Fallen Ch. 04

It is early to hunt, but I am hungry and, to be honest, the hunt has lost much of its appeal for me. I am glad that it is likely to be the last time, and want it to be over as quickly as possible.

I find myself wandering along the bank of a river, and I choose to sit at a pavement café, which overlooks the water, for a light lunch.

One of the waiters catches my eye. He is very dark, and I would not be surprised if he has Spanish blood. He smiles at me, with teeth that are very white, contrasting with his flashing chocolate eyes, and raven curls. We flirt during dinner, and when he brings me my coffee, I ask what time he finishes work. Shyly, he volunteers that it will be within the hour, so we arrange to meet near the bridge.

There is a bar nearby, with shady and secluded booths, open to the air at this time of year, and with a wonderful view of the river.

I sip a cold drink and watch the word go by.

As I do so, my attention is caught by a large, black car that pulls into the kerb, at the other side of the road. I can't see what is happening on the other side of the car, but when, a few moments later it screeches off, it leaves a young man scrabbling on the ground for pieces of paper, which are scattered around him. I smile. How interesting.

Leaving my drink, I hurry over to help him. I catch a ten pound note, which has blown into the road, and he flinches defensively when I hand it to him. Hmm... good choice, Luma. The boy is glorious. He is not as beautiful as Aqua but, with his red gold hair, and eyes that are an unusual shade of emerald green, it is close. His face is disfigured by a large ugly bruise, but bruises fade.

I find myself reaching out, to lightly brush the bruise on his face, with my fingers. He shies away.

"It's alright. You don't have to be afraid of me. I was just wondering who would have been so foolish as to mar such beauty, in so ugly and brutal a way."

The boy frowns."It's none of your business."

"You're right. It's not. Your pardon, I was rude and overly familiar. If you are alright, and have recovered what was lost, then I will take my leave, and apologise for bothering you at what is clearly a difficult time for you."

He stops and stares at me. I smile back warmly.

"You know what I am." He says flatly and turns away. I put a gentle hand on his arm. I have no intention of letting him get away, but I would prefer to treat him with gentleness. That way he will settle to the life more easily, and I have a promise to keep.

"You are young and beautiful and in pain. You are lost and hopeless, and you do what you can to live for another day. I think you are strong and brave, and your beauty dazzles me. Will you let me help you?"

He stares at me nervously, for a moment, then sneers. "What can you do to help me?"

"You would be surprised. What would you say if I told you that I could offer you a home, companionship, a warm bed, regular meals, clothes and a chance to study and learn?"

"I would say that you are a liar, and wonder what you really have in mind for me." He looks anxious now, and his eyes are darting around, noting escape routes.

"What I have in mind for you, is exactly what I have said."

"And what would you expect from me in return?"

"No more than anyone else who pays for your services. I will take you into my home, share what I have, and take you to an ecstasy you never imagined existed, and all I ask in return is that you grace my bed when it pleases me."

He stares at me, through narrowed eyes. "How do I know you're not going to hurt me?"

"You don't. But I swear to you that I never will."

He runs his eyes over me, weighing up the way I look, the way I speak, the sincerity in my face, shining through my eyes. He looks scared but desperate, and his fingers rise uncertainly to his cheek.

"I..."

Knowing I have already won, I move closer and cover his hand with mine. He winces, but doesn't pull away. Slowly and gently I take him into my arms. He resists, but not too much. When he is encircled by my arms, he starts to shake and cry.

"Hush now. There is no need to cry. There is no need to cry anymore. You are safe now." He looks up at me with pleading, frightened eyes, which are even more beautiful now they are bright with tears. I smile gently, but he can't return it. He is so frightened. I don't blame him.

Raising my hand, I brush the hair away from his face, and bury my fingers in it. Although it is dirty and tangled, it still feels soft under my hands. The boy shivers, and allows me to tilt back his head, exposing his throat. I ponder my options. I am hungry, but I don't want to feed in the open, in broad daylight. As much as I want it, it is going to have to wait. Instead I run my thumbs down his neck, on either side, releasing a very carefully controlled amount of venom. The boy shudders, and his eyes flicker. I watch awareness and, more importantly will, fade, but not to the point where he is in danger of losing consciousness.

I put my arm around him and steer him gently off the road, towards the bridge. In the shade underneath the bridge, I kiss him and he responds eagerly. He is an accomplished kisser, more so than most of the boys I have taken. I can imagine what he will feel, and smell, like when he is clean, and Chancey has worked his magic.

As he presses against me, I feel his inevitable arousal pressing against my leg. "What do you want, little one? What do you want of me right now?"

"Take me. Take me, please. I... I need..."

"I know what you need," I whisper into his ear, as I press him back against the wall, and start to kiss his neck. "Tell me."

I let my hand trail down to rest on his hip, my thumbs pressing deeply into his abdomen, finding pressure points that make his legs tremble, and his body twitch. He gasps, and throws his head back, giving me even more access to his throat.

"Tell me what you want."

"You," he gasps. "I want you."

"What do you want me to do?"

"Touch me."

"Touch you? Here?" I let one hand wander down to brush his arousal, on the outside of his trousers.

"Yes... yes there..."

"Like this?" He moans, pathetically, as I massage him, and lets his head fall forward onto my shoulder. "You don't get this very often do you? You don't have people pleasuring you."

"No."

"Do you like it, little one?"

"Yes... oh yes." He gives a little cry, as I slip my hand down inside his trousers, and start to massage his hot flesh, with long slow strokes. With my other hand, I stroke his hair, soothing him.

"Do you want me to keep on doing this?"

"Yes," he snaps, anxiously looking up at me, as if expecting me to stop. I don't.

"Do you want me to do this to you many times?"

"Yes." He is hopeful now.

"Every day?"

"Yes."

"And what if I said I would give you this and more, much, much more... what would you give me in return?"

I brush my thumb over his glans, and he groans deeply. "Anything," he gasps. "Anything."

"What about everything?" I ask softly, speeding up my strokes.

"Yes. Yes, everything. Everything I have."

"All I want is you," I murmur, as I press myself against him, leaving room for my hand to speed up. He makes a strained little sound, gasping with anticipation, as he starts to shake and clings to me.

"Ssh now. Ssh, little one. It's going to be alright. It will all be alright."

"Ah...ah..." he gasps as his balls tighten in preparation for release.

When I slide my fangs into his throat, he is already lost; his body pumping with his orgasm, his mind slipping beneath the blanket of my venom. He tastes sweet, very sweet. He is young, possibly the youngest of my boys, late teens at most, and yet I can taste despair in his blood, deep depression and a hopelessness that would have ended his life soon, one way or another. There is sickness there too, diseases that he has picked up through casual sex, and life on the streets. And a deeper, more insidious sickness, that has very, very nearly extinguished his light. That is no problem for me, however. It does not taint the feed, and it will soon be washed from his body by my essence and Chancey's unique talents.

For now, I take a little, enough to slake my thirst and leave him undamaged. Then, I withdraw letting him remain clinging to me, his head on my shoulder.

"What are you?" he whispers, when he is able to speak.

"Your saviour."

"Am I still... as I was?"

"Still human? Yes, and you will remain so, although as long as you are with me, and as long as you receive my blood regularly, you will not age."

"Will you hurt me... kill me?"

"I promise that you will be safe with me."

"What does the promise of a... a... How can I trust you?"

"Because I am a vampire?"

He raises his head and nods anxiously.

"If I had wanted to kill you then you would be dead. I need to feed and I prefer to do it in the throes of pleasure. I do not seek to feed from any one person enough to harm them, and so I maintain a group of boys at my home, from whom I feed in rotation. In the meantime, you are taken care of and are free to love between yourselves, as long as you are always prepared for my needs.

"I will never hurt you, and my venom will provide you with pleasure that you can only imagine. You will be safe, and warm, and cared for. There is plenty of food, a warm bed to sleep in, a doctor to care for you if you are sick. There is a library where you can read..."

"Please don't... don't say any more. I can't bear it. Please... please take me there."

I smile at him and stroke his cheek, where the bruise is already beginning to fade. "In a little while. I have something else to do first. Someone else to collect. Wait for me here."

He grabs my arm, as I turn away. "Promise you will come back."

"I promise."

"You won't leave me, not now?"

I turn back and smile at him. "I promise," I whisper as I kiss him, and breathe into him a little, just enough to cause him to crumple to the ground and sleep... just sleep, until I return for him.

I am sitting back at my table by the time my beautiful Spanish boy arrives. He stands by the table and looks down at me, shyly.

"Please, be seated."

Over drinks I learn that he is, indeed Spanish, working as a waiter to help pay himself through University, where he is in his third year of a degree in medicine. I smile; Chancey will like this one. He informs me, with regret, that he does not have many friends, as his busy life does not leave room for them. This is good. Although it has never bothered me in the slightest that one of my boys might be missed, it is easier to take those who will not be missed and, more importantly, will not have anything or anyone to miss.

As we drink, and I notice that he is careful not to take too much alcohol, I brush his hand with mine often, releasing a tiny amount of my enzyme into his blood. Bit by bit, entirely unnoticed by him, he falls further and further under my thrall. He is genuinely good company; witty, intelligent, bright. He will rail for a while against his situation, but, once he sees the possibilities, he will become enamoured with the opportunity, and will soon appreciate what I can offer him.

Chancey will handle his anger, and by the time I see him again, he will be complacent. I will make sure of it.

After a time, he falls silent, unable to focus on conversation. I move my chair closer to his and slip my arm around his waist. We watch the light on the river together. He rests his head on my shoulder and I stroke his neck. Eventually, he is so intoxicated, not by the alcohol but by me, that he no longer knows where he is, or who he is, or what he wants. He no longer cares.

I murmur close to his ear. "Are you ready to go now?"

"Go? Where?" He is not really curious. His eyes are glazed and he is incapable of rational thought.

I caress his cheek and smile into his eyes. "You are coming home with me. I am going to take care of you now."

He smiles distantly. "Oh. Okay. Is it far?"

"No, not far, not far at all."

I get to my feet and help him to his. He only sways a little. I leave enough to cover our drinks, with a hefty tip, on the table and then, with my arm around his waist, I lead him across the road to the bridge.

"Wait here." I command and then go to collect my other catch, who wakes at a touch, smiling into my eyes and willingly giving me his hand. For once, this makes me sad. What could have happened to this beautiful boy, that he would so willingly throw his life away on someone such as me? He knows. I see in his eyes that he knows and understands, and yet still he comes willingly.

I stroke his hair lovingly, and he looks confused for a moment then tries a hesitant, shaky smile. With my hand in the small of his back, I draw him close and kiss him. Whilst I usually breathe intoxication into my boys, that is not all I can do, and this time I breathe sunshine. When I lift my head he is glowing with it.

"What... what did you do?" he asks, his eyes glazed, not with intoxication but with joy.

"I gave you a taste of what you can expect in your life from now on. You will not have your freedom and you will be subject to my desires, but I am not a harsh master." ('now' I add silently to myself) "I will take care of you and whatever I take from you will be paid for with ecstasy."

His eyes are enormous, mesmerised by my words, and not because I have exerted any control. "I think that you have not had an easy life." He flinches and tries to look away. "That is over now. You are with me and you will be taken care of. No more worries; no more stress; no more struggle. No more lying with sweating old men, exposed to pain and disease by the dregs of this sick society."

He gasps, and shakes his head. "No. I can't. I am... I have... I can't go with you." He half turns away, his face twisted with pain, but I turn him back.

"I know that you are sick. I can heal you."

He shakes his head, sadly, and lets it fall forward in shame. "No one can," he whispers.

"No human can." I correct, and he looks up again with desperate hope in his eyes. "I am not asking you to follow me, so that I can make your last days comfortable, little one. Have I not told you that my blood in your veins will extend your life? It will scour from you any sickness or disease you have and you will not have to suffer for another day."

"But I can't... there's no cure."

I can't help but smile, and ruffle his hair. "You are in no place to understand, little one, but I promise you that if you take a little from me every day, if you let me take from you, then within the week you will be strong and well."

"It is possible for you?"

"It is more than possible for me. Let me show you."

Before he can react, I take his hand and turn it palm upward, then smoothly slide a knife from my belt and slash lightly across it. The cut is shallow, but it makes him cry out in shock.

"Ssh, little one. Trust me."

I raise his hand to my lips, keeping my eyes locked with his shocked ones, and lap at the droplets of blood that are squeezing out of the wound. Gradually I work my tongue up from one end to the other. Then I repeat. By the end of the second time, there is no blood. By the end of the third time there is no wound. He stares at his hand when I release it, turning it over and touching the palm with his fingers.

"Was it real? Was there really a cut there?"

"Did it feel as if there was?"

"Yes... I felt the pain, saw the blood."

"Then it was. And trust me, if I can heal that with just a touch of my tongue, I can heal whatever assails your body." I stroke his temple. "And your mind." He smiles, a completely open smile and nods his head.

"Are you ready to go home?"

"Oh yes. Yes I am."

He follows me up onto the path, where we find my Spanish boy leaning against a lamp post, with his eyes closed, humming a song tunelessly under his breath.

"Who is he?" There is no jealousy in his voice, merely curiosity.

"He is my second catch tonight."

"Is that what I am, a catch?" There is a light teasing tone in his voice, that is so refreshing it makes me smile.

I reach out and stroke his hair. "Oh yes little one, beautiful boy, you are quite a catch."

Supporting the intoxicated Spanish boy, one on each, side; my beautiful boy; whom I name Bridge, much to his amusement; and I meander our way home. It astonishes him when we cross the bridge to find, not the other side of the river but the gate to my estate.

"Where is this?"

"It is my home."

"I know but... where is it?"

"That is not so simple to explain. It is here, but not here, tucked into a fold in the blanket of existence which exists everywhere and nowhere at the same time." I chuckle. "But time has no meaning here. Come and meet your new family."

I hand Bridge and Mario over to Chancey. As I walk away, I turn, to find Bridge staring after me with a look of loss on his face. I smile at him.

"You can trust Chancey, Bridge. He will look after you. I'll see you tomorrow, and every day after that, at least until you are well. This is your home now, and all the boys are your family. They will love you as I do." He smiles brightly and nods, going willingly with Chancey towards the baths.

I have a feeling that he will soon be very much a part of the family and everyone will love him deeply. Somewhere under the pain and distrust, there is a sunny personality, and a truly beautiful soul. I can taste it.