(I don't need arms to hunt, Cam.)
"Unless you're planning to fall on top of your prey, you need arms to grab them," Cam said. "Or didn't you think of that?"
Balint gave him a charming smile. (That's where you come in, Cam-Cam. You're going to hold them for me.)
Cam sighed in exasperation. At least something hadn't changed. "What if I hadn't agreed to come along, dimwit? Then what?"
(I knew you wouldn't let me down.)
In other words, Balint knew he could still talk Cam into going along with whatever scheme he had in mind and no matter how much he pissed Cam off, he'd be able to sweeten him by the end of the night.
"Okay, I hold them, then what?" Cam prompted, changing the subject.
Balint laughed. (You have no idea in hell of what you're doing, do you?)
"Not a fucking clue."
(You don't have to. Just do what I tell you and it'll work out just fine.)
And it did. After spending thirty minutes searching for someone who wasn't sick, drugged up or drunk, Balint settled on someone who had some booze in his blood but not enough to really affect him in any way. Holding the walking cocktail was more than a bit tricky. Cam had to hold him with one arm and tip his head back to bare his throat while at the same time stopping him from struggling and breaking free.
But all the struggling stopped as soon as Balint's teeth sank into his neck and the boy slumped in the crook of Cam's arm.
This was the part Cam had been dreading since he'd agreed to join Balint, watching him juice, hearing him make barely audible noises as he sucked hungrily, feeling Balint's pleasure and euphoria as he fed.
Then having Balint rip the body from Cam's hands and take everything he needed from his kill. Apparently, Balint's arms had healed enough for him to use them.
Balint sank down to the ground with the half-dead boy and feasted, nearly draining him to a husk before he gorged himself on whatever flesh he could eat without Shifting form to finish the rest. By the time Balint was finished with him, the corpse was nothing but an unrecognizable mess of meat in rags and the wounds on Balint's chest had vanished.
Balint smacked his lips and wiped off his mouth. (That was good,) he murmured, (I won't need to feed so heavily with the next one.)
Cam didn't know if he was horrified or titillated. That fact alone scared the fuck out of him. "How many more?"
(One more probably. After that we'll talk, Cam.)
Balint was much neater with the next one, seizing him and juicing him quickly before letting his unconscious body slip from his hands. His eyes had that familiar glitter Cam had seen so often in the past seven months; that feverish, crazy glitter that meant Balint was high on juice.
Drunk on blood. And the worst part was that the scent was hitting Cam like a battering ram, making him involuntarily lick his lips.
Balint suddenly drew close to Cam. "You want?" he whispered before kissing Cam fiercely.
This was also familiar, the honeyed sweetness of Balint's lips but they were much sweeter this time because this was right after a kill instead of hours later, when Cam tasted the lingering traces. Everything in Cam wanted to pull away because he knew that Balint was seducing him into more than sex. But he also knew that if he did pull away, it'd be taken as a rebuff of more than the blood on Balint's mouth. He didn't know which was worse. Or which was the lesser of the two evils. "Yeah," he finally admitted huskily, his tongue licking at Balint's lips before the Gypsy opened them, sucking at Cam's tongue and pulling Cam against his body.
The taste of Balint's mouth, the inside of his mouth was like liquid sex in itself, exciting Cam, making him want more. Their kiss grew deeper and Cam's hands cupped Balint's ass, pressing his hardness into Cam's .
"Whaz happen'?" a voice suddenly asked, startling Cam so much he jumped and broke the kiss.
Balint whirled around in the direction of the weak, slurred voice. The voice of Balint's victim. He was staggering drunkenly, his violet eyes glassy and vacant as they tried to focus.
For the first time, Cam noticed how fast Balint's eyes moved, taking everything in, and he realized, Balint had always done that, Cam had just taken it for granted. Cam may have been the strategist for their hunts and the brains behind their operation but it was Balint who scoped things out first, knowing pretty quickly whether it was safe to proceed or if they were in danger, or even if their target was within distance.
The only difference now was Balint's motives. Not his actions.
"I thought you killed him," Cam said as softly as he could without whispering.
Balint shrugged. (I left you the rest.)
Cam stared at him. "Are you fucking crazy? I don't want any!"
Balint flinched as if he'd been slapped. (Yes you do,) he said quietly. (Your craving is so powerful that if I hadn't eaten already, it'd drive me into a frenzy.)
It was bad enough being so aware of the Norm's scent that just smelling it all over Balint made Cam's mouth water. But hearing Balint say the words out loud made them more of an accusation than an observation. "That's what you do, isn't it," Cam blurted, wanting to take the words back the second after he uttered them.
Balint's eyes could have burned a hole through Cam's heart. (What's what I do, Cameron?) he asked softly.
No! That little con artist was not gonna play dumb this time. "You know fucking well what I mean! You hunt with someone, then you share the spoils. That's why you wanted me with you, Balint! You thought you were gonna do that with me!"
"I thought we'd Share," Balint whispered. "Share everything, including pleasure. If it disgusts you so much then I'll finish him off myself. But don't think I'll be in your bed tonight, Cameron. I have better things to do than to fuck a boy that looks down on me while he drinks blood in a bottle." Then he gave Cam a smile that chilled him to the bone. There was nothing human in that smile. Nothing human in Balint's expression at all. "Take all of me or take none of me," he hissed. "Radu was right. I should have never befriended my prey." Those hazel eyes glittered with pain. "You have no idea how much I hate you."
Yes Cam did. Balint's hatred was like a knife in Cam's belly and something he'd been completely unprepared for. "You don't hate me," he said, desperately hoping.
(You hate me,) Balint stated matter of factly.
"I've never said that!"
(You hate that you're Sangsue. That's why you hate me. Well I have news for you. I love what I am. I've been it forever. Up until I met you, vache were my prey. I drank their blood after I bedded them and if I felt like it I ate whatever flesh I could stomach. It's part of what I am, Cameron. Don't go near me until you can handle it.)
And then Balint and his kill were suddenly gone and Cam was alone.
Even though he had nowhere to go and nothing else to do, Cam waited a good two hours before returning to the Nocturne. Walking aimlessly was better than going back to the Nocturne where Cam was sure the news of his and Balint's break up had already spread like wildfire. The last thing he wanted to do is have everyone look at him with derision or worse, pity.
The first thing he did was scan the room, reaching out with his senses to see if he could feel Angelo or Weasel. Fuck. Angelo was definitely waiting against the wall near the secret entrance. Weasel would have been preferable. Dealing with Angelo was tricky in the best of circumstances, dealing with him now would be impossible.
Maybe if he pretended he hadn't felt Angelo in the room he could just walk out the door again. Cam slowly inched towards the door
"Going somewhere?" Cam suddenly heard a voice whisper in his ear. Then a shiver vibrated through Cam's body as a tongue plunged inside. Cam had been on the receiving end of that tongue enough times to recognize it.
"Knock it off, Angelo," Cam muttered.
Angelo stepped in front of him and pouted. (You're no fun.)
Cam hated when he did that. Mostly because it made Angelo's mouth look even more pouty. And kissable. "I'm not in the mood for fun."
(I can fix that,) Angelo said with a smirk.
Cam glared at him. "Don't bother."
(You got a problem?) Angelo asked with just a hint of irritation.
"Balint and I fucking broke up," Cam growled. "Maybe that's not a problem to you, asshole but it is to me!"
(And to him,) Angelo murmured. Then he smiled. (You haven't broken up with him so don't get your knickers in a knot.)
"Like hell we haven't!"
(You had a row, Balint is in a mood and you're licking your wounds. That about right, sunshine?)
"You about done?" Cam retorted.
Angelo grinned wickedly. (I can lick them for you.)
"Damn it, Angelo! I thought I had sex on the brain all the time but you fucking take the cake!"
"You mean if I was to lead you into the stockroom," Angelo whispered, his hand moving in between Cam's legs, "work you into such a lather you can't think straight and then suck you off until you explode in my mouth, you'd turn me down?"
Cam let out an involuntarily gasp as Angelo's fingers did their magic. "You're not being fair," he growled.
(I've never claimed to be, honeychild.) Angelo's hand tightened and he leaned over to kiss Cam full on the mouth with just a hint of his tongue. Then he pulled back and rolled his eyes. (Apparently, you're in a mood too,) he remarked. (It's gonna take a lot of sweetening to get you out of it.)
Another thing Angelo and Balint had in common. Both were determined and persistent sons of bitches only Balint was somewhere between manipulative and opportunistic and Angelo was more a combination of obnoxious and pragmatic. But it was hard to be mad at Angelo's willingness to take whatever he could get because as annoying as it was, Cam had learned enough about him to know Angelo wasn't being malicious. In his fucked up little brain, Angelo actually meant well. Cam smiled a little. "I appreciate the gesture, Angelo, but this can't be fixed."
(How do you know until you try, agapi mou?)
"I've tried," Cam snapped, then immediately regretted it, softening his tone. "I can't do this. I don't want to do this," Cam admitted, being honest with himself for the first time.
Angelo's voice was surprisingly gentle. (I know. When you fell for Balint, this wasn't part of the package. Balint knew that and made sure to do his thing out of your sight. But Cam, what is making Balint so angry is not that you can't deal with what he is. It's that you can't deal with what you are and you're blaming him for it.)
Cam was about to make a nasty retort but knives were suddenly digging into his gut and he doubled over in agony.
(Damn it to fucking hell, vlaka,) Angelo roared, (when was the last time you ate?)
Cam stared at Angelo's outburst. "What the fuck does that have to do with anything?"
(Answer me or the choice won't be yours to make,) Angelo warned.
"Yeah, that's your kind's answer for everything," Cam sneered, "when all else fails, use your powers."
Angelo's dark eyes flared fluorescent red for a moment before the fires were squelched. (Don't try to bait me into killing you. You have no idea how unpleasant I can make it. Or how much it will get me off if I do.)
A promise that Cam was tired of hearing. Ever since he and Balint began their stay, one juicer or another had threatened his life. Tonight Balint had. Weasel did when it suited him. And Angelo did all the time. Well Cam had had it. "Fuck you, Angelo. You want to kill me so bad," Cam bared his throat, "go the fuck ahead!"
To Cam's surprise and fury, Angelo smirked. (Ela,) he said, grabbing Cam's hand. (We're going.)
Cam muttered, "Go where you want to. I'm not going anywhere with you." He made a halfhearted attempt to pull free, not willing to admit that it was a useless gesture.
(Let me put it this way, my friend,) Angelo didn't quite threaten, (either you walk there or I'll drag you there. So unless you want your arm snapped off from your body, it would be in your best interest to play nice, sweet thing.)
Breaking his arm wasn't Cam's idea of fun and he knew Angelo was dead serious. He sighed. "So where are we going?"
To Souvenirs, a pricey restaurant in the heart of Thorenton and right on the border of Sargot City's nastier side of town. Nasty enough that even Cam wouldn't be caught dead there without his gun. Far enough that Angelo had to scoop Cam up in his arms and get there by air. Which, of course, took energy. Energy that Angelo would only be too happy to replenish.
Cam couldn't even use lack of money as an excuse. Angelo was treating, laughing that he wouldn't be paying for his food, then laughed even harder at the look of disgust on Cam's face.
"Why are we here then?" Cam demanded as soon as he sat down.
(To get you a nice juicy steak. Not the best thing but it'll have to do.)
Cam didn't even want to hear what the "best thing," was.
After a few minutes, the waiter came over to their table. A thug dressed up was still a thug and he stole a few looks at Angelo before smiling real ugly, dismissing him. He turned to Cam. "May I take your order?" he asked with a tone that showed how beneath himself he thought being a waiter was.
(Don't even think of ordering anything other than meat,) Angelo growled.
It was what was unspoken about Angelo's implied threat that made Cam give in. Well if Angelo was paying for it anyway .
"Filet mignon," Cam ordered.
Surprise passed over the young man's features, probably because he figured Cam couldn't afford it. And he was right. But it was Angelo's problem. Not Cam's. "And how would you like that cooked?"
(Not,) Angelo remarked.
Raw? Was Angelo fucking kidding? "Medium," Cam told him, smiling at Angelo's dirty looks.
The waiter turned to Angelo. "Your order, Miss?"
Black eyes glittered. "You think I'm a girl?" Angelo asked him in Normspeech.
"You're pretty enough to be a girl." The waiter smirked. "My mistake."
"I have no order," Angelo said cheerfully, "I'll just feast my eyes on you." Then he ran his tongue across his lips provocatively.
Cam could see the waiter's hand clench into a fist, then unclench, barely keeping control over himself. "I'll get that filet mignon for you," he said, stalking off in a huff.
(Fucking boychik,) Angelo grumbled, (maybe I should just show him how much of a girl I'm not.)
"What are you planning to do," Cam snorted. "Rape him?"
Angelo didn't answer. He just grinned evilly.
Just in time for the waiter to come back with the filet mignon. He sat the plate down on the table in front of Cam. "Bon a petit." Then he sneered at Angelo. "I'm glad you didn't order anything, I'd rather not serve a pervy Nancy like you."
"That's why you've been sneaking peeks at me since we got here," Angelo drawled.
The waiter looked daggers at Angelo, then focused his attention on Cam. The "straight" one. If he only knew. "I'll be back when you're ready to order dessert," he muttered before leaving.
"Do you ever pass up an opportunity to fuck around with someone's head?" Cam demanded in exasperation.
(Not when I can help it,) was Angelo's amused reply.
Cam grabbed a fork and knife and dug into the filet mignon. Then almost choked, spitting it out into a napkin. "What the fuck?"
(Don't like it, do you?)
Cam angrily ignored him and took another forkful, trying not to gag. It tasted disgusting. Overly seasoned. Too cooked. "No, I don't like it," he spat.
(Thought you wouldn't.)
"You don't fucking know everything and wipe that smug look off your face!"
(You ready to listen to me now?)
"Fuck no!" Cam signaled for the waiter to come to their table. "It's a little too well done for me, can I have it rare?"
The waiter shrugged and snatched Cam's plate off the table and walked back with his redone order. "I hope this is more to your liking," he said before moving on to another table.
(It's still too cooked, Cam.)
"Would you shut the fuck up?!"
A sardonic smile played on Angelo's pouty lips. (I guess you're just gonna have to find out the hard way, sunshine.)
Cam shot him a dirty look and cut off a piece of the filet mignon to taste, but based on how queasy just the smell alone made him, he knew it was a waste of time. However, he didn't want to admit that Angelo was right so he shoved the piece in his mouth anyway, steeling himself enough to swallow it instead of vomiting.
Angelo shook his head. (If you're gonna make yourself sick at least warn me first so I can shield myself from your nausea before it becomes mine and I toss my cookies.)
"You think you know everything," Cam said.
(Not everything. I know that cooked meat tastes dead. Flat. You might as well be eating plastic.)
"Fine! I'll send it back again and have them barely cook it. Are you happy now?"
Angelo patted his shoulder. (Immensely.)
This time the waiter was barely containing his fury at Cam's changing order. Especially since barely cooking it was not an option. "Rare is the best we can do. Perhaps you don't like filet mignon?"
"Prepare his filet mignon one step below it still mooing," Angelo suggested.
It was the waiter's turn to choke. "Raw?"
"And I thought you were a stupid boy," Angelo said sarcastically.
When the waiter returned with the raw meat, his lips pressed into a tight line. "I take no responsibility if you get sick," he declared before his body suddenly stiffened and his eyes widened as if he was in shock. His eyes flew to Angelo, who grinned at him as if they were sharing a secret. Then, the waiter left, seeming to walk with great difficulty.
Cam stared at the shuffling waiter, then at Angelo before shaking his head and wrinkling his nose at his plate. "I'm not eating this."
(Smell it, then tell me that.)
"You are crazy!"
(Humor me, Cam. If you find that you still won't eat it, I'll pay for it and we'll go.)
"Whatever. Have it your way, you freak." Cam leaned over the plate and took an exaggerated sniff.
And found himself tearing it apart with his bare hands, shoving big chunks into his mouth. He hadn't thought he was hungry but now he couldn't stop eating, it tasted so good, it practically melted in his mouth. Before Cam knew it, there was no more left and he nearly brought the plate to his lips to lick the juices from it until he caught himself and lowered his hands, putting the plate back on the table sheepishly.
(You feel better now?) Angelo asked with concern.
Yeah. Cam felt much better than he'd felt in a while. More stable. Not hungry. Satisfied.
Fuck. "Much," he grudgingly admitted.
(Cam, don't go that long without eating again or you might find that you can't anymore.)
The thought made Cam shudder. "And if I eat, that won't happen?"
(Can't guarantee that but it will slow things down some.)
This time Cam did choke. "Slow things down? You're not saying " He couldn't finish the sentence.
(I don't have to. And you know it.)
"You don't know shit, you asshole," Cam snarled, getting up from his chair. "And don't even think I'm Maturing!" He threw the napkin at Angelo. "It ain't happening!" he declared before stomping away and out the door.
After walking back inside a half an hour later and finding Angelo had vanished, Cam knew he'd fucked himself bad because now he had a three hour walk ahead of him. Then again, that was the Nocturne. Cam could take advantage of the fact that he'd just been given an opportunity to cut his losses and run; leaving Balint and the whole fucking Sangsue bullshit behind .
Yeah! Angelo, in his snit, had actually handed Cam a golden opportunity to finally be free! If Cam could just get away from all of those blood sucking freaks, he could stop his own changes in their tracks. But they were just changes. Not Maturity.
Unfortunately, he still had to walk through this shitty neighborhood to get anywhere. Cam made his way through the run down slums and deserted streets and just when he thought he'd make it out of that hellhole in one piece, he suddenly sensed someone was following him. It smelled like a guy and the only reason he'd be tailing Cam would be to mug him. Probably thought Cam was an easy mark too.
Cam really wasn't in the mood for this shit. He walked faster, trying to lose him but he could hear the guy's footsteps, fuck he was definitely trying to catch up to him.
Enough of this bullshit! He wanted to play? Cam would play. As soon as he heard the would be mugger draw closer, he whipped around and drew out his gun. "Try again, fucker!"
Cam aimed and fired .
And missed. He tried again but apparently that was the only bullet. Cam had fucked up majorly and now he was fucked because the mugger was now brandishing a knife. "You can't shoot worth a damn, can you?!"
Cam ditched the gun. It was fucking useless and he had no other weapon on himself so he took off and ran.
"Pansy ass! You can't run away from me!"
And he was correct. Cam found himself running straight into a dead end and the dickwad was coming right up behind him. Getting close enough that Cam could smell the salt of his sweat and the ever present sweetness underneath his skin. And something new. Meat. The aroma that was not unlike the filet mignon he had earlier, only it smelled much better. Richer. Fresher. Tastier.
"Okay," the mugger sneered, "I'm done fucking around. I was just gonna take your money but you pissed me off so much I'm gonna let my knife get real well acquainted with your chest." The mugger made a motion to stab Cam but Cam moved faster, knocking the knife from the mugger's hands and plunging it into his heart.
The smell of the mugger's blood hit Cam full force and it tantalized him, the tang of adrenaline making his mouth water, his heart beat faster, fuck, he couldn't resist it.
He didn't want to resist it.
Cam seized the mugger's body and sank to the ground with him, just like Balint had with his . kill.
This was Cam's kill. He wasn't even gonna lie about it anymore. As if he was in a trance, he lapped at the blood that spilled from the wound, it tasted so good, he wanted more. He wanted it all. Every drop in this fucker's body. Cam's mouth fastened to the wound over his heart and he let it drench his throat and for the first time, he sucked and drew out more when the original flow stopped.
Every taste he'd had before was nothing compared to this this ecstasy. Instead of just sensing and feeling the mugger's emotions, Cam was drinking them in along with his blood, feeling them wash over him and sweep him under a tide of rapture. He was so spellbound that he was only faintly aware of another pulling at his victim's veins. Then the extreme pleasure of another Sangsue as his blood amplified Cam's, building on it, until he was overcome with desire.
Angelo. Sharing this kill with Cam.
Only to stop abruptly. "No more, lover," Angelo whispered, kissing Cam's neck and gently pulling him off the mugger's body. "It'll make you sick, and if you're sick you won't want this." Angelo's hand slid under Cam's jaw and gave him a bruising kiss, His greedy tongue snaked inside Cam's eager mouth and once Angelo's lips slid to other places anything resembling coherent thought became completely irrelevant.
Cam had never felt so horny in his life. And he'd never realized just how hot and bothered juicing drinking .feeding could make him. This wasn't lovemaking with some biting and tasting of blood here and there. This was all mouths and teeth and tongues and nails. It was savage and brutal and violent; purely animal. Sharing pleasure.
Clothes were quickly shed, then Angelo's mouth punished and rewarded Cam, making every nerve ending sing with pain and extreme pleasure. Every sensation built upon the last one, leaving Cam hypersensitive to even the lightest of touches and insane with lust. By the time Angelo roughly flipped Cam over on his belly and ran his tongue along the crack of Cam's ass, he knew the dark-eyed boy was about to take him but for some reason, he didn't mind it in the least. And take him Angelo did. Flipped him over again so he could lie on top of Cam and claim his mouth. Then rammed inside him and fucked Cam to pure orgasmic nirvana until stars exploded behind Cam's eyes as he came, his nails digging into Angelo's back.
When he was able to catch his breath again, he gasped, "What the fuck was that?"
Angelo's lips trailed along Cam's collarbone. (You didn't like it?)
"I couldn't control the scent of his blood drove me fucking crazy and I couldn't stop and it was so good, I was so buzzed and then I wanted to tear your clothes off."
Angelo laughed softly. (You did, but I wasn't about to stop you.)
"I was Tiger riding," Cam realized. "Wasn't I?"
(Mmmm-hmmm,) Angelo murmured, kissing him hard before rising to his feet. (But we have a body to get rid of.) He grinned evilly. (Unless you want me to get rid of it. The easy way.)
Fuck that! Cam reached over and grabbed his clothes. "Don't even think about it," he warned.
(That's what I love about you, Cam,) Angelo drawled while quickly getting dressed. (Such a take charge kind of boy.)
Cam laughed. "Yeah, that'll be the day I take charge of you." He stood up and slipped back into his clothes, then felt around for his gun before remembering he didn't have it anymore.
(Oh, but I want you to.) Angelo's hand moved in between Cam's legs and gave his crotch an affectionate squeeze. (That's why I've booked a room at Renaissance.)
Cam blinked. "You what?"
(Booked a room. For us. ) Angelo smirked.
"Whatever the fuck for?"
Angelo raised an amused eyebrow. (Well if you can't figure it out, sweet thing, I'm sure not gonna tell you.) He briskly stripped the cooling body or anything valuable, then threw it over his shoulder.
Cam snorted. "I know what for, wiseass. I'm asking, why the fancy digs when we just got hot and heavy right here? And don't you think you took enough from that loser already without robbing him too?"
(We, honeychild.) Angelo rolled his eyes. (We took blood from "that loser." And if you're gonna keep taking blood you might as well learn unless you create a motive for the empties you leave behind, you risk the possibility of more questions. Cops and investigators understand robbery. You don't want them to start focusing on the lack of blood in their bodies, Cam.)
"Come off it! You mean to tell me you're just trying to throw off suspicion and not bag a few trophies, Angelo? I know you better than that. You always take something from your kills. A little souvenir. So don't start giving me the rules about being Sangsue, you do it because you get off on it. Period, the end."
(Lots of things get me off,) Angelo purred, flashing that grin of his that seduced as well as threatened. (You wanna analyze me or fuck me, sweet Cam?)
Angelo was letting him know in his own inimitable way that Cam was pissing him off. Enough that if Cam didn't stop, Angelo would leave him all hot and bothered with nothing to do with it. An implied warning. That was Angelo's style. "I always want to fuck you, Angelo." Cam's implied understanding without submitting. Another dance.
Angelo's eyes burned feverishly, the red coals smoldering. "Then you will. Real soon."
Even Cam couldn't resist the promises flashing in those hot, black eyes. "I'd better," he growled.
Angelo dumped the empty in some abandoned building; just another dead scumbag whose death wouldn't probably even be investigated. Human garbage. Then the two boys walked back into Thorenton and made their way towards the Renaissance.
Three thousand credits a night not only could buy you opulence and comfort, it could also guarantee a concierge not batting an eyelash at Angelo's instructions that there were to be absolutely no interruptions by any of the cleaning staff.
For their own safety as well as Cam and Angelo's. And as much as Cam hated to admit it, they'd be no safer with him than they'd be with Angelo. Tonight killed the chance for any more of those self-delusions forever.
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Widower©Janette, 1997 - 2005
Black Widower©Janette, 1997 - 2005
Last Updated 5/29/05
Page Last Updated 5/29/05