The Brotherhood 2: Bite Me Page 8

  Julian smiled again, “I think not,” he said. His hand blurred forward again, far too fast to see, and --

  Bree came to, lying flat on his back, laid to rest on something soft and silky. Soft, like a bed. His head ached as if he’d been bashed across the skull with a lead pipe. Damn, but Julian moves fast. Hits hard, too. Gotta remember that.

  He licked his lips and found them so dry that bits of skin were flaking off. Not a good sign. “How long was I out?” he muttered.

  “Only a few minutes,” Julian’s voice responded without pause. “You are a tough one, aren’t you?”

  “Kind of known for it.”

  “As I suspected. No, don’t move. You may vomit. I seem to recall that humans who take such a blow tend to have uneasy stomachs, and frankly, recycled orange juice is not the sort of fluid I care to have on this bed.”

  Bree laughed.

  “What’s funny?”

  “Nothing. Just thinking. You say you’re a vampire. It’s just funny to me that you probably wouldn’t mind spilling a few pints of blood, but you get all prissy at the thought of a little sick-up.”

  He heard Julian chuckle. “Yes, well, we all have our weaknesses, don’t we?” A cool hand brushed his forehead. Despite himself, Bree moved into the touch. “You, for example, are still mortal and fragile as the rest of your kind. Yes, I said ‘fragile.’ I used the least part of my strength and down you went, easy as falling off a log. You can’t best me in a fight, Bree. Yet somehow I don’t doubt you’d keep trying if I let you.

  “So, I won’t let you. I chose you. Even if I could stop the changes taking place in your body, which I have no desire to do, I would not. Live with them. Die from them. Then rise again, and walk by my side.”

  Bree cracked up.

  “This is funny?” Julian sounded fascinated.

  “Well, yeah. I know I’m going to die tonight, sure. But give me a break. Come back to life? Walk by your side? Kind of hard to do when you’re dead, Julian.”

  “Not really. After all, I am dead. I have been dead for centuries. I walk, talk, dance, and ...” The cool hand brushed across Bree’s cheek, down his neck, and teased at the collar of his mesh shirt. “... I fuck, too.”

  “I was hoping to end up in bed with you,” Bree said thoughtfully. “Different circumstances, of course. There was a lot less talking and a lot more being naked, rolling around, and groping in my fantasy.”

  “That could still happen, you know.”

  “Right.” Bree struggled to open his eyes. They felt gummy, the lids heavy, but he managed it. “Julian, you might be pure sex on a stick, but I’m not too inclined to roll over for you right now. Even if I could.” His stomach twisted. “Ow!” he yelped before he could stop it. Embarrassed, he snapped, “So what did you do? Poison that juice?”

  “Bree, don’t act the fool. Of course I didn’t poison your drink. Your body is dying, that’s all.”

  “Oh. Well, if that’s all ...” Bree shook his head in spite of the instant pain when he moved it. He weighed his options. Didn’t know what dying felt like, but this might well be the real thing. He’d been bled, his skull was cracked open, and he was sitting in a bed with a man who had a mouth like a raptor and who claimed to be a walking corpse with the power of resurrection.

  Death might not be such a bad option. Looked like the only way out. Bree had always known someone carried a bullet with his name on it; he’d just been waiting for what seemed like a long time now for the day it was finally fired at him

  The bed shifted again as Julian leaned closer. “Bree ...” he said, voice still sending a thrill down Bree’s spine, “don’t be afraid. You have never been happy with life, have you? I saw it in your eyes when I visited you at that awful business. Tonight, you danced with the fervor of a man who had nothing left to lose. You nearly killed your ex without a moment’s regret.”

  “Yeah, well, he had it coming.”

  “You see? I think you were made to be found by one of my kind. Meant to be one of us. I count myself very, very lucky that our paths crossed.”

  Bree snorted. “So, you’re that damn sure I’m gonna turn into a vampire?”

  “I know you will,” Julian said simply. “These are hard times for us, with modern surveillance and intelligent policemen, but those of us who are capable have adjusted our ways. We hunt, but do not kill, and we thrall to make our feeding nothing but pleasure for the prey. They wake up injured and woozy, but not afraid, and never suspecting a vampire bit them.” Julian chuckled. “As you say, that is fairy-tale rubbish.”

  He stroked Bree’s chest, idly toying with his nipples under the mesh. Bree sucked in a breath. It rattled in his lungs. Damn. Guess I am dying.

  Huh.

  Well, if I do come back to life, first thing I’m gonna do is beat the shit out of Julian, sex god or not. If I don’t ... well, I think I know how I want to make my grand exit.

  “-- so much I can teach you,” Julian was going on, his fingers roving ever further downward on Bree. “Hidden pleasures of the Charleston night, where to find the sweetest blood, how to use your mind, as well as the power in your fists, to control others, and --”

  “Hey, Julian,” Bree interrupted. “Shut up.”

  Julian jerked to a stop. His hands ceased their roving. “Pardon me?” He sounded genuinely shocked, something that made Bree grin despite his growing weakness.

  Bree licked his lips. “Does the dying man get a last request?”

  Julian looked puzzled. “I -- I have not done so much before, but I suppose, given the situation ...” He trailed off. “Yes. Yes, although bear in mind that I will not let you go. Aside from that, what do you want?”

  “Dumb ass.” Bree shook his head. He managed to lift one hand and press down on Julian’s arm. “I want you. Fuck me to death, and take that as literally as you like. That’s what I want. If I’m going down, I want it to be with a bang, not a whimper.”

  Silence. Bree glanced up to see Julian staring at him. “You amaze me,” he said after a moment.

  “Yeah, I’m just all that and a bag of corn chips. You gonna give me what I want?” Bree arched his hips up with an effort. “Come on. I’ve wanted you since I first saw you. Do me to death.”

  Julian’s eyes glowed with a sudden heat. “Only you, Bree,” he whispered. “Our living death together will be a glorious thing. Yes. I will do as you ask. But I have no taste for rape, and your body would not enjoy penetration right now, no matter how much you want it.”

  “Spoilsport.”

  “Not so!” Julian grinned ferally at him. “Do you trust me not to bite?”

  “Huh?”

  Julian’s hands moved to Bree’s zipper. “I asked, do you trust me not to bite?” Without waiting for an answer, he pulled Bree’s fly open and slid the jeans down his thighs. Bree’s cock stood at half-mast yet, determined that no matter what, it was by God going to have its fun before the end.

  Bending his head, Julian gave Bree’s partial erection a long, lingering lick with the flat of his tongue. Bree gasped with the shock to his system as his cock swelled, and the blood he had left in him rushed to points south. Made him dizzy as all hell, but oh, God, the rush that came with his arousal was better than any street drug. He lifted shaking hands and threaded them into Julian’s thick mane of hair. “Go on,” he ordered. “I don’t think it matters so much if you bite me now, so long as you don’t take it off.”

  Julian gave a small laugh, the vibrations tingling against Bree’s cock, tingling, making him harder still. “Trust me when I tell you not to worry about castration,” he said, cupping Bree’s balls with his free hand. “I plan on enjoying this magnificent prick for a very long time to come.”

  “Best go ahead and get started, then.”

  “Yes,” Julian murmured, “I think you are right ...”

  He pounced. Bree let out a short scream and arched his back up despite the sharp pain shooting through all his muscles. Oh, God! Oh, fuck, oh, God, oh, hell, Julian! He’d ha
d his share of blowjobs, but never anything like what Julian could do with his mouth. That cool tongue was everywhere -- licking down the length of his cock, tapping up the big vein, probing his slit, and then, oh, yes, taking him all in until he bumped the back of Julian’s throat, surrounded by cool, wet tightness.

  Then Julian swallowed.

  Bree howled. Not once, but twice, then again. The noise ripped out of him, primal and wild as a jungle cat’s roar. He couldn’t stop, and he didn’t want to. Julian’s throat worked his cock, squeezing tighter than any hole he’d ever plunged into, ripping around him like ocean waves, each one washing him further up toward one hell of an orgasm.

  Then he felt it -- the prickle of teeth. Just little pinpricks, but still enough to draw blood from an organ engorged with the stuff. Didn’t hurt. Or, no, it did hurt -- but the pain was better than any pleasure Bree had ever felt before. “More,” he managed to gasp. “Harder, you god-damned liar. Bite me!”

  Julian’s laughter rippled around his cock, throat spasming. Bree let out a long, drawn-out wail of bliss. “Come on,” he panted. “What are you waiting for? Do it!”

  Cool fingers rolled his balls together, slipped down to press against his perineum and twist his guiche piercing, and then teased up toward his ass. Bree felt Julian’s lips smile around his cock as he drew back to nuzzle into the crook of Bree’s thigh, and --

  The vampire bit.

  Bree’s back bowed up hard enough to practically crack his spine. Blood flowed out, thick and hot. Then, with a mighty spasm and an explosion of light, he came, blasting into Julian’s mouth in heavy gouts, mixing his seed with the flood from his veins. The orgasm went on and on, Bree’s hips jerking fast and frantic. He thought it might never stop, and God, he didn’t want it to!

  But it did come to an end at last. Bree sagged back onto the bed, gasping for air but half-choking on it, as if it were too rich. As if his lungs couldn’t take it. “Yeah,” he choked out. “This is how -- I wanted to go -- when I had to -- yeah. Good.”

  Julian sat up, face smeared with blood and come. He smiled at Bree with that twisted mouth. Put his hand over Bree’s heart, which was stuttering to a halt. Hurt like fucking hell, but somehow that didn’t matter.

  Bree found himself grinning. “Damn ... you,” he managed. “And ... thanks.”

  Julian leaned to kiss Bree’s forehead. “Let go,” he whispered. “It’s almost finished. Relax your hold on life. Die to live again. Do you see the black, coming on quick as night? Walk toward it, Bree. Dive into the darkness, with my hands upon you, and wake to the glory of the night.”

  Bree shook his head. “Can’t,” he rasped. He was done already. He’d accepted his death. But damn that body of his, it kept on fighting. “Can’t!”

  “Then let me help you once again.” Julian pressed a finger to Bree’s lips. “No pain, I promise you. No pain.”

  He nuzzled his way into the side of Bree’s neck, the side he hadn’t wounded before. Bree felt the wet flicker of Julian’s tongue, felt a soft, painless crunch, and then felt a sudden rush, as if the world were falling away and he was tumbling into space.

  He saw the darkness. The absence of light and life that Julian had mentioned. And he moved toward it, head held high. “Fuck you, death,” he whispered. Felt his lips curve into a brazen grin. “Try me on for size. I’m ready.”

  And, with a last rattle of breath, Bree died.

  Chapter Eight

  So this is Hell. Mama always did say I’d end up here when I passed on. Guess she was right.

  Guess I did go out with a bang, huh? Gotta hand it to Julian -- he sent me on this particular trip the way I always wanted to go. Talk about the fuck of a lifetime, man. Thing is, I don’t think that memory’s gonna comfort me for long down here.

  Hell. It’s an interesting place to visit, but I don’t much think I want to stay long. Yet, anyway.

  Wonder why I’m not afraid? Might just be me being all kinds of contrary even now, or maybe, just maybe, it’s part of what Julian did to me. Maybe this is like coming home for a visit. Nothing scares you in your own home, if it’s where you know you belong.

  The trip had been ... well, different. Bree had ridden all kinds of cars, planes, motorbikes. He’d even gone bungee-jumping. God, he loved the rush of wind through his hair in a total free-fall. The blast of adrenaline he got when he thought -- as he figured no one could help but think -- Is the safety net gonna kick in, or is this the end?

  He’d gloried in screaming as he fell from the heavens, his own imitation of Lucifer, bright as the Morning Star, plunging forever down and down and down ...

  Thing was, this time, he’d come to a most definite, not to mention damned painful, stop on terra-sort-of-firma. From what Bree could see, he appeared to be standing on a hardened but still red-hot plate of lava flow.

  Huh. He had eyes. And yeah, feet, too. Feet that he could pick up and move, despite the fact that he should have been glued in place with his soles melted to the lava. He patted himself down and discovered the rest of his body had come along for the ride, vampire bites and all, still oozing trickles of fresh blood.

  He also happened to be stark naked, with a hard-on that made him damned proud to look at. Bree couldn’t help but whoop out a shout of laughter that rang to Hell’s rafters and back. He might be damned to eternal torment, but he was still number one with his cock!

  And, oh, yes, he had ended up in Hell itself, no mistake. A glance around was all he needed to see more than he’d ever wanted to. Naked, fishy-white bodies stuck on pitchforks, with things that had horns and beaks, eating out their guts. Pillars of fire with people just visible, screaming out their agony as it burned but never consumed their flesh. Barry Manilow playing at high volume, Muzak version.

  Yep. Definitely Hell.

  No fire for Bree, though, and the first devil to approach him with a pointy thing backed off in a real hurry when Bree snarled and flipped it off. Huh. The power of a good old-fashioned “fuck off” seemed to come in handy still.

  Curious, he padded forward off the lava and onto a path of sharp-edged rocks. He felt each one’s razor-keen edge without ever getting a cut. After a moment’s pause, Bree shrugged it off and walked on, tall and proud. Not that he was completely certain, but he was beginning to think Julian might have been right: Bree was tougher than anything on Hell and Earth.

  He passed by many a curiosity, standing to watch for a bit, or not, as he chose. Seemed to be a lot of people who’d ended up drowning for eternity in pools of filthy water, bloated bodies forever struggling and spluttering, not quite breaking the surface. Every so often, he saw someone lashed to a table, while chattering beasts plunged wicked daggers into their soft bits and cut off their cocks to eat -- cocks that grew right back, over and over. He even saw one woman dancing naked on a bed of broken mirror glass. She might have been beautiful once, but wasn’t anymore.

  Funny thing, though, none of it held his attention for longer than a few seconds. His feet itched to travel on, and he let them. Why not? Might be there was a reason for needing to keep on the move. He’d trusted his instincts on when to run before. When he’d listened, he’d gotten off clean. When he’d let his cock or his heart blindside him, he’d ended up brokenhearted or, apparently, dead.

  That was another thing to consider. Julian had made good on his word and killed Bree. Oughtn’t he to be just a little pissed off at the vampire? Bree tilted his head in thought as he walked. Nope, not even a flicker of anger. Just curiosity. Why now? Why me? What happens next?

  He suspected he’d soon find out.

  Wonder how fast I’m movin’? Bree felt like he was going at a normal pace, but the torments around him had started to blur as he passed by, faster and faster, until they were no more than smears against a stretch of infinite and utterly black space that stretched on forever. The rocks grew sharper under his feet, but still did not open him up. The only blood he spilled came from his bite marks, dribbling away. Crimson runnels made patterns do
wn his throat and chest as the flow grew heavier, but he didn’t stop to wipe them off.

  He kind of thought they looked pretty.

  Still chuckling to himself at that notion, Bree didn’t see the path come to a stop. He noticed when he jerked to a halt, though, hard and fast as if he’d plowed into a brick wall. Still not scared, only curious, he looked up.

  And up.

  And up some more.

  Well, now, there was a sight to put the fear of God in anyone who wasn’t Bree. Fifty feet tall or more, even sitting, the biggest fucking demon he’d seen yet sat on a throne made of skulls. Dry, bleached bones whose mouths still moved, opening up to scream and wail. The demon himself distracted Bree from the thing’s choice of throne, though. He stared, curious.

  Like Julian, it had two forms, but it shifted back and forth between them, like a TV station caught between channels. The one that was more clearly visible was a monster, skin dark purple and scaly, twisted into hard knots of scarring and raised veins, and thick with muscle, bulging with rage, jagged teeth, tusks, and eyes like twin coals. Blink for a second, and the demon changed into a manlike creature so beautiful that looking at him hurt. He shone with a pure white light that radiated from his curling blond hair, violet eyes, and smooth, luminous skin. Tears ran down his flawless cheeks.

  Bree figured he knew who this was. He still wasn’t scared. Felt like he was dropping by for a visit to his daddy somehow. “Satan,” he said casually. “What’s up, you old fucker?”

  The monster snarled. “Insolence,” it said with a voice like gravel in a crusher. “You dare?”

  “Oh, suck my cock. I’m not scared of you. You might be ugly, but to be honest, I’ve had worse blind dates, so forgive me for not falling down in fear. Nice chair, by the way. You make that yourself?”

  Bree grinned, running his tongue over his own set of sharp teeth, as Lucifer sputtered and fumed. “Creature of mud!” it spat. “From dust you came, to dust you will return, and then you belong to me.”