Sussex, England: January, 1627
Pleiades Manor House

The orgy had lasted for two weeks, but now all of the victims were dead, and most of the corpses had already been roasted and eaten. Simon sat holding the body of the last one over his lap, his lips red with the lad’s blood, his skin growing warm from it as the boy grew cold. Simon felt dazed, for the boy had been forced to consume a great deal of wine before his death at Simon’s hands, and the wine was now working its effects on Simon.

A shadow fell over Simon’s face and he looked up, squinting. Nathan Roulan smiled down at him, but the smile was not comforting. It was seductive, verging on nasty. Nathan reached down and easily lifted the taller vampire to his feet, the body falling on the floor between their feet with a thud.

“I see you enjoyed him,” Nathan said. “A pity our stores are depleted. How soon will your men be back, with more slaves? This party has been too delicious, to end so soon.” He bent and kissed Simon full on the mouth.

“I didn’t mean to kill him,” Simon said in slurred tone. “Any of them...”

“Simon, don’t be ridiculous,” Nathan said in an irritated tone as he walked Simon over to a large four poster bed hung with deep blue velvet curtains. He pushed Simon down among the pillows and bent over him, kissing him again, with more passion.

“Nathan, you’ve never--”

“You know I’ve wanted to. You know you’ve wanted me to. Tonight the boys are gone, so you’ll have a real man.”

Simon laughed bitterly, sprawling backwards on the bed. “Neither of us are real men.”

Nathan took off his shirt, then began unbuttoning Simon’s. “Think of it however you wish...”

“I didn’t--”

“Yes, you did, Simon. You sent your men to find them, an even dozen of ripe lads, from the juicy youth Robert devoured last night to the lovely lad you just ended. You locked them up in your endless empty bedrooms, you prepared them for our little entertainment, you taught them what it was like to be food, to be prey, to feel the cold lash of a whip for someone else’s amusement. You showed them what fear was. You showed them no mercy.”

“No...” Simon trailed off.

“But, you did. I merely guided your hand.”

“I didn’t want this!” Simon moaned.

“You’re a sad drunk...just quiet yourself, Simon. This is no time to bring out your conscience.” He took off his pants, pulled Simon’s off. Simon didn’t fight him, didn’t protest. He was too dazed.

“What are you doing?” he asked.

“Exactly what you think.”

Nathan held Simon down on the bed, ignoring the other vampire’s protests, which began weakly, then became stronger, but Simon was in no shape to fight. Nathan had him easily, and he was not tender. Simon cried out in pain as Nathan took him. True, he had done the same to others, but this was the first time he had been used this way.

“I love you, Nathan,” he whispered bitterly into the pillows, even as he hated every moment of this act.

Nathan laughed, and the laugh broke Simon. After that, he remembered nothing.

He didn’t come back to himself for several hours. He wasn’t really aware of how close to dawn it was when he found himself sharply back inside his own consciousness. He only knew that this had to end.

“Nathan,” he said, pulling on his pants. “Get out of my house.”

Nathan lay in the bed beside him, nearly asleep. “What? Simon, are you mad?”

“If you do not get up and go now, I will shove this through your black heart.” He picked up the fireplace poker and brandished it at Nathan. The end was a sharp point. “Take Viscount Robert and go.”

Nathan chuckled. “Are you trying to frighten me?”

“I’m trying to rid myself of you. Go now!” Simon lunged forward with the poker, but Nathan moved at the speed of lightning. He grabbed Simon by the throat and the poker clattered to the ground.

“You are not a very polite host,” Nathan said icily.

“You’ll see how polite I am when I set you on fire while you’re sleeping,” Simon growled, struggling in Nathan’s grip.

Evidently, Nathan believed him. He dropped Simon to the floor and strode out of the room, calling for Robert. Simon drew himself to his feet, coughing, then followed to make sure they left.

“Gone for good,” he muttered himself when he had barred the door on the other two. But it would only be another fifty years before their paths would cross again.

Simon wept.

back