II

He was an old vampire, he should be able to regain his calm, make it just a moment in time, a mistake nothing more...leave it behind. It meant nothing, had no impact...He was a powerful creature; calm and composure was at his command. Still he had allowed this thing, this slip, to disturb his balance. He was disappointed in himself, that was it. Disappointed that after all this time he hadn't come further; still his control was a fragile one, he was still a man, with pride - and desires. All that which should have been left behind, been erased, still lived inside; close to the surface. *Too* close to the surface...He had failed in this act of control and mind molding and the result was pain. For him.

He found himself seeking the solitude of his chambers. Needed to be alone to battle down the grief. The big, black monster of despair that had slipped from it's confines and was roaming his soul again. He had allowed it to come back; now he had to fight it.

Not for me, he kept repeating, willing his mind to accept it: None of it, was for him anymore.

When he'd left the club after his encounter with Tamlin he'd been shaken to his core by it all! Not only by his own failure but by the other's answering actions as well. Unable to let it go...that was weakness, he scolded himself. Meant nothing, yet...

He should never have let that happen, should never have let those playful boys and his own sorrow get to him...make him snap like that. It was not suitable for a vampire of his stature. He had wanted to...punish Tamlin. Force him to feel Asher's pain. Scare him, maybe...Let him taste the ugliness he loathed so. Maybe most of all punish himself; let it be proven once again how undesirable he'd become. How little tempting...his scars, his ruined beauty. Tamlin had been *there*, in the office, Tamlin had also been the one who had ignited the fire that night; more than anyone else's it was *his* pale hips and round buttocks under blue hair that had thrown Asher off balance...So it was he who had to punish Asher; show him how useless lust was for him. How he didn't have a right to feel it, that it was an insult in itself, to any man, to have his desire bestowed up on them...Oh yes, Asher was not foolish, he was old...He could analyze any action, any thought pattern and see where it came from, understand what it was...He had wanted to kiss Tamlin. Had wanted to kiss him to taste him and to punish himself for that same desire.

So what had expected? A girlish slap? An outburst of disgust? Ice cold indifference? In Tamlin's case; the latter. What he had *not* expected was to suddenly have his arms full of willing pale flesh and to have his mouth plundered by a hot and clever tongue. He had pretended to meet him in lust. Asher wondered why...He could think of many reasons, of course: His ties to Jean-Claude, his own position and power. Tamlin himself, perhaps used to kissing less than desirable creatures. He'd survived for centuries and had doubtlessly done worse and maybe even learned to find some pleasure in it, who knew? You could adjust to a lot for survival. Asher, if any, knew that... What bothered him about it however was that a silly, stupid part of him kept tormenting him with dreams and desires; a part of him wanted to pretend it had been real. That Tamlin had felt real passion, a desire, for him. That he could have...taken the stripper in that office and been met with a lust and fire that equaled his own. That the yielding vampire would actually have welcomed his touch and found pleasure in it, just for pleasure's sake.

He was good, Tamlin...He had almost been fooled.

Once his mind had dared to peek behind that corner; look at the possible scenarios that could have followed after the kiss, if he hadn't regained his senses and broken off the connection, it simply wouldn't let it be: Again and again he saw himself licking at the slender body; nipples, stomach, thighs...Again and again he saw himself diving into a nest of blue hair, tasting pink lips...He saw Tamlin on the desk; legs spread. He saw Tamlin on all fours on the floor, he saw him in the old, leather chair; draped over Asher's lap; all of the scenes, of course, with two things in common: Asher fucking him and Tamlin wanting it.

He pictured how Tamlin's face would look like when he reached his peak, imagined what sounds he'd make...What it would feel like to have the radiating power of the other mingling with his own. He wondered about other things too: What Tamlin's erection would feel like, pressed against Asher's stomach and under his hand; how he would taste - spilling himself in Asher's mouth. How it would feel like to penetrate the lean body or to have those rosy lips embracing him...that clever tongue; blue hair moving between his legs: Asher pictured a lot of things and loathed himself more with every passing image and scenario.

It was not his place, not his world...To imagine it happening, a curse and an insult to everything beautiful and desirable...It had been a long time since he'd stopped dreaming, to take up the habit now was a very bad idea...

He knew it so well, it was a lie. It had all been a vampire's game. There had been a plan; to sleep with Asher, just a piece of the puzzle; a means to gain something; a prize. Asher...was not that prize.

The more he thought about it the clearer he could see how Tamlin had played him; pushed him...The naked body, the tweaking of the nipple, the intimate and sexually related questions...Yes, he was a clever devil that one. He had wanted him to snap and give in to his urges; was probably more than happy with himself now for making Asher lose his wits in passion. He had expected the kiss, that's how it was. Had expected it and been prepared, had probably hoped to seduce him: Seduce himself into one of the master bedrooms of the Circus. He'd thought Asher a fool; weak because of his marred features. An easy target, that's what he'd thought...someone who would get easily intrigued by a sweep of blue hair and sensual movements.

Alas, the younger one had been right: He had swallowed the bait head on. Now, he was paying the price: It was all brought forth again; the pain and the self-loathing. The hunger...

If it ever came to a clash between the soon-to-be Master and Jean-Claude, he would ask to have Tamlin for a lesson in pleasure. It would not be nice: it would be punishment and satisfaction, the latter for Asher but not for the other. A part of him, he realized, sincerely hoped that it would be so...A part of him genuinely desired that, to have Tamlin's body at his mercy, bound and gagged. Both to humiliate him, pain him, have his revenge...and to fuck him. Get rid of the devastating desire the other had brought on. Empty himself and find his release between the blue-haired man's pearly thighs. It was anger, it was lust...it was hating himself, passionately. Feeling stupid, being tricked...and not being able to let go of the want. What a sad creature he was! So weak! So utterly stupid!

He said nothing to Jean-Claude about the kiss. Said nothing of any of it to anyone. Just that the message had been delivered, now all they could do was wait to see how the master-to-be would choose to act.

He came on the third night; nothing else was expected. If he was to come, it would be at that point. Not a minute too early, this vampire knew the rules of the game.

When Jean-Claude summoned Asher to his private chambers he instinctively knew what it was about; *who* it was. He walked the dungeons with dread in his steps. His mind steeled and hardened by every passing minute. He would glaze over, he would handle this. The cards were back in his hand. He would not fail in his own game again. Much too old for that; much too strong...

Indifference, that was the key he figured while walking the narrow corridors. Professionalism and indifference. He'd subtly let the brat know that he had no hold on him, what so ever, despite their shared saliva.

Thankfully, only Jean-Claude was there when he entered, draped on his white sofa, dressed in silver and black. Slick curls and midnight gaze. Beautiful as ever, his Jean-Claude. He beamed up at him when he entered.

"Asher, mon ami," he smiled and lifted the little crystal glass he held in his hand in a toast. "You were successful," he stated. "The Master of flying garments is here with his pommes de sang...Very beautiful boys," he mused. "I may have to borrow both of them some time." He grinned. "For the blood of course," he added with a innocent smile.

Asher gave a twitch of his mouth, amused, but bitterly so.

"Have you seen him yet?" he asked. Ignored the reference to the humans he'd brought. Beautiful all, of course.

"No...I waited for you," Jean-Claude replied. "You are the one who knows him better...and it's this little detail of me being his employer as it is..." Jean-Claude sighed and trailed off.

"Be careful, he is clever," Asher burst out. "Much more so than you think."

Jean-Claude gave him an amused look;

"He is a mere child, as Master concerned...amusing, yes, but I do not fear him, if anything I'm annoyed by his trespassing, his behavior...He doesn't concern me much but...should he?" Jean-Claude's intelligent eyes measured Asher, trusted his judgment.

"What are the words on him?" Asher replied with a question.

"Ah," Jean-Claude swirled the wine in his glass, watched the red liquid as it flushed over the crystalline surface."Nothing much is known about him. Leads me to believe he was never expected to rise to full power by his former Master..."

Asher smiled slightly. "He is a snake," he said. "He can be calm and concealed, pose as no threat, then strike. He is good, Jean-Claude, very intelligent...Maybe his master did not see it coming, but I am fairly sure Tamlin did..."

Jean-Claude just looked at him for a minute, pondered his words in his clever mind. When he spoke again, something calculating, alert and feral had come into his gaze.

"So what do you reckon are his plans, mon ami?" he asked. Stretched his legs on the white cushion.

"I don't know," Asher replied instantly. "The obvious thing is to challenge your power, yet he is too clever to do that...He is biding his time however, he is not fully a master yet..."

"True," Jean-Claude had a sip of wine. "I must have a look at this creature then," he stated. "Have a seat, mon ami...Let us call him in."

"I'll rather stand, for now," his throat suddenly felt uncomfortably tight and he made a quick motion with his head, adjusting the golden drape of hair to hide his face better. He straightened his black, velvet waistcoat and realized he was nervous. The knowledge was devastatingly harsh and cruel. He turned his back to the chamber a whole and automatically sought the shadows in a corner, placed himself there, with just his one eye having a clear view of the room. Wanted to melt with the darkness, wished that he was a spirit; floating freely, not bound to this marred flesh, this physical mess. He felt vulnerable like a human in that moment and he loathed that fact.

He hated the sting in the pit of his stomach when the long, lean vampire entered the room too. Hated how he couldn't bring himself to look at him, not steer his gaze in Tamlin's direction. He could just sense him: The moving, swirling tendrils of darkness, his untamed power radiating in the room.

His one eye caught a glimpse of slick blue and he closed it for a second...did not want to see.

"Greetings, Jean-Claude, Master of St.Louis," Tamlin's deep voice sounded. Always a hint of amusement in that voice, like he wasn't completely sincere. Yet his words were correct and polite enough. It was this playfulness, Asher realized, it unnerved him...

"At last we meet," Jean-Claude's velvety purr of a voice replied calmly. "Have a seat, Tamlin, some wine...?"

Sounds of crystal, pouring liquid, a rustle in silk as Tamlin took a seat by the Master's table.

"Asher...will you join us?" Jean-Claude's voice, never leaving his best friend out, even when he ought to. With something close to dread Asher turned around and faced the scenario by the table: Jean-Claude's diamond studs glittered in his ears, framed by heavy black locks, his half open black shirt revealed some of his cross shaped scar that connected them, Asher and him, kept them together...Memories of a golden past lost.

He glided towards the table with just a brief glance in Tamlin's direction. A glance was enough: the tall vampire sat in one of Jean-Claude's white chairs, legs crossed, a crystal glass in his hand. He was dressed formally yet casually from his original time. White, ruffled shirt and black pants tucked in knee high, shiny leather boots with a bit of heel. His blue hair was gathered in a silvery looking clasp by his neck, making the shape of the triangular face more apparent; naked and undisguised. The set of the grey eyes, teasing, twinkling under long, black lashes. A slight smile. Calm yet expectant, as if he waited for some kind of reaction. Scanning Asher's face for signs.

A sign that he had tricked him, Asher thought. That he had some kind of hold on him...had made some sort of impression. By God he was going to deny him that pleasure!

A few strands of blue hang loose on each side of Tamlin's face, framing the sharp angles beautifully; making them a little softer, more androgynous. Not as pretty as Jean-Claude but handsome.

It angered him, Asher realized. It angered and annoyed him that this vampire sat there by his dearest friend's table looking beautiful and confident. Like a feral and proud animal, sipping his wine from Jean-Claude's cellar and nurturing this little dark secret in his heart. He had already seen Asher broken and lost; had already beaten the second in command just by being his seductive self.

Asher hated that fact. Hated that seeing him again made him feel this way too; anger was not indifference. Anger was not - dignity. With his lips pressed tightly together he sat down in the other chair, having Tamlin and Jean-Claude on each side, his smooth, healthy hand reached for a empty glass on the table, Jean-Claude poured the wine, of which he was grateful, he didn't trust his own hand right now. Didn't want to give Tamlin any sign.

What did the other expect anyway? Asher wondered. That he would blush and yearn for him? Give him shy glances or tokens of desire? He smiled inwardly at the thought.
He decided not to look at the other unless forced to, but it was hard, as the smooth feel of him embraced his being, the peculiar light in his grey eyes seemed to draw his gaze to it.

"We meet again," Tamlin nodded slightly to him from his sitting position. Calm and concealed; the fire inside.

"Tamlin," he succeeded in making his sound voice steady, not give away his anger. He even managed a little, cold smile. Met his gaze without yielding. A little test that, when blue met grey across the table. Both of them passed. They lifted their glasses and drank...

Did he still desire him? Asher tormented himself while letting the wine fill the cave of his mouth. Yes he did, he realized bitterly. He still admired the slender legs and the translucent skin. Still wished beyond reason to touch and stroke across his thighs and buttocks, smell the scent of black-blue hair. Such foolishness, that, he scolded himself. Such utter stupidity...

He broke off the stare and focused on Jean-Claude again; well-known territory. Safety in that sight.

"I am thrilled to see you will accept my invitation," Jean-Claude was his own, charming self. "I hope your stay with us will be a pleasant one," he added with a wink and a smile. Implying what they all knew; there had never been much of a choice involved.

"I am most honored that the Master of St.Louis wishes to take me into his household," Tamlin replied, servile. "Few of his employees are bestowed that honor," he continued. Still acting out his masquerade of innocence, yet knowing very well they both knew...Still he couldn't help but dare them...challenge them to voice it out loud. Give him the credit he deserved.

"I don't often see Masters on my stage," Jean-Claude smiled slightly. Willing to give him the title, but not to make a number out of it. "A most unusual profession for a vampire with power such as yours," he added. Silk clad insult in that, a well-honeyed dagger.

Tamlin smiled, pretended to be coy and bothered. "Ah, but Jean-Claude," he said. "My power is not as yours, it's new and untamed, I am not much of of a master, really!" He blinked innocently. "I never thought the Master of the City would bother with someone like me," he added sweetly. Implied that Jean-Claude's power had to be weak for him to feel threatened by Tamlin.

He was good, Asher unwillingly admitted, for someone so new to his power he was very confident and obviously not new to games such as this.

"You are going after my people," Jean-Claude stabbed. "In a foul mood I would see that as an insult and have you tried," he continued. "But you are raw...unpolished..." he measured Tamlin over the rim of his glass. His eyes a pair of deep blue twin stars, glittering and intense. "I will give you a chance to behave...Maybe you'll even benefit from it, young master..." he titled him. Asher realized with a start that the statement probably meant that Jean-Claude saw some kind of potential there, that he reckoned Tamlin's growing power a force to soothe and nurture into friendliness, not dismiss... So he could feel it too then, he mused. The dark, pulsing waves of power radiating from Tamlin...

Tamlin was no fool, he saw this too. "I am flattered," he said and for once he sounded sincere. "And I am not...blind," he continued. "To the benefits of your court...your dealings with the humans," he lowered his gaze to his lap, a submissive act. He would be good, for now...

"Also," Jean-Claude purred. "The pard is your animal to call...Alas, the Nimir-Ra of this city is pledged to me...but that does not mean you can't make connections. The Nimir-Raj knows of many masterless pards..." he trailed off, lay out a bait.

"Why are you offering me this?" Steel and clarity. No disguise at all, the grey gaze pierced the air like silver lightning. He could be most impressive when demanding, Tamlin...The trait of a master. Or master to-be...

"Alliances, of course," Jean-Claude's fangs glinted in the light from the chandelier. "And a desire to know who controls the pards...I am so tired of," he waved with his hand to catch the English word, "Brutes. Ignorant...Old fashioned fools," he concluded. "You are a young master and in touch with our time, you work at the Guilty Pleasures for reasons unknown but it's proving my point, and I believe that if you learned some etiquette, like keeping your hands off my people and not trespassing into my territory you can become someone good, for me...our kind," he concluded and left Asher stunned again. Jean-Claude hardly ever gave so freely. Knowing his friend however there had to be some clever planning behind this.

Tamlin too, was surprised, but he concealed it well. Still there were hints of amazement in his voice when he spoke. "You are honest," he stated. "No vampire with power has ever been so frank..."

"I know," Jean-Claude waved it away. "But you came to my city, you are working at my club and you attack my cat, you were screaming to be found...by me...no other. You sought me and I have answered your call. You are new to this power and clever. I can see what you want...Insult me as much as you like, young master, but there is no need. You came to learn from me and I will teach you." He sat his glass down on the table. "Rule number one: we do not have to play this game between us. I see you, and what you can become. You know what I am. We don't have to act like rivaling ulfrics. I need good allies. You need to learn. You were never after my city, am I right?"

"Of course not," Tamlin batted his lashes.A slight smile was playing on his lips. Asher couldn't help but admire Jean-Claude's clear sight in this. How he'd peeled the younger one's layers of concealment away and exposed the core...

It finally made true sense to him, the act in the office at the club. If none of his other stunts worked, seducing the second in command would surely gain him Jean-Claude's attention...

"I assume you will be staying then," Jean-Claude stated calmly. "You will be moving around freely of course, and you can consider yourself freed from your duties at the Guilty Pleasures," he added.

Tamlin met Jean-Claude's gaze across the table. "If you don't mind I'd like to keep the position," he said.

"No? Why?" It was Jean-Claude's turn to be surprised. "There's no need for you to hide anymore...and you are not of our line..." he added. "Even if you sometimes act like it," he winked.

"True, I do not feed on desire," Tamlin smiled. "It is a personal desire...a passion..."

"You like to dance?" Jean-Claude asked him amused.

"No," Tamlin dropped his gaze, "I like getting undressed," he stated and made the other laugh out loud.

"Ah," Jean-Claude uttered when he was done laughing, "You will fit well at the Circus and I am sure we will get to know each other well...don't you think, Asher? Tamlin will like it here?" he asked.

"Oh, he will," Asher said without passion but smiled. Felt suddenly drained by the idea of having him around.

"And you, Asher?" Tamlin's deep voice sounded. "Will you help me become a better a master too?" The smile was doubtlessly ironical with a hint of something else to it...

"Of course, if you think you need my help," Asher said, strangely stiff, moving uncomfortably in the chair. What was the purpose of this, he wondered? Why the amused gaze and the teasing smile? Mocking him like this in front of Jean-Claude would do him no good, surely the younger one realized as much.

Jean-Claude frowned a bit but didn't comment, Asher was grateful for that. The casual looking stripper unnerved him and annoyed him again.

So fragile, he scolded himself again...The slightest stir in those waters and he was a mess once more. He realized with devastating clarity he had to stay away from the grey-eyed one...This attraction had no place and was humiliating, Tamlin probably knew that, why else would he bring it up, no matter how innocent, even Jean-Claude had felt the tension...

"Good then," Jean-Claude rose as a sign Tamlin was free to go. " I have things to attend to," he stated. " If you need help to find your way back to your rooms, just wait in the corridor and Asher will walk you there in a minute," he added in a professional tone and bowed slightly. Received the same token and a silent smile from Tamlin in reply. The graceful dancer slid across the floor to the heavy door to the hallway. Asher remained seated. Watched his friend with expectant eyes when the door closed behind him.

"You don't trust him, do you?" he asked with a knowing smile playing on his lips.

"No, not at all! Do you?" Jean-Claude asked him back, arched one eye-brow ironically. "It's as you say, he is too clever for his own good...let's see if we can figure him out..." he added with a smile. The thrill of the challenge visible in his twinkling gaze.

Asher laughed. "Ah, mon ami...To think he is the one who is an actor..." he mused and shook his head.

"I want you to watch him for me, Asher," Jean-Claude said as an afterthought. "Watch him and make sure he doesn't do any harm."

Asher felt as if he'd been stabbed in his gut with something sharp and covered in salt. Was he to tell him, he wondered, that his own misplaced desire for the slender dancer made it a hard and difficult request? That Tamlin had already seduced him once?

"Of course," he said calmly, couldn't face the shame. "I will keep an eye on him," he assured his Master.

*

"Why is it that you both distrust me so? I ought to be hurt!" Tamlin's playful voice sounded loud in the stoned, torch lit corridor of the Circus. Asher gave him a surprised glance but said nothing.

"He is letting you stay here, to come and go as you like...I'd hardly call that distrust," he stated calmly while walking beside their blue-haired guest, wishing each corner to be the last, although he knew they still had a good five minutes walk ahead of them.

Tamlin gave him a teasing glance. "Are you my watcher?" he asked. "Not that I mind," he added with a smirk.

Asher admired the way he walked; casual elegance, grace in each step.The narrow waist, the swaying hips. He burned inside. Ached...

"Do you need a watcher?" he shot back, better to concentrate on the dancer's games, not his butt.

"Depends," Tamlin smiled slightly,"on exactly what it is he's watching," he turned his head a bit and winked at him.

Asher cursed himself. Had Tamlin seen it? he wondered. How he'd eaten him with his gaze? His well developed and polished wits had fled. Asher could think of nothing clever to say...which was unnerving in itself.

"I will be good," Tamlin assured him with sugar in his voice. The double meaning put Asher off. Why was he flirting with him? Why?!

He wished he could have a peek inside his mind, figure out his motivations. Maybe he was just having fun with a cripple, he figured. The amusingly ugly Asher who couldn't keep his eyes off his rear...

"You better," Asher smiled slightly. "Have no illusions, " he said. "You can still be tried..."

"And who will punish me if I get convicted?" Tamlin's hot breath brushed his ear and Asher shivered. The other's voice was dripping with it now; dark seduction. Sweet and tempting.

Damn this creature, Asher cursed inside. Damn him and his grip on him! How had this happened?! Was it some kind of spell? Was he a vampire wizard of sorts, in league with a witch?! Or just...sexy?

He hated his own position in this too...To be the dry reason, the bloodless monk. The stable and wise old man. He had used to have so much fire and spark, had fed on passion, stirred and consumed it. Raging lust without boundaries. Now, he felt pale and ashen, grey and dusty next to this slick creature that once would have been a dream but now was a nightmare: Torment, for the faded and ugly ones. Like him...

"You wouldn't like being at my mercy, Tamlin," he said bitterly, flashes of his own visions of sexual torment...forced, scarred closeness, haunted him.

"Oh, I think I would," Tamlin still spoke hotly. "As long as it involved us both being naked," he added seductively and shot him a laden, grey glance.

Such mockery, Asher thought bitterly. How stupid did he think he was?

"Or do you save such games for your Master?" Tamlin added in a curious, colder tone.
Jean-Claude again, Asher sighed. What was this? Did he want to bed Jean-Claude?

"Jean-Claude and I are not lovers," he said calmly while his mind repeated the dreadful scene the last time they had tried to be just that, with Anita. The event that had forever extinguished his hopes about making her their new Julianna...The executioner's anger, his realization that she was crippling Jean-Claude with her demands...His last hope, the last ray of light...gone with that night.

"Can we fuck then?" Long pale fingers laced with his and he startled out of his thoughts. It took him a moment to comprehend the meaning of the words. At first they left him stunned. He looked at Tamlin; the snickering face, the piercing gaze, the seductive glow of it all and frowned, then he got angry.

"Stop it," he said coolly and withdrew his hand. Tamlin let it go without protest.

"Why?" he asked simply. "I can tell that you want me... Is there another, a jealous lover?"

Ah, he was rude this one. Rude and too brave for his own good.

"It would make you feel good, wouldn't it? To have Jean-Claude's second in your bed, hm? But Tamlin, I can not picture it, I don't lay myself down for anyone." It hadn't come out exactly as planned. The bold moves on the other's part was shaking his balance and thoughts swarmed like bees through his mind, confused him, utterly...He couldn't quite figure the other one out. He had wanted it to be a clear rejection, a warning that he saw the hidden motivations. Instead it had become a confession of sorts. An admittance of his own solitude.

Tamlin chuckled softly beside him. "Oh, I'd let you be on top," he smiled. "I can be perfectly comfortable on my back, even if it's not my chosen position...for you however, I think it would be worth it," he mused out loud and Asher shook his head. Suddenly he felt tired, and sad.

"Don't, Tamlin," he warned the other. "Don't push this any further...it won't do any good, for any of us..."

Finally curiosity repressed the teasing look on Tamlin's face, but just for a moment, then he said, "On the contrary, I think it'll do a lot of good," the confident, teasing smile was back.

Asher despaired and gave a deep sigh of relief when they turned the corner to the corridor leading to Tamlin's rooms. Soon it would be over, he thought, and he could ponder it all and what actions to take then, in solitude. He felt torn and beaten, strained. Being the target of this vampire's honey-smothered poison was hell. It took all his restraint not to snap. And the self-loathing, dear God, he thought, where did this silly weakness come from? That made him mourn the fact this passion was not for real.

"Here we are," he said without emotion, deliberately calm and cool. He motioned to the door and was going to bow and withdraw when Tamlin suddenly acted. He wrapped him in slender, white clad arms, they coiled around Asher's waist, stroked up his back while he pressed Asher's body to his own.

Blue hair was tickling Asher's neck, firm limbs were tightly wrapped around him. A lean torso pressed against his own and slices of silvery grey eyes twinkled in front of him. Asher gave a startled sound and a strong urge to break free and flee overwhelmed him, yet his pride kept him back. The young vampire was not to see him run...

The blue-haired vampire licked his lower lip with the tip of a pink, slick tongue. "A kiss then, Asher? You know it'll be good," he purred.

His face came closer and Asher panicked, yet he felt frozen to the spot, mesmerized by the other's face that steadily moved in closer. He wanted it so much, to feel those lips upon his, yet he knew it would be a serious mistake.

"Asher," Tamlin breathed with his lips mere inches from his, and broke the spell. The mocking illusion of passion in his voice, the way he took his name in his mouth and threw it out as a lie made Asher burn with sudden rage and he threw the other from his body with violent force.

Tamlin hit the opposite wall with a cracking sound. Asher sincerely wished he'd broken something.

"How dare you?!" he spat. "Such mockery!" He raged. " I will not have it! You are a fool, Tamlin!" he continued furious. " I am what I am but I am stronger than you, much stronger...don't you ever forget that! I can not be fooled!" He shouted and grabbed the other again by the shirt and was about to throw him into the other wall when a deep moan made him pause, freeze in motion with the other's limp body close to his own. Cold, tendrils of dread and astonishment moved through his body as he realized that the other had surrendered to him, leaned in without restrain and pressed a firm, hard erection to his thigh. His grey gaze was blurred and wanton, he pressed himself closer and rubbed himself slightly against Asher's body. His arms hung limp by his sides in an act of surrender but his head leaned on Asher's shoulder and his torso pressed against his. And he was erect, no doubt. The cock moved on Asher's thigh through layers of fabric. Long and slender like the rest of the vampire. Moist lips touched his neck now, hot breath, soft caresses.

"No!" It was a scream and he flung Tamlin backwards, back against the wall. "What kind of freak are you?!" Asher burned with rage again. Tamlin slowly focused, his gaze still blurred. He stretched his long, pale neck and touched his fingers to his lips. They were glistening with moisture. Asher hated him.

"Go play with your boys," he snapped out of nowhere. Something cried in his chest but he ignored it. "I will not be a part of your games..."

Fuming with anger he turned his back to the other and quickly made his way back down the corridor. By each step the anger crumbled and deep, black sadness took its place.


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