DeVante's Coven (22 page)

Totally awkward again, Daniel’s back on the bench, spine bowed upward, hands still hanging in the cuffs. He watched Leonard fiddle with the toy belt, and it dropped to the floor. Then Leonard came to stand over Daniel, legs straddling both the bench and Daniel’s body, his mouth a strange and bitter sneer.

“Oh, Daniel, you are beautiful.” Leonard crooned as he fiddled with a pocket sewn into the leg of his leather chaps. “So, so perfect. It’s a shame.” A brilliant glint caught Daniel’s eye as a thin knife blade appeared in Leonard’s hand. “It’s almost a pity to have to mar such a perfect face.”

Daniel’s stomach coiled in horror, and the safe word came to him immediately. “Code red, you fucker, don’t you even try to cut me.”

Leonard laughed. “Ah, code red, you silly little boy—do you think that’s going to get you out of this? Do you think that would have freed you from any of it? Now hold still—all my slaves get a little something to remember me by.” And faster then Daniel could react, the blade was against his cheek.

Daniel felt his flesh yield to the blade, felt blood rush down his face. He sucked in a breath and jerked his arms forward.

The bolt holding the chains and manacles to the wall came free and swung through the air, catching Leonard in the face. Daniel let the momentum swing him forward, propelling him off the bench, and he landed on top of Leonard, fangs instinctively seeking the throat and locking on. While he drank, he tore the cuffs off his wrists.

He drank and drank and drank, feeling the blood rejuvenate his muscles and skin, knowing he would be completely healed before he even got home. He could taste Leonard’s cruelty, the pleasure he gained from inflicting pain, and Leonard’s racing thoughts filled Daniel’s head the same time his blood filled Daniel’s body. Thoughts of pain, sadism—satisfaction that he’d gone further than Daniel could handle. Daniel’s fury only fueled his hunger; he knew Leonard would die and he did not care. When Leonard’s heart slowed, Daniel tore himself away, quickly slid into his jeans, and fled up the stairs.

He burst out the apartment door just as Reed was coming in. Fuck!

He crashed into Reed, spinning him around, then ran like hell. Reed’s voice came after him, “Daniel!” but Daniel was crazed and bloodied, and couldn’t let Reed see him like this.

Tears streamed from his eyes as he ran, and he could feel the skin of his face tightening, healing. His face would still be perfect, he’d still be beautiful, for even the scars of Katarina’s claws from the night he was made only existed now as faint white lines.

Thoughts pounded in his head as his feet pounded the pavement.
Again. Again. Again
. He’d killed again. Every time was the same horror of the first time, that he’d killed with pleasure and without remorse, no matter that the world wouldn’t miss Leonard, that all the pretty young things were that much safer. Daniel had expunged the man’s existence with purpose and intent and without a single moment’s hesitation.

Chapter 26



How to catch a memory

That evening Tony sat on the floor in Roderick’s room, leaning his back and head against the wall. He stared at Roderick’s still form on the bed and felt a void where sleep and dreaming used to be, the ability to surrender, to escape his racing thoughts.

Everything had been so whirlwind bizarre that he’d hadn’t found any way to relax. He didn’t know how long it would be until Roderick woke up, so he closed his eyes, cleared his mind, and tried to let something helpful seep into his head.

He rested like that for a while—first trying to remember things, but then just trying to think about nothing, don’t think about pink elephants, and such. He filled his head with gray static, and it must have worked, because when Roderick pounced on him, he jumped about a mile. “Christ, you scared the life out of me!”

“I never even thought of that,” Roderick mused. “But all the teeny-boppers and everyone else has them—I swear every human in the world has them now, just in the last couple of years—long after I ever needed anything like that. They barely existed when I was mortal. Good idea. Let’s do that, as soon as we get home.”

“Home?” Tony asked, feeling himself go still. “This is my home.”

“Nah,” Roderick said, and scowled a bit. “I meant San Francisco—home is wherever DeVante is. He takes care of us. He takes care of everything.”

“I can take care of things for you,” Tony shrugged. “Us. Remember? I stay awake.”

“We’ll figure it out,” Roderick said. “After we’re done with this… this thing we have to do. Any ideas?”

Tony closed his eyes. Had he been dreaming? There had been… something… floating in the gray fog of his head just before Roderick had landed on him—some important detail… something significant, unusual. He rolled his shoulders, tried to relax… and what came to him was plush carpeting so thick his feet sunk into it… white? Sand colored? He wasn’t sure. And then his face pressed against something, something with folds, then an opening… a robe. Sudden terror, and he hitched in his breath, his offer rejected, and the man—he had a name, he did, but Tony couldn’t catch that, and knew somehow it wasn’t going to come to him just now. But the robe, it was significant… and then he had it. “I got it!” He exclaimed, and opened his eyes to see Roderick staring out the window, hands curled into fists, maybe from the effort of keeping still.

He took his own contact lenses out of his eyes and secured them in the case.

Opened up the other case. The lens inside was light blue with a black center. Like an eyeball. Tony shuddered. Creepy. Especially creepy considering he had brown eyes. He put one in his left eye. Then closed his right. Complete blackness. He arranged the other lens on his finger and prepared to put it in his right eye. When it settled into place he was blind. He groped for the case that held his own lenses. Gripped it in his palm.

“
Okay,” he said, turning around. He took a step forward and then another, feeling for the door.

“
It’s open,” said the musical voice of the girl.

“
Here.” Tony held out the lens case. “Check that my own are in there, please?”

“
They are. I’ll put them with your clothes. Now don’t speak again.”

She tipped his face toward the ceiling. He flinched as he felt her fingers pulling at his lower eyelid. “Shh, hold still. I have to check.” He tried not to fight her as she examined his eyes, actually sliding the contacts a bit to the side to see that he had inserted the opaque lenses. When she was satisfied she led him back to the soft carpeting. She left him and he felt alone.

The bodies around him seemed to be moving. Something brushed his neck and the chain pulled tight, too tight, and he struggled, but just for a moment. A hand crept between his legs and cradled him there, and the shock of cold fingers made him go still.

“
Smart boys do not move.” There was no voice, only a cruel whisper.

Tony understood instantly that defiance would get him strangled. He relaxed. The hand let go of him, the chain slackened and he could breathe. “There’s a good boy.” The chain tightened again. “Come to me,” said the whisper, and Tony allowed himself to be led by the chain. He counted thirteen steps and then stopped counting. His cock was hard. He was a slave being led by a choke collar.

He was getting paid for this perfect experience. Wow.

“
Halt.”

Tony stopped walking. Arched his back as hands dragged through his hair, traced his cheek and his jaw.

A wet tongue outlined his mouth and was gone.

Then nothing.

He waited.

Waited.

Nothing.

A glimmer of understanding. The man was waiting for Tony to do something.

He did what he came here to do.

He dropped to his knees. Licked his own lips.

Harsh laughter rang out. “You think it’s that easy, do you?”

Tony did not speak. Smart boys were quiet.

“
You want me to believe, you are begging me to believe, that you are so innocent. You want me to believe I am corrupting you. You are asking me to believe that you are here by some force rather than some choice. Stupid boy. You want to suck my cock? You want to suck me dry? Well.”

Laughter again. Tony felt a chill. His lower lip trembled. A huge lump formed in his throat.

He was caught behind the head and his face pulled into the man’s crotch. He breathed the scent of pubic sweat. The cock was hard. It was huge. It thudded against his face like a stubbed log. Tony had the irrational thought that it was probably the biggest cock in the world.

The voice. “Well. I am going to spread your sweet innocent ass open and fuck you.” The voice was evil.

Tony was instantly terrified. He felt a scream form in his throat. It took all of his will to hold it back.

“
It will break you open and tear your soul apart.”

Tony’s own penis sagged. Terrified tears leaked from his eyes and wet his cheeks.

The man gripped his hair and pulled him to his feet. The hand slipped between his legs, cradled his balls, squeezed him gently. Tony held his breath. Another hand brushed his lower back, fingers tracing the well between his buttocks. The whisper.

“
But not just now. Later, so you’ll have something to look forward to.”

Tony was released. He stood, petrified, in a corner somewhere all alone. He could hear rustles and whispers and moans. The party was starting.

Roderick was still laughing when they went out to the street. “Monstrously abnormal, grossly huge, able to rip apart a boy in one easy—”

“Shut up,” Tony said, with an exaggerated pout. “It’s
not
funny.”

“It is, oh God, it is,” Roderick giggled, and then laughed out loud, totally cracking up again. “Come on, Tony—admit it—it’s ludicrously funny.”

“It’s embarrassing.”

“So what? Laugh. If I’m not stuck on being embarrassed about you babysitting me yesterday, I don’t see why you should hang onto what wasn’t even your fault. Silly boy. Save it for something that matters.”

And he kept laughing, going so far as to double over and hold his stomach.

Tony walked in silence, wondering how to find someone when all you knew was that he had a really large penis. Fuck. The memory felt so significant… but now he didn’t think it was going to be useful at all.

Tony tried to think… Slim… what the fuck had been in his head when he thought to call the guy that? Another dick reference? Ah… yeah, he thought it probably was, because he hadn’t been able to see, just hear, and feel, and smell and taste… he pulled Roderick to one of the benches that showed up periodically along the strip. “Sit for a minute. Let me close my eyes and think.”

“You think,” Roderick gave Tony a peck on the cheek. “I’m going to feed. Back in a little bit.”

So Tony sat alone, eyes closed, and wrapped his mind around Slim… and the memories flooded back to him, as if all he’d ever had to do was ask his brain to supply them….

“
Well, well, well, look what we have here.” The voice was friendly but mocking, with long round vowels like someone ‘putting on’ a southern accent. “A young male in chains right here in the middle of the good ol’ boys club. Wonders never cease. The old man must feel a need to show some power tonight. Tsk, tsk. You are a pretty young thing, though, aren’t you?”

Tony stood still. Smart boys did not speak. This person didn’t want Tony to respond anyway. He was keeping the rambling commentary going for his own ears. Tony knew a few people who did that.

“
On your knees, pretty one. Show me what you can do.”

Tony sank to his knees and reached his hands out. He made contact with thighs, the bottom of a robe. Relief swarmed through him. This is what he came here to do. This is what he was to be paid for. Sweet little cocksucker. That’s all.

He ducked his head under the robe.

The cock was erect and pointing straight up at the man’s face. It was so long and slim that Tony wanted to giggle. It couldn’t be much bigger around than the man’s thumb. He was quite sorry about the opaque lenses right this minute. He’d like to see what this cock actually looked like. But then again, it was rude to stare.

He immediately tagged the guy Slim.

And decided this place must be the weird cock club.

He went to work, nibbling and licking, and stroking the length of the penis with his hands. It was awkward to get into his mouth, being that it was so long and stood straight up. He had to let his tongue do the work. Slim’s fingers kneaded in his hair and Tony knew he was doing fine. A soft moan encouraged him to continue.