Crystal Noir




Prologue:


Silently approaching him. The dark-clad angel under the stars...His skin shimmering white under the moon, ruby red lips almost black in the dark night...
His fallen angel. His own ...

"Mon ami..." The midnight gaze is fixed on him now. A pale hand reaches out to touch him. Just a brief stroke over the back of his hand. A reassuring touch. Remembrance of intimacy ... lost.

"Jean-Claude..." His own dark voice sounds in the darkness. He keeps his face hidden under a veil of golden hair. Only one of his eyes looks back at Jean-Claude as they meet at the parking lot outside the Circus. The sky draped in stars like a jeweled cloak above them. Reminding him of countless night like this: admiring the night, their world, the realm of the stars ... together.

In past times he would have kissed him. Tasted those red lips, been consumed and wrapped in the scent of him. Seduced by the alluring taste, the sweet feel of the other in his arms. Alas, those days were gone.

"Why so sad, mon ami?" Jean-Claude's fingers trail his cheek, on the smooth side ... always... drawn to the beauty he saw there. His smile barely hid his fangs, black hair fell in heavy locks and framed his glittering, dark gaze. Open and concerned, such a light in there...how could anyone see darkness and evil in the depths of those eyes? Darkness was for Asher, and Asher alone.

A sharp intake of breath and...

"Nothing...do not worry about me. I could feel your presence, that is all..." Feel him, yes, as always; forever bound to the past by his scars where Jean-Claude had risen to power and a new life, with new lovers... But this, this was not changed: He would always feel Jean-Claude's presence. Feel it like a stab in the heart.

He was Jean-Claude's past now. That was all...His past and guilty conscience.
So much ... lost...
Sometimes he wished he'd never come to this country. That Jean-Claude had never seen him like this. Would rather have stayed a gold-rimmed memory: A beautiful image in his mind.

But he had come, drawn by his own rage...Stayed there, out of love...Just to see the one he loved so struggle with his heart and be forced to face his new love every day. See flaring longing of what was lost in the other vampire's eyes, yes...But also swallow the bitter knowledge that it was past. He and Jean-Claude would never be that close again. It had cracked and burned to ashes with Juliana, too much pain, too much suffering. What they once were had melted away with Asher's beauty, been erased by holy fluid.

"Why are you here?" he asked Jean-Claude, "Why are you worried?" He could feel the uneasiness radiating, a hint of nervousness...Oh yes, jean-Claude never bothered hiding from him, he still trusted him above all. That was good, reassuring.

"Damian came and saw me," Jean-Claude, said calmly. "There's a budding master in the city, he is working for me," he smiled feral and amused, Asher rose his eye-brow:

"How so? Has he offered an alliance?"

Jean-Claude grinned in reply, a sudden hint of humor lit up in his gaze:

"Not quite," he smiled. "He is working at the Guilty Pleasures," he informed with a forced, serious expression to cover up the amusement.

"Ah!" Asher chuckled softly. "How did that come about?"

"I don't know," Jean-Claude replied, still amused. "But he has not risen to power yet..."

Asher pondered the information. "I suppose he is not working behind the bar, considering your expression..."

"Non, he is a dancer," Jean-Claude smiled again. "A very good one if I may add, he has done nothing to hurt my business, yet..."

Asher chuckled at the utterly amused expression on his dearest’s face. "But you believe he will?" he added seriously. "That he is bidding his time...?"

"He had his eyes set on sweet Nathaniel..." Jean-Claude declared. " Damian got the impression he was trying to build his own court...Seek out my weaknesses, yes...He was already informed about...many of my affairs."

"And Nathaniel?" Asher asked, suddenly worried on the cat's behalf.

"Ah," Jean-Claude smiled a little ironically: "The power of love...he is safely back in his vampire's arms."

"Good," Asher smiled slightly. He wouldn't have liked it if something bad happened to the vampire and the wereleopard, he had a certain weakness for them; their union made him feel warm inside. His heart a little less hard.

"I don't need this disturbance in my own house, so to speak," Jean-Claude was talking about the other master again. "Granted, he is weak, but he can still cause problems..."

"What will you do?" Asher asked him. He too could see the annoyance this strange master could bring about...And had already done by sneaking into Jean-Claude's territory, trying to woo one of his people. It guaranteed he knew Jean-Claude would have been made aware of his presence. If Jean-Claude didn't act in any way he would see it as an offence, or in the worst case scenario, a weakness.

"He can grow strong this one," Jean-Claude replied. "He is bold and arrogant. Self-assured. I think I have to make him an offer."

"What kind of offer?" Asher asked, and they spoke calmly now. This was well known territory: politics.

"Something he can't refuse, and that will benefit me as well..."

"Of course."

"I will not approach him myself. I am his employer and he has done nothing to me yet but help fill my pockets...nor has not threatened me, openly," he added. "I want you to talk to him, mon ami. You are my second in command and he cannot be offended that you come in my place...You will go there, and make this offer on my behalf," he stated.

"Oui, mon ami, but of course," Asher smiled slightly. He would do what he could to limit or remove the threat, besides he was a little curious: A budding master, stripping at another master's club...Either he was overly confident or something quite unusual. Most likely however; the new one had a plan.

Jean-Claude's hand came to rest on his healthy one, caressed it lightly:

"Thank you," he said softly. "There is no one I trust like you."

Somehow, however, the gentle words felt poor and unsatisfying. Could never be enough...


I.

He had to admit, this Tamlin was indeed the dancer speaking most directly to his manly side. He'd watched them all from the VIP lounge set high above the common area of the club. He'd wanted to watch the new master first, feel him, before approaching him. Luckily he was alone up there and could watch them undisturbed. It was something about Guilty Pleasures that unnerved him. Made it all too aware to him what he had been. What was not within his reach anymore...The beautiful dancing boys forced him to struggle a little extra to repress the side of himself that had no right to be expressed anymore...no right to be there at all. They were not for him; the pink, sensual dreams of the night. The swaying bodies, the aroused scent. The petals falling from the ceiling...Not for him; the red lips pouting at the audience, the sweat slick bodies writhing on the floor under the harsh stage lights...Small glittering items of clothing falling from sculpted muscles. Shimmering skin, glistening mouths...not for him any of it, because he couldn't bring himself to demand it...They had used to come so freely. He couldn't bear to see them come with dread or disgust in their eyes...

He'd watched Nathaniel dance as well. Admired the smooth movements, the strength of his lithe body. The auburn hair sweeping the floor; the gracefulness he displayed; cream colored temptation, spinning on the pole. He was indeed a find, he thought. Such a gem in the Guilty Pleasures stable. No wonder Jean-Claude took good care of him...and Damian seemed to be feeding him well; the cat beamed with joy and satisfaction while swaying his body to the throbbing rhythm of the music.

In love, Asher thought with amusement. So utterly and completely in love with the brooding, handsome vampire...

But it was Tamlin who was...nothing like expected. Masters gave out nothing but their power, which was why it was such a shock to see him there. First of all, he was beautiful; a sleek lean body, long, blue-black hair that swirled around his body in sleek tendrils.

Like liquid, Asher thought, watching him.

The rhythms were heavy, loud, ragged. This boy obviously preferred electric guitars to violins and saw the challenging twinkle in the young-looking vampire's grey eyes.

Strong lines in that face; angled and clean cut. Pink lips over sharp fangs...Ah, yes, his nipples were pink as well, confirmed when the vampire's black silk shirt came off. Rosy petals, matching a faint blush in his cheeks.

He knew how to move; all rocking hips and gliding motions. He touched himself with something resembling passion: Sliding his palm down his chest and circled his own nipples with head thrown back and eyes closed, offering his sensuality up to the audience.
Swirling in the blue lights, caressing his crotch through his jeans. His skin was pale and faintly shimmering. But it was the passion that surprised Asher; made him aware that he was still a male, though wrapped in this ugly body, wrapped in all these years...

Maybe it was because he could feel him too...Feel the tendrils of power, the strength. He wouldn't have, he realized, if he hadn't known it was there. Tamlin could hide it well. Just another pretty boy, gracing the club's stage. But no...this one was definitely more. Dark, radiating power; the flip side of it, Lust.

He was a beauty. A gem. A diamond in the rough.

The forceful movements, the undisguised display of desire...The knowledge that he preferred the male. No! Asher would not go there even for a brief second. He was not there to enjoy himself, not there to admire the sensual boys. He was there on business... Tamlin's dance was no part of it. Tamlin's dance was just disguise as it was. He was a talented dancer that doubtlessly had an erotic aura about him, but he was most of all a clever master-to-be. Clever, old...and doubtlessly with a dozen lovers or so in his nest, with his well-fed body and sensual movements all considered.

Asher felt suddenly weak. Somehow, he realized, even if they weren't from the same line, Tamlin was who he could have been if he hadn't been caught by humans: Cocky, strong and confident...using his body as a weapon and for display; a tempting jewel that would make most stubborn minds yield, especially when offered up like this...

Thankfully, for himself and Jean-Claude, Asher was not only old in this game, he was not a lover either.

He watched Tamlin hit the pole in a fluid motion, a silver-grey thong his only accessory. Watched the long, lean legs curl around the metal bar, pale and smooth...He noticed the oblivious expression on the vampire's face...the long lashes over sharp cheekbones, the coal black eye-brows dramatically drawn on the pearly skin and thought that this one could very well be a tough case. The confidence, the commitment to the teasing rhythms...Strong will and passion...they didn't need that paired with power in St.Louis.

No wonder Jean-Claude sent the monk to bring his offer, Asher thought a little bitterly, while the blue haired demon spun around the slick metal, caressing it with his skin. Dark blue hair flowing, lips slightly parted.

Somehow the dancer brought back the pain...but Asher wouldn't think about that.
He startled a bit though, anyway, when Tamlin looked straight at him while the music faded and the stage lights went out. Of course he would...he wouldn't be a budding master if he didn't. Still, to have the grey eyes focused on him in the shadows..have him meeting Asher's gaze with piercing pieces of silver: Did he really want to be the sole target for this clever creature's attention? he mused.

He was still sensually exposed on the stage floor, laying on his stomach with naked buttocks peeking through the veil of blue hair. Long, long legs, crossed over each other. Looking submissive and reeking of sex... Asher was to meet him backstage in a minute...

The narrow corridor behind the stage was crowded with technicians and dancers and Asher felt slightly uncomfortable. So many naked men, so little space. He had to press himself up against the wall to avoid touching a young werewolf seemingly dressed in only a fine layer of glitter dust. He knew very well he was entitled to walk straight ahead, in the middle of the hallway and expect them all to jump aside, being their master and employer’s right hand, but he didn't want to do that; this was their place more than his, they were working tonight, earning their money and maybe a bit of fun...he was not there to make a statement.

Besides, it was the surging lust, the pit of pleasure they radiated. The source of their energy: the aroused audience inside the public area. It made him uncomfortable, yes. Not because he wasn't used to seeing naked bodies, seeing the art of seduction unfold. He lived at the Circus, was a master; vampire politics was, and had always been, his game. But in their dealings, his and Jean-Claude's, as in every true master's affair, there was also a element of power. Power struggle, fight for dominance. The goal of it all was always a display or demonstration...power to be gained or lost. Not here. At Guilty Pleasure's, Jean-Claude's personal honey pot for the ardeur, it was merely about lust. Lust for lust's own sake. Just that: Arouse and be aroused. All revolving around the boys’ crotches; how they looked, smelled and tasted. How much money they could draw. It was about...pleasure, it felt nothing like a vampire banquet, nothing like the old French court. It felt young and energetic, the air loaded with promises and lust.

Asher did not feel welcome here. Creatures like him had no place...

He clenched his jaws hard when he entered the office at the end of the hall. Looked at the black and red interior and shrugged in the age-old Gallic way. He huddled inside of his ankle length cloak despite the practically boiling temperature and sat down in a well used leather chair. It had used to Jean-Claude's office, the current manager had a different taste...

Pictures of the boys hung pinned to the wall in front of him; faces, butts, hair...All a show off for business associates he reckoned. To let them see the quality of the flesh, the potential of the establishment's temptations...Guilty Pleasure's own sweet treats...How long had it been since someone measured him the same way he was looking at those pictures now? He saw Nathaniel's long hair up there...Tamlin's pale thighs and Jason's torso and sighed. So much beauty, so much passion...He regretted coming here. He regretted seeing the show.

The door opened and he thought no more, suddenly alert he turned to the open doorframe and focused. Nothing left of the pain inside, just business now. Just work. Still he wished, when he saw Tamlin, that the vampire had at least put his shirt back on. Alas not, leaning casually against the doorframe was the soon-to-be master in all his half-naked glory. His jeans were back though, although the buttons were open. A thin trickle of black hair disappeared below the denim, like a little dark river down the smooth vampire skin. He was tall and lean, even more so close up. His human complexion had to be very fair, Asher thought, not even Jean-Claude had that same optical illusion of glassiness about him, as if his body was sheathed in it; a fine layer that made his skin look hard and shimmering. His dyed hair contrasted beautifully with it, which was why it was dyed in the first place Asher assumed. He didn't get much time though, to measure the other: the grey gaze was not gentle or even curious but cut sharply through the air, challenging and quite amused.

"Asher!" the vampire grinned cheerfully. "I was wondering when one of you would show..."

Asher stretched on the chair. Met the other's gaze with his blue one. This was well known territory, oh yes, he could play this game.

"Find it amusing do you?" he looked at the other, challenging, smiling a little himself. Cool now, cool and calm.

"Well," Tamlin replied. "I'm a bit disappointed he didn't come in person, of course...The famous Jean-Claude, pet-cock of the Executioner, but I guess you'll do..." he beamed happily and crossed his arms in front of his chest.

Asher had expected no less. "What do you want?" he said simply.

"Well," Tamlin crossed his legs as well, seemed stupidly confident, leaning against the doorframe. "I want...a court and a territory of my own, possibly St.Louis," he added as an afterthought. " I want a pard and money and a harem of pretty boys. I want rich blood given freely from healthy youths, political allies, minions who can fight...the usual," he grinned.

Asher stifled a chuckle and looked at him with raised eye-brows.

"St.Louis belongs to Jean-Claude," he said calmly. "You have trespassed and ignored our laws by coming here..."

"No!" The cool stare from the door didn’t change. "I haven't," he said. "I was allowed. I am not a master. I just work here, for now...I have given Jean-Claude's accountants reasons to cheer, not to cry...The wine you are sipping at night could be bought by money I've put in his pockets. I have not been hostile...on the contrary."

Asher straightened in the chair. He had expected this.

"Still you have concealed yourself," he said. "You have kept your powers hidden from us, and your court. I understand you are looking for servants already-that is bold of you-but you can not pick from among Jean-Claude's people. It's against our laws and the rules of this city."

"A bitch's laws?" Tamlin replied ironically. "As I see it, St.Louis deserves a real master, not someone ruled by a woman..." he sighed. "Don't you think he is giving up an awfully lot for her," he added in a strangely soft voice. Asher knew where he was headed and he suddenly felt cold.

"Close the door," he said. It was a demand. "Close it!" His voice rose as did his body from the chair. Shouldn't let the brat get to him so easily, he thought. Shouldn't...but his nerves weren't all that strong tonight...he felt fragile. It was not good.

Lazily Tamlin straightened and padded in on the carpeted floor, turned around and closed the door. His eyes and expression gave nothing away when he turned around again, facing Asher, a few inches taller than the blond.

"Explain yourself," Asher told him. It was now the real battle began and something told him he wasn't as prepared as he ought to be. Or he had been, but the strip club had peeled it away...

Tamlin smiled a little. "I just find it peculiar." His well muscled arms were crossed in front of his chest again, he absentmindedly played with a nipple. Tweaked it and rubbed it between his fingers."That a master will risk it all, for a woman. The city, his reputation, his pride and respect...and you," he grinned, tossing his head and sending a few blue tresses of hair flying over his shoulder.

"Me?" Asher laughed loudly. Bared his fangs while he did. "I haven't been a part of our master's...romantic...dealings for centuries," he informed the other. "It has nothing to do with his dame, who also happens to be his human servant, as I'm sure you are quite aware," he continued. "As for the rest...The days of the dungeon courts are over, my friend. Jean-Claude sees other benefits than blood in the human population...He is a modern master, a man of this century," he exclaimed. "They are more than...servants and pards. Minions and pretty males..."

"Businesses and politics..."

"Yes! Other kinds of power! It does not, however, answer my question," Asher shot the other a icy stare. "What are you doing here? Why did you conceal who you are?"

"Because I am no one," the little smile was back on his lips.

"Who is your master?" Asher demanded.

"No one," Tamlin shot back.

"So how is it you claim not to be one yourself?" When tamlin didn't answer he continued: "I can feel it, your rising power...it is dark and it is there...right under your skin," he poked the other lightly in the ribs and quickly withdrew his hand. He looked so cold, but the vampire had been warm. Hot, in fact, as if he were carrying coals inside.

"Where are you from?" He sidetracked himself. Suddenly curious to where this creature was spawned.

"Hungary," Tamlin smiled.

"Tamlin is not a Hungarian name..."

"No, it's from a play...I used to be an actor."

Asher suddenly laughed. This creature was most peculiar he mused.

"Ah," he burst out. "Then the art of vampire politics should suit you well,"he smiled. "Not to mention your...current occupation," he added with a smirk.

Tamlin stood calmly with his serene expression unchanged. A hint of a smile, emotionless eyes. "Are you done now? " he asked. "Can I leave?"

Just like another employee, Asher thought and admired the way he juggled with his personas, like colorful balls in the air.

"No, I have a message from Jean-Claude." No more games. Soon this would be over with and Asher felt relieved.

"So I figured." Cocky again now. Confident to the core.

Asher met his gaze sternly, it was important that this message came through.

"You are to either appear at the Circus of the Damned within three days and live there while you stay in St.Louis, as Jean-Claude's honored guest, or leave the city."

"Or else?" Tamlin sounded anything but surprised.

"We will hunt you down and try you for trespassing."

"I didn't..."

"Stop it!" Asher's voice was stern, his blue eyes blazed with power. "You know what you did. You are clever.... But bending the rules will get you nowhere. Those are your options, now you choose!"

Tamlin stood firmly, no expression visible on his features.

"Hard to pick," he blinked with one eye. Pretended to ponder the options.

"Why did your old master send you away? Don't tell me it was out of annoyance," Asher said sarcastically. Such a childish stunt he thought. Silly...

"No," Tamlin moved a little on the spot, again teasing his own nipple. "I had to leave because I became a master," he said.

"But you are not one...yet."

"No," Tamlin replied again. "But he found it sort of uncomfortable being fucked by someone whose power was changing...I could grow stronger than him..." he smirked, confident, almost teasingly. Flirty...

Asher measured him coldly. "So you ran," he concluded. "There's a price on your head somewhere."

Tamlin finally looked away, just for a brief second, but a second was enough. Asher had won...

"Yes," Tamlin stated. " I am being sought for."

"And yet it didn't strike you as a good idea to seek out Jean-Claude for sanctuary?"

Tamlin's grey eyes suddenly glazed over with something hard and hard to define. "No...why would I seek another Master's protection...when I'll soon be one on my own," he stated. "It's just a matter of time, and I'm patient."

"No, you are not," Asher wrestled his gaze from the abused nipple to meet Tamlin's. "You are already choosing your court, or are trying to, picking them among our people. Not a wise move, stranger. We do not trust you...I'm sure you understand..."

A wide smile spread on Tamlin's features. "Ah...Sweet Nathaniel," he beamed. "But he is such a lovely creature...I love beautiful things," he grinned wickedly.

Somehow it stung. It stung and he didn't know why. Just knew that it annoyed him, made him irritable and impatient. He cocked his head slightly and measured the other through a veil of golden hair. "We do not like it," he said firmly. His nostrils flared and his voice rose slightly. "You are to stay away from him and anyone belonging to Jean-Claude."

"And her," the vampire still smiled.

"Yes," it came out through clenched teeth. Suddenly his calm had fled. He had no idea why, but it was gone. He felt old and tired. Tired to the core..."hers too," he said impatiently.

"So you're telling me it isn't true she’s the reason you were turned from his bed?" A challenging twinkle in grey depths. Amused voice, curious too...Asher didn't bother to reply. He wanted this over with, Tamlin gone from his sight. "And is it true,” the other vampire continued without mercy, "that you love him so deeply you won't take another lover, haven't done so, since you lost him?"

"None of your concern..." What was this arrogant creature up to? Questioning him? Accusing him...digging into that wound with evil claws.

"Is it true then?" His voice was breathless. Asher thought he could spot cruel curiosity in his eyes.

"No!" And it was true. That was not the reason why...surely the boy knew that. Of course he knew, everyone knew!

"Really? Then why?" Tamlin was ready to milk his anger, his slip of control...Milk it for what it was worth, wasn't he? Beautiful...cold... and evil. Asher would not let him do that. Mock him, that's what he did...this worshiper of beauty, collector of the lovely.

Suddenly he snapped, his hand reached for the other's throat but tangled in blue hair: A moments fiery rage, a slip, and an impulse formed in his head. He acted it out without thinking. Foolish that, he couldn't remember the last time it had happened.

"This...is why!" His own voice sounded harsh and he pressed his lips to Tamlin's.Crushed the pink perfection with his mouth, breathed in the scent of his skin, so warm...He was going to withdraw when the lips parted; invited him into smoldering heat. A slick, warm tongue coiled out to lick his lips and Asher let him, let him slip inside. So long since he'd felt a touch like this: Slick tongues entwining, caressing lips. Saliva mingling and breaths mixed. His skin so near him, he was holding him now, his naked back under Asher's palms, long fingers laced behind his neck: Tamlin was holding him too.

What was this...? Such a lie!

With a startled outburst he turned his head, ripped his lips from the other's and pushed him from his body. Breathed, stumbled. Met a heavy, laden gaze. Grey. Cheeks flushed with pink.

It was a lie. It was mockery.

"Go away!" He turned his back to Tamlin."Get out!" he shouted and stood stiff and pained, glued to the spot until he heard the other close the door behind him.





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