(I found a club that's right up your alley, Angelo,) my cousin Dimitri gushed, if it's possible to gush with Nightspeech.
I yawned. (Right up your alley, perhaps,) I drawled, but I could not completely hide my interest. Sweet Dimitri knew me way too long for that. He knew me from before we were really teenagers. My darling cousin could read me quite easily then and had no compunction about using it to his advantage. Oh no, he knew how badly I needed his approval and that I'd do anything to gain it.
Until he crossed the one line that changed things forever.
He can still read me better than anybody. I can charm and sweeten but can't bullshit him.
Not that I even bother to. I shield Weasel from the whole truth all the time. If he figures out the rest, and he's too smart for his own good, that's his problem. At least I made an effort and tried. I don't protect Dimitri from the truth. I torture him with it. (So,) I began, (Tell me about this club.)
(It has this arena, where these long cushioned seats are curved around the stage to give the audience a great view of the pretty young thing and its handlers.)
Interesting start. I get bored so easily and I'm always looking for something new and different. I doubted this would be but I'd give Dimitri a chance to sell it to me. (I take it these whelps are well trained?)
Dimitri snickered. (Conditioned is more like it. They flare up with fear the second their handler goes near them.) He loved spice. I liked it quite a lot myself, but it would take more than that to even pique my interest. (What else?) I demanded, already getting bored. (You want spice so bad, just find some vache and boost their fear. Not like you don't do it often enough.)
He didn't care for that. (Angelo, why do you have to be such a bastard?)
Because it was fun and I wasn't having any now.
I almost said, "If you don't like it, leave." However, I didn't want him to leave just yet so I softened a little. "You said it was right up my alley, matya mou," I whispered in his ear. "Surely there's more." I ran my tongue along the inside of his ear and Dimitri's knees turned to jelly. "Enlighten me."
Then I turned his face sideways and gave him a kiss full of promises. Dimitri knew better but he let me sweeten him. He always did eventually. But when the kiss grew deeper and more intense, I realized that my single-minded cousin would get distracted before too long and I was still curious about this club.
I pulled away. (About the club?) I prompted.
"You fucking cocktease," his eyes said but he would never say it out loud. Even if it was true. The resentment flickered out of his eyes as quickly as it came, replaced first with resignation, then the sudden realization that I was actually interested in what he had to say.
For a change.
(The show is different every night but the theme is basically the same. They get some creature on stage, sometimes a wench, sometimes a boy. They're always very pleasing to the eye. The handler uses sophisticated methods to inflict pain. The torture and rape come later. By the time they're done,) Dimitri licked his lips, (There's nothing left on that stage but meat.)
Sophisticated methods of inflicting pain, mmmmm? I wondered.
As for everything else, I was quickly getting the picture. Whoever decided on the shape of the arena knew exactly what they were doing. The show was the trigger. The proximity of so many telepaths so close together would amplify everything they felt. Each Supe's pleasure and lust would feed the other creating something not unlike Sharing.
Add the fear of the victim and Dimitri would have found it intoxicating. Even though his empathy was on the low side for a Nightchild, he had an acute sense of smell and all that spice would be too tempting to pass up. And if it got the audience all hot and bothered, I had no doubt that everything would disintegrate into one huge orgy. All that sugar would be quite enticing....hmmmmm....
Knowing my cousin, he probably seized the moment the second the real circus began and grabbed the prize when everyone was distracted. And when he was done with it and left the empty back on the stage, the handlers and club management wouldn't even know the difference. Just a few more bruises on a mess of pulp.
Dimitri usually preferred easy prey, which was one reason I didn't game with him. Like a hyena, he preferred the weak and most vulnerable. If I was in the mood for lots of sex and blood, Dimitri was perfect for seize, consume and fuck. What can I say, sometimes the old ways are the most satisfying.
Don't misunderstand, when he put in the effort, Dimitri could be a deadly hunter. A guided missile zeroing in on his target. And he had he uncanny ability to find the stragglers of the herd. But a gamer? Please, he had neither the patience nor the appreciation of the art of gaming.
Ironically, as moral and good as he believed to be, Weasel was a true player. Unlike Dimitri, Weasel was a cat who enjoyed toying with his prey before closing in for the kill. After all this time, I finally had a genuine gamer to play with.
On the other hand, I was a wolf. And a true wolf didn't go after the sheep. They preyed upon other wolves. (What's the name of this club?) I asked.
(Freakers. It's just outside the Old Quarter.)
(It must be very new.) And I didn't know of its existence before now? That pissed me off greatly.
Dimitri snorted. (Ardoin is worried it's siphoning off money from The Nocturne.)
Yes, that was Master Ardoin. Forget about the innocent Saps being murdered purely for the entertainment for jaded Supes. Was it eating into profits?
Not that I had any aversion to killing. If for one moment you think that, then you don't know me very well. Not at all. What I DID have major problems with is murder, especially when the prey is defenseless and had no way of fighting back. It's unsporting, insulting to a real predator, and unnecessary.
What would one of them do with a wolf in sheep's clothing?
(Alright then, I'll pay Freakers a visit tonight,) I decided, trying to keep the eagerness out of my voice. Dimitri flashed me a wicked smile. Until I told him I was going alone. Wiped the shit eating grin off his pretty little face.
(Shit Angelo, you've got to fucking be kidding!)
I smirked. (Nope.)
His eyes narrowed. (Let me guess, you're going with that green eyed swamp rat, aren't you?) One of his many nicknames for Weasel. One of the nicer ones.
As much as I enjoyed jerking Dimitri around, I didn't want him to be mad at me. Not all night anyway. I cupped his face in my hands. (Dimitri-mou, you know I prefer to hunt alone.) As usual, I only told him part of the truth. While I did plan to hunt alone, I had every intention of Sharing my pickup with my beloved.
And I had no doubt that Weasel would Share with me. Share the pickup, then Share himself. It was what happened after that was beginning to get on my last nerve. In fact, the whole pattern got on my tits. It was always the same. I named the game, he played along, hating himself the entire time. Then, after instinct and his own triggers drove him to do what he really waned to do, we'd ravish each other and that would override any pangs of guilt that he had. Until the next night came and he reverted back to drinking Rotgut for a while.
Until I found someone else to tantalize him with. Sorry. As much as I loved him in bed, it was getting to the point where it just wasn't worth it. If these were the only terms I could have him on, fuck it! And fuck him! Yes, even Angelos had limits and the way things were going, I'd still sleep with him but that would be it. I could bang anyone, one thing Weasel, Dimitri and I had in common. We could separate sex and politics. I knew about Dimitri, but I found out about Weasel the hard way.
Are you putting two and two together? One night, my two top lovers decided that if they couldn't have me that night, each other would do.
Yeah, you heard that right. Although their hatred was mutual, apparently, so was their chemistry. Didn't surprise me, intense hatred and lust are often entwined because both take passion. What did surprise me that Dimitri came up with the idea in the first place. He made the proposal and partially to spite me, but probably more out of horniness, Weasel showed Dimitri what he thought of the idea.
Sure, I was not a happy camper when I found out, but something rather delicious soon made me more amused than angry. They loathed one another everywhere else but in bed. And they didn't even Share a kill first! Lovers who couldn't stomach one another. Talk about strange bedfellows.
And everybody says that I don't think above my waist?
It was for that very reason that I didn't want any hard feelings between Dimitri and me. Or Weasel, for that matter. That gave them both an enormous trump card I had no intention of letting either boy play. Besides, Dimitri wasn't smart enough and Weasel wasn't devious enough to know they had that advantage.
At least, I hoped that was the case. One of the many things I'd never tell them. I always held my own cards close to my chest, as far as my true feelings were concerned. So close, that even I was unaware of them half the time, until I was pushed against the wall and reacted. Which was all well and good, but at this time I had an upset Dimitri to fix. (I will make it up to you.)
Dimitri pouted. (Sure you will.)
I pressed against him in a way that showed I was not teasing this time, and flicked my tongue across his lips. (Can I start now?)
Dimitri still wasn't happy but he knew it was the closest thing to an apology that he was going to get. (I thought you were going to Freakers,) he muttered.
(Oh, I fully intend to. Later.) I sank to my knees. (Much later.) I pulled down his zipper with my teeth. (Do you have a problem with that?)
Dimitri grunted and pushed my head away just long enough to unbutton his jeans and slip them off. "You know the answer," he hissed before pulling my head forward to pay homage.