A Portrait in Blood

"'s funny, cos I could 'ave sworn you only 'ad one all the time you were in there," Kevan murmured into his dark hair.

Rayne peered up at him, perplexed. The mortal's manner had softened and mellowed since the altercation in the pub. Now he was almost solicitous but still undeniably mortal.

"This isn't the only pub in town!" Rayne forced a giggle and tilted his head back. "Have you come out here to look after me then?"

"It's not safe around here right now," Kevan reminded him seriously. "Someone ought to keep an eye on you. Pretty little thing like you are. You might get hurt."

"Ohhhh... I don't think so!" Rayne made a show of propping himself up and stumbled into Kevan so that the big fellow had to hold him just to keep him on his feet.

"Where are you staying?"

"I'm not staying. I'm going. I want another drink," Rayne tried to push himself away but the big hands on his arms held him firmly. He wriggled a little, not wanting to hurt the man but conscious that time was ticking on. If the killer struck again...

"I mean... what hotel?" Kevan sighed impatiently. "Can I take you back somewhere you'll be safe?"

"But I'm safe here with you," Rayne crooned at him, beaming at him idiotically. He tried another tactic, flopping into Kevan's arms and clinging to the big man like a limpet. "Take me home. I want to go home with you!"

By now he could feel Kevan's acute discomfort and he played on it. Two things were telling the Vampire that this man was not the Canal Street Killer. First of all, Kevan was genuinely confused about what to do with him now that they were alone together. The killer would surely have made a move to get him out of sight as soon as possible. Kevan Delaney seemed uncharacteristically helpless now. Rayne sober and sarcastic, he could possibly just have coped with. Rayne inebriated and uncooperative was another matter. Kev simply could not handle him.

Secondly... and more importantly, he was certainly not a Vampire - of any description. All the victims had been bled to death, or bled dry shortly after they expired, with no trace at all of the missing blood. Of course that did not necessarily mean that the killer was a Vamp but Rayne could not think of any other reason why he would go to all that trouble, if it was not in order to feed an insatiable hunger. Kev Delaney did not seem to him like the sort of man who would keep a mobile blood bank in the boot of his Volvo estate.

All mortals had distinct auras, which were visible to the Undead, like a second skin. From the shades of these auras, which played about them like the Aurora Borealis, anyone with the ability to do so could read what kind of being they were. Kevan was a bit of a bully, and a closet bigot - who, like as not, denied his homosexual leanings in order to protect his secure straight lifestyle - but he was not a murderer.

And if that was the case then Rayne needed to get rid of him but Kev was not so easy to dissuade.

"C'mon darlin'..." Kev told him severely now. "It's a cold night... where d'you live? Where can I take you?"

"Wh'rever you like, sweetness!" The Vampire leaned into his arms and rubbed against him like a kitten. "Back to yours?"

He guessed that Kevan wouldn't go for that. The guy wasn't wearing a wedding band but the indentation of his ring finger suggested that he had not long since removed it.

"Don't be silly. Where do you live?" the big fellow cajoled him, trying to prise Rayne off without much success. "Can I take you home. It's not safe out here and you're wrecked, darlin'. There's more than one or two guys back in the bar that were muttering about following you and giving you one."

"One what?" He grinned up at Kev sweetly.

"You know what I mean. Fucking you. Three or four guys at once, taking you up a back street... You're not taking this seriously are you?" Kev shook his head.

"I'm okay." Rayne looked up at him with huge, fall in and drown eyes. "Do 'you' want me, Kev?"

He was not entirely surprised to feel Kevan's body answer that question for him. Pressed up this close he could feel the burly stranger's stiffening cock rubbing against his belly through their clothes.

He had expected a quickie in one of the back alleys. As he had already surmised, Kevan did not want to take him home but in the end they went to a faceless boarding house just outside Chinatown. It was not far to walk, and the mortal paid the rental on their cheap, nondescript double room for a couple of hours. His companion let him pay. As far as he could see it, he had not actively cruised Kevan for sex and he certainly was not going to spend money on the guy. Maybe Kev would talk about the killings. Maybe he would learn something to his advantage in the process.

Taking off his coat and shirt, he sat down on the edge of the creaking double bed, then lay down, staring up at the cracks in the nicotine-stained ceiling. His companion dumped his heavy canvas tool bag on the bedside cabinet before taking his own clothes off, folding them methodically over the foot of the bed. He might once have been a muscle-boy, but time had crept up on him, ensuring that neither word could really be applied to Kevan now. Wordlessly, he scrambled onto the sagging mattress to slide groping hands into the t-shirt and jeans of his apparently inebriated companion. His mouth was hot and his tongue tasted of nicotine and hops as it wormed between the Vampire's lips and Kevan kissed him fiercely and hungrily.

"Are you virgin?" he asked before they fucked.

Rayne shook his head mutely then Kev stripped him naked and spread his legs. He groped the younger man's cock and balls and fingered his arsehole whilst kissing him wetly and noisily on the mouth and neck.

Rayne let him do as he liked. It was easy to shut it out these days, another hangover from his desperate past. He had got himself laid in much classier hotels, and much worse, than this one. But the guests downstairs still banged on the ceiling when the bedsprings creaked their protest and he gripped the sheets tight in both hands, crying out as his companion rammed himself in, only pausing briefly to spit some more lubrication into his partner's violated hole. Lying sprawled and supine, with his knees up over Kev's bulky shoulders, Rayne moaned incoherently until his vocal chords hurt him as much as his arse. This was one of those nights when he was beginning to wish that he had stayed home and not worried himself over the fates of a few boys he might never meet. Kevan had a big cock, and stamina to go with it... something else that was not immediately apparent from the shades and shapes of his aura!

He gripped Rayne's slim hips in both hands and banged himself violently deeper until the lean, dark-haired youth beneath him began to writhe and thrash on the bed. A low, shuddering moan escaped Rayne's parted lips and he snaked a hand between his long white thighs, rubbing himself as the vigorous pulsing in his rectum stimulated him to full erection. He began to whimper and cry out as the friction increased, both internally and externally. Kevan was panting eagerly, a sheen of sweat across his florid face. The Vampire bucked and twisted in his grip, closing his eyes tightly and biting down on his lips to hide the extension of his dogteeth. He fisted his erect, twitching cock more urgently and felt Kev's answering thrusts gather in speed and ferocity.

There were no words between them and no more kissing. Kev grunted rhythmically and Rayne answered with little, keening yelps of encouragement until the moment when his soft, hairless balls contracted fiercely, over and over, spilling his seed all down his naked belly. Rayne twisted himself to one side, biting the inside of his mouth until he drew a stream of thin, watery blood. His fangs were fully extended as they often got during rough sex. He kept his lips between his teeth, shuddering and groaning with his face turned away until Kev pressed deeply into him and began to cum hard, filling his colon with wet heat.

If Rayne thought that was it, then he was in for a rude awakening. Kev sprawled breathless and sweating on top of him for a few minutes then struggled to his hands and knees and rolled his slender, sexy, inebriated companion onto his belly. The Vampire groaned a little as he was pulled up on his knees and Kev's hot, wet cock probed his stretched ring again. At least he could open his mouth in this position and he did so, gasping and crying out softly as he was penetrated from behind. Kevan's hands were hot and hard on his slim hips, holding him firmly as he tugged his partner's pert bottom to meet his thrusting crotch until he was buried to the hilt inside Rayne once more.

"God, you're a good fuck," he growled quietly as he pulsed. "So tight and good. Is this what you wanted, eh? A nice big cock up the shitter?"

Rayne just nodded his head. He figured if he kept whimpering and moaning with pleasure Kev would not take too long to get off with him again but this time Kev was not so rough. He took his time over the act, clearly enjoying the chance to fuck a young man doggy-style. From time to time he let Rayne know how satisfying he was and this usually preceded a rougher, quicker style of copulation. His hands stroked eagerly up and down over his mate's thighs and bum, stretching his cheeks apart as he pounded between them, rubbing his hairy crotch in hard circles against the Vampire's exposed arse.

Rayne buried his face in his folded arms, wriggling and sighing, as he was pumped hard from behind. It had been quite some time since he was last taken this way and now that he was looser and wetter inside it felt surprisingly arousing. Kev knew how to fuck his arse, which his mate had not expected from the start. He did not rush this time and made sure that Rayne was hot and horny before he began to pound his partner's hole with more vigor. When the man pulled him up into his arms and encouraged him to "sit in my lap, baby..." Rayne submitted to him all the way.

Hot, wet lips kissed and caressed his neck and shoulders and Kevan drove up into him energetically whilst his large, powerful hands roamed across Rayne's bare chest and down between his slender thighs. The Vampire threw his head back and began to cry out with unrestrained pleasure, his extended fangs forgotten at the moment of supreme ecstasy. His balls tightened as Kev began to stroke his exposed throat and fondle between his legs, and he came with a long, low, hungry growl of need. Moments later, Kevan bucked hard into his rectum and filled him up with hot mortal seed for the second time that night.

"That cleared your head, did it?" Kev panted in his ear as they sank onto the bed together, sticky with sweat and semen. The man's hands were still stroking and caressing him eagerly.

"How d'you mean?" Rayne asked quietly, stretching the aching muscles in his slim thighs and calves as he lay on his side in the darkness and wondered what he had done with his pack of Benson & Hedges'. He always craved nicotine after a good fuck. Old habits... and all that! Sodium lighting from the street outside filtered through the mesh curtains and bronzed his sleek, hairless flesh so that he looked almost unreal; a reclining statue.

"Feelin' more sober now, eh?" Kevan suggested cynically and the Vampire turned his tousled head, alerted by his tone. He rolled onto his back, meeting steely-blue eyes across the rumpled pillows.

"A bit, yeah."

Kev laughed bitterly.

"You know... I didn't 'think' you were quite as pissed as you were leading me to believe," he remarked acerbically. "So... question is... what happens now, eh? Are you gonna bite me, Princess? Or do you kill them first?"

Rayne Wylde's ice and lime eyes widened in sudden, startled comprehension. He managed a small, strangled laugh of his own before Kevan grabbed him by the throat and pinned him to the bed, rolling all his considerable weight onto the smaller, slimmer man and crouching over him. He was panting as he groped for the canvas holdall by the bedside.

"You've got it all wrong..." Rayne managed to croak, before Kevan pulled a short, fat, cast-iron crowbar from the depths of his bag. It had a flat head like a huge nail and a chamfered tail, designed for prying up paving stones or breaking into houses. A nasty piece of kit, especially as Rayne figured Kevan had done all the breaking and entering he had planned for tonight.

The point of the jemmy was pressed into his chest just beneath the ribs where the flesh was soft and yielding. Kevan released his throat to reach into the bag again. This time he pulled out a large mallet with a heavy, cloth-wrapped head. Rayne bucked his hips upward furiously, twisting his body away from the man. The iron stake was pressed down harder. Kevan scrambled onto him, kneeling over his hips and thighs, pinning him to the bed and repositioning his weapon. He was inches off the heart. Clearly he was more adept at buggery than Vampire Slaying.

"So...." Kevan said again, breathing hard. "You wanna play at Vampires, do you?"

'Shit!' Rayne stared up at him for a moment in shock. If he let Kevan do this, it probably would not kill him but it certainly 'would' hurt like hell. That might only scare the amateur vampire hunter even more and he had no idea what else the guy had in his bag. If there was an axe this could quickly get very messy 'and' extremely uncomfortable.

When Kevan shifted to sit astride his hips and lifted the mallet, Rayne made his mind up. Bringing both knees up hard and fast, he struck the mortal in the small of the back and Kev's blow went wide. The flat head of the mallet smashed into his victim's left temple before the fingers gripping the weapon went limp and it dropped to the bare boards of the floor with a thud. Kevan rolled clear, clutching at his kidneys in agony. Very briefly, Rayne's consciousness swam. He had felt his skull crack and the warm trickle of blood that ran over his face was now turning to brownish dust. Before Kevan could scramble back onto him and hammer the iron spike through his body, he forced himself back to full awareness, blinking hard to clear his wavering vision.

"Jesus Christ, Kevan! Stop... stop it! You're making a mistake! I didn't kill them!" he exclaimed urgently. "You're in no danger from me, but if you keep on trying to stake me, I'm gonna 'have' to hurt you, sweetheart!"

"What the fuck are you?" Kev demanded, still clutching the iron spike in both hands and staring at him with mad, mistrustful eyes. "Your head... I should have opened your skull with that...."

Rayne touched nervous fingers to his temple. He had a dull, sickly ache behind the left eye but the split was already healing. His sweat-damp hair was grainy with blood-dust though.

"Just clipped me, thank Christ!" he said neutrally.

"Like fuck, I did! I heard it connect... you should be..." He faltered, already thinking his way through the logic minefield of that sentence.

'...should be dead...'

'Yeah... right. And what if he's dead to start off with?'

Rayne shook his dark head ruefully. Kevan 'knew' too much, damn him! He was smarter than he looked.

"How long have you been hunting him, Kevan? This Canal Street Vampire! How long?"

Kevan went for him, jabbing the stake at his belly hard. This time his quarry was ready though. He caught his assailant by the wrist and jerked him around fiercely, throwing him onto the bed and rolling over hard to wrench the arm with the weapon up behind him. His sheer strength often took ordinary people by surprise. Kev was clearly no exception. Sitting astride the mortal's back, Rayne caught his breath out of habit.

"Kev," he gasped desperately. "I don't wanna break your arm, but I can fuckin' well 'do' it. While we're playin' silly buggers in here, he could be out there with another victim."

"You're a liar! You would say that!" Kevan snarled at him, still struggling violently. "I 'know' it was you... I watched you with Arren at the bar... when his boy came in. Your fangs... I saw it! And again when I made you cum. It was you! You're the fuckin' Vampire!"

Rayne cursed silently, gritting his teeth, furious with himself as much as with Kevan. In a million years would he never be able to control the instinctive urge to bite when his blood was hot? It was frustrating, but also it was getting embarrassing. There were times when he didn't even dare to smile at a pretty boy or girl in case he betrayed himself.

"Okay..." he said gravely. "Yeah... you're right! I'm a Vampire, Kevan. I'm Undead, I have fangs, I hang out in gay pubs, but I'm 'not' the Canal Street Killer."

"Prove it!" Kevan was still kicking and struggling.

"If I was the killer," Rayne told him sweetly, releasing his arm, "you'd be dead by now. You wouldn't have come here with me. You wouldn't have fucked me once, let alone twice. You'd be dead and I wouldn't be hungry and pissed off with you. You know that bastard's MO, Kev! Think straight for a minute, you fuckwit! Has he got himself involved with any of his victims? No! Were any of them seen leaving or entering a building with a stranger the night they died? No! Only one victim had recently had sex, and that was with a guy the police later eliminated from their enquiries. It doesn't happen!

"Okay... next... I wasn't drunk when I left the pub. I admit it. I wanted to see what would happen and what you would tell me. I already knew the killer wasn't you."

Kevan looked at him, disheveled and still sceptical. The spike remained clutched in his fist, held between them like a broken crucifix (as if that could help him!) He seemed rather less belligerent though.

"Y...y...y..." he stammered briefly, then pulled himself together. "Your f... your teeth, they look normal again. Are you 'really' a Vampire? You're not just one of these Goth creeps with a blood fixation?"

Rayne relaxed, running his tongue slowly over the receding eyeteeth at the front corners of his upper jaw.

"D'you 'believe' in Vampires?" he asked, rolling himself lithely off the other side of the bed and rummaging around for his discarded clothing.

"N-no..." Again the mortal shook his head. "Not until tonight. I thought we had a weirdo on the loose."

Rayne flashed a glittering, sharp-edged, dangerous smile at him through the tangle of his unruly, ebony hair. Even unextended, his canines were naturally longer than the rest of his immaculate front teeth, and they glistened, spittle-wet in the light from the window now as he bestowed his most sensuous grin on the mortal. Kevan swallowed nervously in spite of the fact that he was a good handspan taller and stones heavier than this lean, boyish stranger - and armed with a pointy iron stick, to boot.

"Then I can't be one, can I?" Rayne said, wrinkling his tip-tilted nose mockingly.

"H..." Kevan's voice broke and he tried again. "How did you know it wasn't 'me'?"

Rayne Wylde shrugged himself into his sleeveless, black vest and dark, cotton shirt. He ran a hand through his untamable hair.

"Instinct.... I dunno. You didn't have that sort of bloodlust about you. You didn't seem to me like the kind of man who kills little boys and drinks their blood for fun."

He tucked the vest into his black denim hipsters and buttoned the flyer with one hand.

"Why did you come with me?" Kev reached warily for his own clothes and began to tug them on hastily over his pallid, fleshy frame.

"I was interested," Rayne told him sincerely. "I wanted to know why you followed me out. I thought you might answer some questions. And I needed the fuck!"

'I hoped you might fall asleep afterwards so I could nip your neck,' his mind added mischievously but he bit his tongue.

"You're looking for the killer?" Kevan queried, frowning at him earnestly. "But you're not a cop?"

Rayne shook his head and pulled on black socks and his ebony-suede, Cuban-heeled boots. Dark hair cascaded around the sharp angles of his pale, pretty face as he bent to this task.