mistake of my life."

"You... you drugged me, kidnapped me, brought me here and had sex with me." There is a flash in his eyes but I am ready.

"Can you really tell me that you didn't want it, that you didn't like it?"

"I... no I... I didn't want it."

"Really? When you were biting me, when you were growling like an animal, did you really want it to stop?"

"I..."

"Tell me the truth, Star. Isn't it the very fact that you didn't hate it; that you wanted me, wanted it, that's made you so angry? Isn't it the fact that everything that has happened to you since I passed you the JD in the bar turned you on, that has made you hate me?"

"I..."

"Tell me, Star." He shakes his head, a look of desperation coming into his eyes. "Tell me," I command

Something snaps behind his eyes and he sags, lowering his head, all the fight leaking out of him. "Yes," he whispers.

I lift his face with my fingers and stare into his eyes, moving my hand to cup his cheek. "I promised I would not take you unless you asked me to, that I would not lay a hand on you unless you wanted it." He swallows noisily. "If you want me to walk away, right now, I will. If you want me to never speak to you again, I will. If you want me to let you go then I will."

"Why?"

"You said yourself that there is something about Bridge that even though you haven't known him for long makes you absolutely sure that you love him and will never stop loving him. I felt that the first moment I looked into your eyes. I love you, Star. I would live or die for you and I can't bear it a moment longer. Being close to you, seeing your smile, your eyes, smelling your scent, hearing your voice is torment. I would rather release you and never see you again than to have to live with you, seeing you every day and not being able to be with you."

"Do you mean it?" he asks as if he really can't believe he's saying it. "Do you really love me?"

"With all my heart."

There are tears in his eyes and his jaw is trembling where he has clenched his teeth. "I don't love you. I... hate you."

"Are you sure?" Still holding his face with my hand I move closer.

"Yes, I... I don't... I don't..." He keeps on saying it right up until our lips meet and then he throws his arms around me and pulls me close, kissing me as I have never been kissed before. 

There is desperation in the kiss and I can feel his heart thudding against my chest. The smell of his blood is intoxicating and I want him... oh Hel I want him.

"Not here." I manage to gasp between kisses. "Bridge... not here."

Panting, Star lifts his head and looks down at Bridge, who is sleeping peacefully. He nods and comes willingly when I take his hand and lead him out of the room.



Fallen Ch. 17



As soon as we get through the door of his apartment he throws himself into my arms again, kissing me desperately.

"Star, wait, wait. I want... I want to tell you something, something I need you to know."

He raises his head and looks at me, the hunger flaring in his eyes, burning red. "What?"

"I... I can't change who I am, what I am. I have to feed and sex is as much as part of it as the blood itself. I have to drink from many boys because if I take only one I would kill him in a few weeks. I know; I've tried it. I can't be faithful to you. I can't be just with you. But I can promise, I can swear, I can make a contract written in my blood... that I will always, always come back to you at the end of the day and I will spend every moment I can with you. I need to know if that's enough for you, if you can live with that because I can't let myself go all the way, invest myself in you completely and then lose you."

"I know what you are. I know what you do. Do it to me."

"What?"

"Do it to me: what you did before. Do it to me now."

I stare at him for a moment, at the fire burning in his eyes and then I leap at him, knocking him over onto the bed and landing on top of him. "Do you really want to see what I can do?"

"Oh yes. I've wanted it since the moment I woke up here."

"Bastard. Why have you been...?"

"I couldn't let you have me too easily. I was too pissed with you."

I pause for a moment and lift my head, looking down into his wonderful eyes. "When did you know?"

"When did I know I was in love with you?" I nod and he laughs. "Possibly from the first moment I looked into your eyes, certainly from the moment your hand brushed mine when you pushed the JD across the table to me."

"Then you must have been very 'pissed with me'."

"Oh yeah, damn pissed... especially when you spoiled my fun with Serif."

"Have the bruises faded?"

"Yep. Time for some more I think."

"You're amazing. I have never met anyone like you before. You are beautiful. You look like-- not like an angel. Serif looks like an angel; Bridge looks like an angel, but you...you look like the truth behind all angels, the being on which they are based and are all poor shadows of. Your eyes... I have never seen anything like them, they-- call to me. I see them in my sleep, whenever I close my eyes. I smell you, I taste you I... feel you. You drive me crazy."

"You say the nicest things." He is joking, but then the laughter flees his eyes and leaves an intensity that makes me breathless. "I love you," he whispers and I can't hold back another moment.

I have to fight hard to retain enough control not to crush him. He cannot compete with me in strength, not yet. He fights me and I have to be careful in the height of passion that I do not fight back too hard. We literally tear off our clothes and when we are naked and I have kissed him until my lips feel raw I begin to send him on a crazy, wild ride. 

Slowly, I trail my fingers over his pulse points, from his wrist to his throat and then down to his inner hip joint, behind his knee and his ankle. At every one I pause to let ecstasy leak into his veins. By the time I am done, he is wild. He does not slide into stupor as most people do. He is writhing, with his head thrown back, his wonderful hair flung around all over the place, his lips red from kissing and where he has been biting them.

Finally, I begin to massage his balls and his body jerks. It is hot and trembling and I can feel the strength and vitality humming within. When I take him into my mouth he grabs my hair and pushes my head down until I start flicking the head of his cock, sending pulses through his shaft and deep into his abdomen. Groaning deeply, he lets his hands fall away.

After a time, when I feel that his climax is beginning to rise in him, I let him fall from my mouth and toy with him with my fingers as I kiss my way up his body and press my lips against his. He is moaning now, lost in ecstasy and I taste it on his lips. He is totally mine. I can do whatever I want to him and he is powerless to resist, but I find that I want him to. I don't want to play his body while he doesn't have the will or the consciousness to truly participate.

I let go of him and pull him into an embrace, our bodies pressed against each other along their whole length. He is panting hard and completely unfocussed but still he manages to wind his legs around me and push me onto my back, so I am in a cave of white hair with twin orbs of shining aqua glowing above me.

He is deliberately rubbing his hips against mine and I am amazed at how quickly he has recovered his focus. I moan and let my head fall back. Perhaps it is time to relinquish some of the control. I gasp when he bites me, hard on the shoulder and then again on my collar bone. He lifts his head and his pupils are filled with fire.

"You like that, don't you? You don't think you do, but you do. Payback time."

He lowers his head again and licks from the base of my throat down to my nipple then bites me again.

"Aagh."

I feel Star grin against my hot skin and I realise I am shaking and breathing hard. I reach for him but he bats away my hands and moves lower. He kisses everywhere, over my ribs, my stomach, my thighs, everywhere but where I want him to. He works his way back up to my lips again and he still hasn't touched me.

"Oh Hel please..." I moan.

"Please what? Please bite me?" He obliges right where my shoulder joins my neck. I jump but not with pain, with hot anticipation. I reach for him again with the half formed thought that I need to get back control. I need to... to...

At last he slides his hot body over mine, touching length to length, our erections dancing with each other. At last a touch... a touch. I raise my legs and wrap them around his waist thrusting against him and he lets me for a while, teasing me with his lips, teeth and hands and then... then when I am in a fever, more of a frenzy than I have been for thousands of years, than I believed that I ever would again, the little bitch moves so fast I don't know what's coming and before I know it he's buried to the hilt in me with a self satisfied smirk on his face.

"No. No I..."

"No, I bet you don't, but tonight you're going to, so shut up and enjoy it."

I try to tell him that I just don't do this. No one has entered me; no one. Since Astaria I have only taken, I have never given and yes... yes it hurts but it isn't that, it isn't physical at all it's... it's... I have to tell him... something. But by this time he's stroking, long and slow and, at the same time massaging my cock and I've lost the ability to think about anything but this amazing boy who is riding me like no one ever has before. His fingers, his smell, his touch, his... his...

After a few minutes of acclimatisation he starts to increase speed and penetration until he is riding me hard, slamming into me and throwing back his head with his wild hair cascading over his shoulders. My fingers claw at his hands which are the only parts of him I can reach and then I feel the tide rising and instinct takes over. 

Sitting up is hard but I am strong and Star is surprised. Nevertheless, even when I pull him to me, even when I sink my fangs into his neck he still rides me hard, even when my venom seeps into him and he slows, he doesn't stop. When he feels he is losing focus he bites me; bites me hard, drawing blood. I am too far gone in the feeding frenzy to care and we writhe together, our bodies rising in the same blazing heat, until they convulse together and, locking our legs around each other I taste his release while I experience mine; not something I have done before but definitively something I want to do again.

I am wild. His blood is fire in my veins. Even as my body is wracked with the ecstasy of orgasm my tongue and throat are assaulted with something that is like an orgasm in my mouth. I can't get enough of him. He is so... so... He is chewing so hard on my shoulder it's starting to really hurt.

The pain eventually breaks through my mania and I withdraw, falling back onto the bed, exhausted while Star kneels over me with a strange expression on his face. It is that that brings me down from my high... with a crash.

"I'm sorry. I'm so sorry Star, are you alright?" I stare up in anxious horror at his carefully neutral expression.

Suddenly my heart is thudding in my chest. What have I done? Have I driven him away again? I'm a fool, a bloody fool. I haven't lost control like this; I haven't lost control at all... not for centuries. Why does it have to be with him? Because it is him. 

"You almost did it again, didn't you? You almost drained me; went too far?" 

His voice is carefully devoid of emotion. It is driving me crazy. How is he feeling? What does he want me to say? What can I say? With a sinking heart I decide that there can only be truth between us.

"I lost control. I have not done that in centuries. You drive me wild. The taste of you; the smell of you and – and no one has ever... ever penetrated me before. I would not allow it, wouldn't have surrendered control. Men have died for what you just did but you – you could do anything to me. I'm yours. I'm sorry; I'm truly sorry. I don't know what else to say."

For a moment he gazes down at me, his face inscrutable and then suddenly he laughs. "Seriously? You're seriously a virgin? Well... you're not now but you were?" Stunned, I stare at him. "No wonder you were so tight," he says cheekily, as he collapses on top of me and rolls to snuggle into my side.

"Are you alright?" The smile fades and he knows I am not just asking about his health.

"Yes, I'm alright."

"Do you need blood?"

He smiles and shakes his head. "But the next time you do that I will punch you and it won't be in the face."

Joy surges all through me and I hug him tight until he grunts and pushes against my chest. "Hey, let me breathe. God! First you drain me and then you crush me, what's next?"

I pull away hastily but he is laughing, teasing. For a time we just lie, staring at each other and I am fascinated by the flame that flickers behind his eyes. I caress his face and stroke his beautiful hair until he is half asleep.

"Your hair is amazing, so beautiful."

"Mmm," he purrs.

"In fact you are all perfect." I touch his chest and lips and he closes his eyes with a contented sigh.

"You are still beautiful too, Luma," he mumbles.

"What?" I snatch back my hand and he opens his eyes, confused by the tone of my voice. "What did you call me?" I snap

"Luma," he says, surprised.

"Why did you call me that?" There is something in the way he says it that sends shivers through me.

"Because it's your name isn't it? It's what everyone in here has been calling you. Or would you prefer me to call you Lumin'el?"

"But how... how did you know?"

"I've always known. I've always known you. Well I didn't know it was you, not at first, but I've always known about you."

"I don't understand... how?"

"She told me. If I'd known from the start who you were I wouldn't have been so angry. It wasn't until today, when I saw the way you looked at Bridge... I suppose she has been trying to get through to me from the start but at first I was too drugged and sick and then too angry. I couldn't or wouldn't listen."

"I still don't understand. Who's 'she'?" As if I don't know.

Star frowns. "It's a long story."

"We have time."

As he opens his mouth his stomach rumbles and I laugh. "Maybe we should adjourn for lunch."

"I'll go and get something from the kitchen."

"We have our own kitchen."

"But there's nothing good in there. I checked it out and it's all healthy stuff," he says it as if he's disgusted, getting up and stretching lazily, making my cock twitch. Hel he is so beautiful.

"You keep my side of the bed warm for me." He slips on a robe and pads across the floor, stalking like a cat, a panther I think. The change in him is remarkable. Suddenly he is completely at home, utterly comfortable with me; with his place in my heart and my home... our home. What the fuck just happened?

I lie back and pull the covers over me, suddenly cold without him in my arms. A place inside me which has been frozen for years has thawed, filling the void and I am utterly content.

When Star comes back I am dozing and he laughs at me. "Get up you lazy fat slob. You're as bad as Bridge."

"Bridge?"

"I called in on him on my way back. He's still fast asleep. He's looking better though, not so tired. I think Mario's herbs are doing him some good."

I would like to be happy about that, and I am, but there is something that tugs at my stomach every time I think of Bridge and it will take more than a few hours sleep to shake it. 

Star sets down a tray of snacks on the table and produces a bottle of Rioja from a nearby cupboard. I raise an eyebrow.

"I felt it was possible that at some point I might find myself under siege so I made provisions." That amuses me no end-- Star trying to barricade himself in a room that in so many senses of the word doesn't exist at all. "What are you smiling about?"

"Nothing. I'll tell you later." He pours two generous glasses and hands me one. Rioja is not my favourite wine, too light, but it is pleasant enough. I watch him raise the glass to his lips and sip, enjoying the wine. He flutters his eyelashes at me over the rim.

"What?" he asks innocently.

"Nothing, just thinking lustful thoughts."

"Aren't you always?"

"Do you breathe?"

He laughs and sets down his glass, delicately picking through the food. He is casually lounging in the chair, his robe falling open at the front. It is hard to concentrate on anything else. I force my mind away.

"So, you were saying?"

"I was?"

"You were about to."

He frowns and fiddles with the food in his hand. "I don't know how hard it is for you to believe... I suppose not as hard as for a human." He takes a deep breath. "Ever since I can remember there's been a part of me that wasn't me." He glances up to gauge my response. I smile and nod. "I can't describe it. It's as if there's another person living inside me." His eyes grow distant as he looks deep inside himself and his words become more fluent, more animated.

"When I was very young she would sing lullabies to me whenever I was lonely or scared. They were about angels and stars and I used to dream that she was singing about me. I thought she was singing about stars because that was my name but as I got older I started to wonder if it was the other way around; if I was named Star after the things she was singing about. I could almost imagine my mother looking into my eyes and singing the song to me, telling me that my name came from the stars, the same stars she was singing at. I never got the chance to talk to her about it because she died just after I was born."

"Did she ever tell you who she was, the woman who sang to you?"

"No. I never really thought of someone separate to me because she was inside me if that makes sense."

"It makes sense."

He nods and continues. "As I got older she started to tell me things, things about another world where things were better. She talked about a beautiful white city on a mountain overlooking a lush valley, and about the beings who inhabited it, who weren't human. She told me about one man in particular, someone she loved very much. They were separated in a war. He died I think, at least she said she lost him. She was very sad about it."

"He didn't die," I say softly. "He never died, he just... changed. He was punished horribly and part of that punishment was that it could never end. The separation; the eternal life of pain and separation."

"It was you, wasn't it? That man? It was you."

"Yes. It was me."

His voice grows distant, dreamy as he looks deep inside himself. "The way she spoke about you made it obvious that she loved you beyond reason. Over time, listening to her words, her stories, the way she spoke, the way she felt, I fell in love with you too. Of course I'm sure she exaggerated what actually happened..."

"I doubt it. She was never one for saying anything that wasn't true. She simply doesn't lie."

"Exaggerating isn't lies."

"In her eyes a lot of things are lies." I smile to myself. "And with hindsight, devoid of the emotions that drove us, I suppose it was a very exciting time, an epic time. Go on."

"I've known what I am forever. I mean as soon as I started noticing, I was... sexually drawn to others, it was always boys; girls did nothing for me, never. I hid it for as long as I could. If it hadn't been for her I think I would have killed myself years ago.

"Did you have to hide it?"

"God yes. My father would have killed me; literally. God knows he came close enough as it was." Star sighs and puts down the food untouched.

"Did he hurt you?" I ask softly. He hangs his head.

"In every way imaginable. He hated me because he said I killed my mother."

"That's ridiculous."

"Of course it is, but it wasn't to him. He used to call me mother-killer in the way that others say motherfucker and sometimes he'd put his hands around my neck and squeeze until I blacked out; screaming at me that I was a murderous bastard and he was going to teach me what it was like to die. I think sometimes he really meant to kill me but something always held him back."

"Star I... How did you cope? How...?"

"She did it – she saved me. She sang to me and comforted me and told me that one day I'd get away; one day I'd be safe; one day I would find love; one day I'd find you and nothing would ever hurt me again."

"And you did."

"In the end." He takes another long drink from the wine. It stains his lips red and I so want to take him in my arms and kiss them, but I know he needs to get his story out and I need to hear it. "Before that there were years of pain, humiliation, deceit. If it hadn't been for her I'd have given up and died a long time ago. But..." He closes his eyes, squeezing them shut. "Then I lost her."

"What do you mean... lost her?"

"She stopped talking to me. It was just over two years ago. One night I had a dream. I dreamed of a woman, a beautiful woman with long red hair. She was painting with a canvas on an easel. I never saw what she was painting, although I really wanted to. Somehow, I thought that if I could only see the painting I'd understand everything.

"She took me in her arms and kissed me like a mother and said that it was time for me to set out on my final journey to find my destiny. I thought she meant that I was going to die but when I said it out loud she laughed at me and said that I'd be walking away from death, not towards it. She said that the journey would be long and hard and if she could have journeyed with me she would have but it was something I had to do alone. She promised that she'd be there for me at the end but, until then I had to go on alone.

"When I awoke she was gone – well no, she was still there... she still is now, but something had changed. It's as if the two parts of me had merged. I could still feel her essence inside me, but we weren't separate any more, she couldn't talk to me because she was me." He looks anxious again. "Does that make sense?"

"Perfect sense." I have been watching his face as he speaks and he is sad, so sad. I want to comfort him but what can I say?

"That day was the worst of my life that far. Without her I didn't see how I could possibly go on. I was so sad, so lost that I forgot to do something my father had asked me to do and he beat me up so badly I wanted to die and she wasn't there to help me. 

"I struggled on for about six months or so with my dad beating me almost every day and then, one day I painted a painting. For years I'd been sketching in a book I kept hidden under my bed. It's where I put my feelings. There were sketches of my father and what I wanted to do to him-- and ones of you, or at least how I saw you in my head, and what I'd have liked to have done to you." He blushes and it makes me smile.




Fallen Ch. 17



"One day a friend's mother bought me some paints and a canvas and I painted a picture. It was beautiful. I know I shouldn't brag but it completely swept me away. It was beautiful, stunning. It made me feel excited and hopeful and... all sorts of things I couldn't put into words. But it wasn't a painting to be left around where my father could see it. Of course, he did see it and he went completely crazy. He smashed the canvas across my back and beat me until I was unconscious. 

"When I came to the house was full of smoke. It was on fire and I was trapped. I think I must have been hallucinating from smoke inhalation, because I saw a figure in the smoke, just the outline of a person with a red light all around them, misty and unclear. It took my hand and led me through the smoke and flames and somehow I got out. 

"Once I hit the air I passed out and when I came round again I was in hospital. My father died in the fire. Because I was still only sixteen they tried to put me in a children's home but I wasn't having any of that and I ran away. I've been running ever since."



Fallen Ch. 18



Star is my soul, my saviour, to think of him; battered and sick, abandoned and alone makes me shiver. I think of Sam and Alex and how the streets had ground them down and the thought of Star living like that makes me sick to my stomach. I want to take him in my arms and hold him. I want to make the pain go away, I want to make everything right. But he still hasn't finished. He still needs to get it out.

"I made it on my own for over a year begging and then busking, but it all got too hard and there was no future in sight. What was the point going on from day to day struggling to make enough money to eat so I could live another one just the same? I was cold, dirty, often sick and hopeless. Two days after I turned eighteen I decided that I had two choices -- prostitution or death. I had nothing and no one so I would either make enough from selling myself to live some kind of a life or give up and die.

"That's about where you found me. I'd tried to force myself to take a trick but when it came to it I just couldn't. It's not as if I haven't had offers through the years and that's what gave me the idea to do it in the first place, but every time I tried I bottled out. That night at the bar was my second night trying, my second chance to myself. If I blew it, I'd walk out of the bar and find somewhere to die. I hadn't quite worked out how but I figured it wouldn't be that difficult." 

I stare at him as he looks up at me expectantly. My mind freezes and all I can think of to say is. "I thought you were older."

At first, he just stares at me incredulously, then a smile creeps over his face until he can't help but laugh. "You're insane." Then he looks sad again. "I think she's been trying to contact me, to tell me that you were you..." He shakes his head, grimacing. "That doesn't make sense but... I think part of the anger I have been feeling is with her. She abandoned me and now she's trying to tell me that this sick freak is the hero I've been building up in my mind, pinning all my hopes on."

"Sick freak is it?"

He looks up, alarmed then subsides and shakes his head. "I'm sorry Luma I... I'm just... lost."

At last I let myself do what I have wanted to do all along. I slide off my seat and crawl over to him, pressing myself against him, between his knees. The silkiness of the robe is cool against my skin. The rest of him is hot. I lay my hand against the side of his face, gazing into his eyes.

"You're not lost, Star, you've never been less lost. I'm here now and I will be your anchor, your navigator, your guiding star."

He smiles, looking down at me, his eyes twinkling. Slowly he bends his head and I raise mine. His lips are soft, so soft and they part sweetly, the tip of his tongue flicking out to tease my lips. I sigh and run my hands around his ribs under his robe. He shivers and slouches lower in the chair, rubbing himself against me. 

"If you keep doing that I am going to have to ravish you."

"Ravish? That's a fabulous word. Show me what it means."

I get to my feet so fast he doesn't see it and before his mind processes the fact I have moved I have him in my arms and I throw him on the bed.

"What...?" He says, blinking, confused. He doesn't have a chance to say another word because I'm on him, pinning him to the bed with my body. I kiss him roughly, taking his breath away. His hands come up and hold me weakly. He's still not quite sure what's happening, but he rolls with it and his grip tightens, as he digs his fingers into my sides.

Releasing his lips so that he can gasp I kiss down his neck making him shudder, and over his collar bone to his nipples. I bite one and he squeaks. While I enthusiastically attack his nipple I let my hand slide down over his abs and start to massage his balls, no less enthusiastically. There is nothing gentle about ravishing and he's not having gentle now. 

He tries to respond but every time he raises his head or his hands I up the ante and send him moaning and shivering back to ground zero. When he is in a frenzy, I kneel between his legs and start to kiss upwards from his belly button, nipping the skin as I go. When I get to his throat I lick and kiss, grazing his skin with my teeth, making him writhe beneath me.

If I had been feeling more clear headed I might have prolonged the experience but, between the conversation we have just had, and the rise in temperature my rough handling has achieved I am in no condition to take it slow. Raising myself I slide my hands under his buttocks and lift his hips until I can get into position to tease his entrance with the head of my cock. He responds instantly by wrapping his legs around me, raising himself and freeing me to firmly grasp my cock and guide it into him, inch by inch, past his barriers.

He gives a long shuddering moan and starts to thrust his hips, using his legs to raise himself higher. Wow. But this is my ravishing and, grabbing his hips, digging my fingers in I steady him to allow me to start pumping him. At first, my movements are restricted by his legs but, after the first few strokes he loosens them and I really start to thrust, entering him harder and faster. 

Growling low in his throat, his teeth bared Star grasps the bedclothes in both hands and thrusts up into me, tilting his hips for deeper penetration. He throws his head from side to side and almost reminds me of Serif in his wildness. I tilt back my head and close my eyes, revelling in the passion.

When I feel the tides rising, I force myself to focus not only on what I am doing but on him too. I grasp his shaft and take him with me on the ride that sends us both to orgasm sobbing and gasping. Thank Hel I am not too consumed that I lose control. I could not go through what happened to Taz, with Star.

When it is done, I collapse onto the bed and lie with my eyes closed, waiting for my breathing to slow and my heart to stop racing.

I feel something tickling my chest and open my eyes to find Star propped up on one elbow stroking me with the tips of his fingers.

"So that was ravishing?"

"Pretty much."

"I like it. Next time I'm going to ravish you."

"I think you did that already."

There was a hesitant knock on the door and Sacha comes in, smiling to see us. "I checked in on Bridge but he's fast asleep and I wondered where you were and..." He tapers off uncertainly as we turn blazing eyes on each other and grin. 

"Ever been ravished, Sacha?" Star purrs. As Sacha's eyes widen, I shoot off the bed and grab him from behind. As with Star, it takes him some time to process what is happening and, by the time he does, he is flat on his back on the bed with Star's mouth pressed firmly over his, cutting off any chance of complaint which, from the signs I am getting from his body language, there wouldn't have been anyway.

Leaving Star to take care of ravishing the top half of his body— and I notice that he is going to town on Sacha's nipples even harder than I did his, I take control of the lower half and have him turned into a bowl of sex flavoured jelly in no time. I deliberately refrained from using my venom on Star but not so with Sacha.

I raise him up and crash him so many times I would be really surprised if he knows his own name right now. Star is excited by it too, I can see. He has watched in curiosity and amazement as Sacha loses himself more and more in what I am doing to him. He's played to it too, adding to the experience as much as he can.

Sacha is starting to get exhausted and I am going to have to end it soon. He is approaching the limit of what he can take. Almost as if he can read my mind— or maybe he is just good at reading the signs—Star slides himself down the bed. Winking at me, he turns Sacha's leaden body onto its stomach. Sacha is unable to move and I think he is actually glad of the reprieve. He lies panting as Star lifts his hips and I slide under him as he had done with Bridge.

He tastes hot and sweet and I close my eyes and savour him as I suck with long smooth strokes letting my teeth graze him, but keeping my venom to myself. Gradually, some strength returns to him and he moans with ecstasy. I know by the movement of his body that Star is being gentle with him, moving in and out slowly. After the passion he showed with me it is good to see that he has a gentler side too.

I feel Sacha's climax approaching and I so want to sink my teeth into a vein and taste it but that would not be the right thing to do, not now. Star is gripping his hips hard, although Sacha is steadier on his legs now, and he is speeding up. He knows the end is approaching too. 

Sacha lets out a series of guttural moans and then shudders and expels. Hel he tastes good, he tastes so good. 

I slide out to find Star with his head bent, kissing Sacha's back, still inside him. Sacha is trembling all over but has managed not to collapse forwards. Star raises his head and meets my eyes, his are wide and sparkling.

Together, we turn Sacha over and lie down, one on each side of him. Star kisses him gently, propped and smiling lovingly down into the dazed eyes, while he runs his fingers lightly over his sweating chest. I stroke his hair. 

As Sacha comes down, his shivering eases and his breathing deepens. Eventually, he becomes more aware of his surroundings. He has experienced me before and it is not such a shock for him anymore, but he will never completely get used to it. How could he? I am like a drug— the more you have the more you crave.

"What was that all about?" He asks with a huge smile on his face when he is able to speak again. 

"I was having a lesson in ravishing. Luma showed me what it meant but I needed to practice on someone -- and you were it."

For a moment Sacha smiles fondly up at him and even reaches up to touch his face. Then he frowns. "Luma?" He asks puzzled. "I thought your name was Radu but it seems to have changed."

Star bites his lip and looks at me anxiously. I smile reassuringly. "It's a name Sacha, just like any other name. A name I was called a long time ago and don't use any more. It is a name I would prefer not to hear outside these apartments. I suppose it is going to be asking too much of Star to stop him speaking that name to me as it's the only name he has known me by for a long time, but I need to get used to it some more before I can handle hearing it on anyone else's lips."

"Of course. I wouldn't..."

"I didn't mean you, Sacha." He has turned his head to face me, his eyes anxious. Do I do this to everyone, even those who love me? Am I such a monster that everyone walks on eggshells, desperate to please me? I smile as gently and tenderly as I can and stroke the damp hair out of his face. "Any name you choose to call me would sound sweet from your lips."

It almost hurts me the way he lights up, the look of love that shines from his eyes. If only I could love him back. I pause for a moment, a strange thought popping into my head. I look again into those melting brown eyes and wonder why I had felt so badly about the expression they had held before. Why had it upset me to see him anxious because of my words? I think of Bridge; I think of Star. The way I feel about them is very different, very different from each other too, but...

"I love you, Sacha. You are beautiful and soft and sweet and gentle. You care about things so deeply, you seek to please me with no hope of return. You are honest and loyal and open and... and I don't know when it happened, or how... but I love you."

Tears spring to his eyes and for a moment he simply stares at me as they overflow and trickle down into his hair. His lip trembles and he catches it between his teeth to stop it. He looks as if he wants to speak but he can't. I can't bear it and I take him into my arms. He throws his around me and clings to me silently weeping. Star comes up close behind him and wraps his arms around him too.

"I love you too, Sacha. For all the same reasons and because you were kind to me when I was too lost and angry to see what was in front of my face. I will never forget the night we spent together, the things you said to me, the way you made me feel. That will always be ours, and just ours; but we will make more nights, many more nights that will belong to us all, Bridge too."

Sacha sighs deeply and leans back, resting his head on Star's shoulder and looking up into his face. "You are beautiful." He whispers. "I adore you." Star kisses him gently and suddenly we are... we are... different. We are whole... almost.

"We need Bridge."

"Soon. At the moment he needs to rest."

"He's still asleep. Is that alright? He's slept all day."

"It's Mario's concoction. It knocked him out. He seems to be looking better for it though, not so... haunted."

"Yes. He was smiling in his sleep when I looked in on him. That's why I worked out you were in here... because I thought you would probably have wanted to not disturb him."

"He hasn't eaten much though, and that worries me. I think we will have dinner on the terrace tonight, all four of us. It's going to be a lovely warm evening and maybe a bit of fresh air will do him good. I'll ask Chancey to get the cook to make something light but appetising and maybe Mario can make him something that isn't going to knock him out quite as much."

"How long do you think it will be before you can stop draining him so much?"

"I'm not draining him." I snap defensively and mentally kick myself at the flinch. I take a deep breath and consider, saying more calmly. "I have to admit though that what I do is draining him, his strength that is. I can't give the healing without exchanging it for blood. I can only release that kind of venom when I'm feeding. If I could do it another way I would but it's not that which is draining him.

"My venom is drawing the sickness out of him. You may as well know, he has cancer, a very virulent form and it had all but consumed him. His body was riddled with it and it was on the point of giving up." The shocked intakes of breath and wide eyes hurt me but it's best they know. "I have already drawn much of the cancer from him. His blood is so much cleaner that it was and in a few days it will be gone.

"It hasn't been easy because the cancer wasn't the only thing he had. He has been used and abused by men for so long he was infected with the diseases they carried and gave to him. He was very, very sick and would have died in a day or so."

"I... I didn't think it was that bad." Sacha stutters.

"It isn't, not any more. As I said, he is almost clean. Another few days and it will be gone; he will be well and can start getting strong again. But now... At the moment..." I sigh and shrug. "He's balanced on the edge. I give him as much as I can, but his body is exhausted from fighting off all the diseases for so long. Every treatment I give him weakens him even more because now his body is able to fight it is fighting but doesn't have the strength to do it. I am worried about him, very worried."

"Why can't you give him energy like you do with us? I know you can do it, I've felt you."

"There are lots of reasons, Sacha. The main one is because a body, any body, can only take so much of my energy in one day or it will burn out. I have to concentrate all of my energy on drawing the sickness from his body. Whatever the reasons the facts are simple. I can't do it. I can't give him energy. I can only take away the sickness and I can't do it all at once. Every day he gets better but he also gets weaker."

"So what does that mean?"

"It means that in another few days he'll be free of sickness and I can give energy to him to help build him up again. In a week he'll be better than ever before but until then, until I can start building him up, every time I treat him I'm sending him further down and I'm scared that I won't get him clean before I push him beyond endurance and... and..." 

I swallow, tears in my eyes. Somehow saying it, getting it out in the open just makes it worse, so much worse. No it is my turn to be sandwiched between them and we are all crying.

We are so lost in each other and our grief that no one hears the door open... not that I am entirely sure we would have heard it even if we had been listening for it. The first thing we are aware of is another pair of arms wrapping us and a soft voice saying. "It's okay. Whatever's wrong we can fix it."

We freeze. Not one of us wants to move. Not one of us wants to look up into those emerald eyes and admit what we are upset about.

"Nothing's wrong honey." Of course it was Star. He's the strong one. "We're just emotional that's all."

"Is it because you've finally admitted how much you love him?"

My head snaps up and I stare at him incredulously. Star is smiling though and he hugs Bridge gently. "Yes, Bridge. I've finally admitted it."

"Good. Maybe now we can settle down without all the drama."

Star starts to giggle, then Sacha joins in and suddenly we collapse in a tangle of arms and legs and laugh like fools.



Fallen Ch. 19



It really doesn't get better than this. I have Bridge cuddled in to my side with Sacha lying on my other side ticking my chest and Star, glorious Star propped up on the other side of Bridge toying with his hair while his eyes... ravish me.

I find myself drowsing, time slows down and the moment feels eternal. 

"See? I told you if you just relaxed a little life could be good."

"What the--?"

"Sssh. I'm not really here and you know it. I'm getting ready to go but I need you to do one more thing for me before I go."

"Anything. You know I would do anything for you."

"Bring him to the summerhouse. I just want to see him once before I go."

"Haven't you been watching him?"

"From a distance. I've never seen him. I want to apologise for the way things had to be. Just once. Please Luma, just once."

"I could be annoyed that it's him you want to see, and not me."

"Why do you think I asked YOU to bring him?"

"Because he wouldn't be able to find the way himself."

"Nit picker."

"Whore."

"That's SACRED whore. Please at least try to get the right terminology."

"It's not the terminology I'm interested in."

"Oh please. You're sitting there with three gorgeous naked men ready to satisfy your every need and you call ME a whore."

"Bitch."

"Ah now, that's better." Her voice changes, becomes softer and less playful. "I'm waiting for you Luma."

Gently disengaging myself from Bridge and Sacha I sit up.

"I have to go out for a while. Can I trust you two to make arrangements with Chancey for an intimate yet perfect dinner on the terrace tonight?"

"Awww. You are always going somewhere. Why won't you stay put for a while? I miss you."

I lean down and kiss Bridge softly and tenderly. "I'll be back for dinner I promise and then I'm all yours until tomorrow morning."

"I'll be asleep for most of that." He pouts beautifully.

"What if I promise you the whole afternoon and evening tomorrow, and all the day after? I'll take you out into the garden and show you the roses."

He lights up and I feel horribly guilty about how I've been neglecting him.

"You promise?"

I kiss him again. "Absolutely. I promise."

He is smiling as I get up and he bounces up immediately. "Where are you going?"

"I need to take Star somewhere."

"Star? Why does Star get to go and I don't?"

"Because Star needs to be there and you don't."

"Why?" he asks, curious.

I have a feeling that he's not going to stop until he gets a satisfactory answer. I stop and turn to him, putting my hands on his shoulders. "Bridge, I love you with all my heart and you are adorable enough to eat. Curiosity is a wonderful attribute, which I know you have in plentiful supply, and I appreciate that. I also appreciate that you want to be with me, but you have to appreciate I am sometimes busy and there are times when I will have to leave you for a while and won't always be able to tell you why or where I am going. It doesn't mean I don't love you or trust you, but that I need you to trust me. Can you do that?"

All the time I am speaking he stares at me with his beautiful eyes in an intense stare. "I'm sorry. I don't mean to be clingy. It's just that no one has ever cared for me before and I suppose I'm insecure."

"You surprise me constantly, my dearest one. You have nothing to feel insecure about. You have a place in my heart that can be filled by no one else, a part of my soul that is yours alone. I will spend every moment I can with you. And when I am not with you then you must remember that every moment we are apart weighs on my heart."

His eyes are wide and shining and two tears glisten like diamonds in the corners, poised to spill. Before they can do so, I wipe them away and kiss him softly. I can feel him trembling. He is still so very frail. 

"Wait. I have something for you. Star, would you dress please, we have to hurry. Mystified, Star complies as I hurry back to my own apartment.

I throw on some clothes and stand for a moment in front of my dressing table, looking at the image who stares back at me from the large mirror behind it. I am looking at someone who hasn't existed for a very long time. Honey yellow hair shot with threads of copper and silver tumbles over shoulders that are wide and well built. It is tousled and messy from my recent activities and I take a brush and tame it to its usual smooth, deep waves.

Haunted eyes of soft green top full lips, which are more used to frowning than smiling, these days, and at the moment are softer than I have seen in forever. I smile and my face is transformed. I know I am beautiful but for centuries that beauty has been cold and cruel. For a moment, I see a flash of something in the mirror, a slender body and smiling face leaning over my shoulder but of course, when I turn she is not there.

With a sigh, I lower my eyes to the jewelled box that lies in front of me and I toy with the lid before I open it. I am reluctant but resolute.

Nestled on the black velvet, like stars in a dark sky, are rows of rings, marching in orderly ranks and files, trophies taken from various stages of my long life. Many of them are worth more than the average man will earn in a lifetime. In the corner there is a small box, part of the fabric of the structure. I open the lid carefully and stare in wonder at my most precious possessions. They are priceless, because they were given to me by the one I care for most in all the worlds.

I pick up a ring, which is wrought from pure silver. It is light because the silver is filigree and delicate as spun sugar. It is an angel, his wings spread out, their tips touching to make the band. In the centre of his chest, pointing downwards, is a perfect pear shaped sapphire. It would be easy for me to be lost in it for hours but I don't have the time. I slip it into my pocket and move on.

The next thing I pick up is a necklace, a pendent in the shape of a seven pointed star, the points radiating outwards from the spider web at the centre, on which is caught a blood red ruby.

Next, and most beautiful of all is a bracelet. It, like the others, is wrought of silver and is filigree but less delicate, more robust looking. The band is plain apart from the beautiful twisted designs of the filigree, but in the centre is a star carved from an enormous, brilliant emerald. Of them all this is undoubtedly the most beautiful. I turn it gently in my hand, watching the light catch the star and spin from its points, lighting a fire in its deep, green heart. 

They are a set and I remember her giving them to me. It was a long, long time ago. We were in Versailles, just before... before we were parted for the last time on this earth. I pick up the last item in the box and slip it on my finger. It is very simple; just one circular cut stone set into a band of silver. Unlike the others this one has no colour and all colours, the multi faceted diamond taking colour from everything around it.

Shutting the lid and taking one last look at myself in the mirror, I hurry from the room.

Star is dressed and ready to go. Sacha is dressed too, standing with his arms around Bridge from behind and his head on his shoulder, as they watch Star make his final adjustments to his white linen cuffs. They all look up and smile when I enter. The smiles fade when they see the look on my face.

Now it comes to it, I don't know what to say. It was an impulsive move and was incredibly important to me - is terribly important, but I don't know how to convey what my heart is feeling.

"It's been a long time, a very long time since I have opened my heart to anyone, and even longer since I have let anyone in. I haven't lived the best life and I have often been cold and cruel. I felt safer that way. If I viewed human life as pitiful and expendable, I would never have to admit them; I would keep my heart safe.

"But things have happened; three things in fact, which have changed my perspective forever and opened my heart in a way it never has before. You are more than my family, you are pieces of my soul and I felt it was important I mark that in a way that really means something to me.

"A long time ago someone I love very, very much gave me a wonderful gift. To mark the occasion she gave me four lesser ones and I have held them close to my heart ever since. I have kept them safe for almost four hundred years and I would sooner lose my life than lose them. But the time has come to let go, to allow her to travel her own path while I travel mine in the hope that one day the two will converge.

"And so..." They are all staring at me with wonder and curiosity on their faces, knowing that something important is about to happen - is happening. "Sacha." I call him over and he comes, looking at the others uncertainly. I turn him around and hold back his hair as I fasten the pendent around his neck. He touches it with his finger tips and holds it up as the light catches the ruby and sets it on fire.

I turn him round again and kiss him with passion. "You were the first. It may seem sometimes as if you are pushed aside but that is impossible. You are part of a whole that cannot exist without all of its parts."

Still gazing in wonder at the glorious gem, Sacha stands to one side, speechless as I draw Bridge into an embrace. "Hold out your hand." He holds it out with wide eyes expecting me to place something in the palm. Instead, I clasp the bracelet around his slender wrist and fasten it securely. Still holding his hand I turn it over and he gasps when he sees the star. 

Speechless, Bridge stares at the star. It is sparkling, and the depth of colour is astonishing, but not as astonishing as the brightness and colour of his eyes when he looks up at me. 

"I... I... I can't. It... it's too good for me."

I put my hand over his where he is fumbling with the clasp. "Nothing is too good for you."

"But I... I don't deserve--"

I silence him with a kiss. "Bridge, my darling you have a lot of learning to do and one of the things you need to learn is that you're here with me now. Nothing is beyond you. Nothing is too good for you. You deserve to be loved and protected and showered with gifts."

"But I've nothing to give you in return." He looks anxious and it makes me laugh aloud.

"Bridge, you still don't get it. I have you in return and there is nothing I could give you that is of great enough value to compare with that. There is nothing I could give you that is a fraction of the value of you - your love, your sweetness. I wanted to give you something that you could look at every day and remember, even when I am not here, just how important you are to me."

He tears his eyes away from me to stare downwards, as he runs his fingers over the star. When he looks up he is crying. "Thank you," he whispers and I take him gently into my arms and kiss him. When we break, he rests his head on my shoulder and I hold him close, breathing in his scent.

I could have stayed here with him, like this, for a long time but there is no time and so I have to regretfully put him away from me.

"I'm truly sorry, Bridge, I would love to stay here with you but I cannot. I have to go and there is no more time to linger. Don't forget to make sure we have a good dinner on the terrace to come back to."

"I'll organise it myself," Sacha promises, with a smile.

"What about Star?" Bridge demands.

"What do you mean?"

"We've had presents, beautiful presents, wonderful presents: what about Star? Where's his present? You do have one for him, don't you? He can have mine..."

I give Bridge another gentle hug, silencing him. "It's alright Bridge, you do not have to share your gift. Star has his own."

I turn away from Bridge and walk towards Star. I can feel Sacha and Bridge following, curious to see what Star's gift could be. Staring into his eyes the whole time, I reach into my pocket, while lifting his left hand and slip the ring onto his finger. It fits perfectly.

Blinking, Star looks down at his hand and gasps. Against his pale skin the silver seems enchanted, a moonlit tracery of spider web embracing a teardrop fallen from the eyes of an angel as blue as those which stare unblinking at it. The other two, looking over my shoulder, make exclamations of awe and wonder but Star is silent, mesmerised by the beauty resting on his finger. It makes me smile.

"Star, we have to go." He looks up at me with dazed eyes, still speechless. "Star...?"

"Oh I... I'm sorry, of course."

Smiling at the other two, still looking dazed he follows me out of the house.