Not bothering to hide the feral smile that slowly stretched across his lips, Christian stood at the top of the ramp, taking a moment to admire the view in the ring. He wasn't one to usually let his emotions show so plainly on his face, but this time - he couldn't resist.

    Shane McMahon looked delicious.

    Running down his cheeks and face, the blood stained pale skin and clung to his hair, causing it to mat and clump against his
forehead. Drops floated on the tips of eyelashes, dripping off slowly to splat on his cheek, it lingered on his lips and dribbled down his chin. Wonderful, just wonderful. His shirt was clinging to him nicely, and Christian imagined the crimson liquid running down the curve of his back, and sinking into the flesh underneath. And, although he could hardly say that he was into animal blood, Christian would of taken great joy in licking every last drop off the heir apparent's body.

    They should of given him a blood bath a lot sooner. Shane looked good in red.

    In the ring, Shane tried his best to control his urge to just scream and scream at the top of his lungs. His arms shook at his sides and he brought his hands up to look at the thick, red substance that coated them. It was real blood, it was real blood, he chanted the mantra over and over again in his head. Shuddering hard, Shane clenched his eyes shut, but that only served to intensify the sensation of the blood covering him; the taste of it in his mouth, and the feel of it on his skin. Not being able to resist the urge any longer, Shane opened his mouth.... and screamed.

     Licking his lips with an audible smack, Christian watched the backstage monitor as Shane swung out blindly at the Corporate Ministry members that dared to get too close; screaming gibberish and wiping uselessly at blood stained sleeves with blood stained hands.

    He was definitely a treat.

    Edge, who was watching his brother as intensely as the younger man was watching Shane, shook his head disapprovingly but
couldn't help but smile just a little bit. "Groupies are one thing, bro, but going after the boss' son is just too big of a risk. Tell me you'll forget about Shane McMahon."

    Still dripping from the bloodbath, Shane had calmed down enough for Chyna to get close and put an arm around him, speaking softly in his ear as she guided him out of the ring. The rest of the Corporate Ministry, with the exception of the Undertaker, kept a discreet distance as they made their way backstage. Vince seethed silently behind his son, no doubt plans for revenge already forming in his head.

    Shane's arms were wrapped tightly around himself, and brown eyes blinked open and shut repeatedly as the blood started to clot on his eyelashes and lids. Then he looked up into the camera, and for a moment, Christian found himself in eye contact with the heir apparent. He shook his head slowly, "Sorry, brother, but I'm afraid Shane McMahon is just too tempting a prospect to pass up." He took off his sunglasses and tucked them neatly into his breast pocket, blinked innocently at his older sibling. "Trust me, Edge. I'll be careful."

    Rolling his eyes slightly, Edge dried his brow with a towel and started to go through his gym bag. "Fine, go do what you have to do. But don't expect me to bail you out if you get into tro - " he looked up. Christian had already left.

    Shane sat on the couch in his hotel room, his arms still wrapped around himself as he tried to forget the feel of the bloodbath on him. He had taken three showers, working the water and soap over his body until the drain had been thick with red foam, but he still felt dirty. He could still taste it in his mouth, despite having used half a tube of toothpaste, and he felt as if his vision had gone red from the thin sheen of blood that he swore he felt on his eyes. He shuddered, what a nightmare. Why him? Why had the Brood decided to drench him? He had stayed out of the way for the match, had never really provoked the Brood in any way.

    Standing on shaky legs, but starting to feel a little better as he realized that his hands weren't still stained in red, Shane made his way over to the bar and poured himself a drink. Vodka straight up seemed appropriate for such an occasion.

    When the sudden draft filled the room, causing the curtains to reach out towards him, Shane shivered slightly but didn't think much of it as he walked over to close the window while taking sips from his drink. He needed some sleep, and maybe when he woke up in the morning he'd be able to put the whole thing behind him. Unwillingly the image of Al Snow walking around in his blood stained wrestling gear a week after his own run in with the Brood came to mind, but Shane quickly dismissed it. He wasn't Al Snow, that guy had been nuts before he had ever come into contact with the Brood.

    The bedroom's lights had been nicely dimmed and the bed covers pulled back, ready for him, and Shane smiled a little. What
would he do without Chyna? Sometimes her hovering and concern could be annoying, but at times like this he welcomed it with open arms.

    Passing the full length mirror that stood next to the elaborate wooden wardrobe, Shane paused to study his reflection. Dressed in a t-shirt, sweat pants and socks, he looked like he was about twelve years old and he couldn't help but frown slightly. No wonder he had been the one to get treated by the Brood, he was a walking target. A fucking weak link.

    The brown eyes of his reflection blinked at him and he was just raising the glass to his lips when he felt the warm puffs of breath on the back of his neck. "Good evening..."

    The glass fell from his suddenly boneless fingers and hit the carpet with a dull thud, not breaking but spilling its contents on the floor and his foot. He spun around quickly, his heart thumping, and he leapt back inadvertently colliding with the mirror.

    "How the hell did you get in here?" he demanded, trying not to let his fear show through in his voice. "W-what do you want?"

    Christian's hands were entwined neatly behind his back as he gave the other man a careful once over, studying every inch of the heir apparent's body with a tempted look before replying. His voice was deep and smooth, and just the barest hint of a smile twitched across his lips as he spoke. "Contrary to popular belief, we don't have to be invited to come into someone's bedroom."

    Swallowing hard, Shane stepped away from the mirror and backed off a few steps. Jesus Christ, he hadn't seen Christian coming, he didn't have a reflection! "This is crazy," Shane gasped, "You're not - you're not really a vampire." But even as he spoke he looked over his shoulder at the mirror, and sure enough, instead of seeing an image of the other man he saw instead the desk and chair behind him. "Get the hell away from me!"

    "'Fraid I can't do that, Shane," Christian said, slowly and casually advancing upon the other man, "You see....you've piqued my interest."

    "Then get a fucking hobby, just get the hell out of my hotel room!" Shane snapped, and he eyed the telephone in the other room tensely. Could he reach it in time? And if he didn't, what would Christian do to him? Hell, what would Christian do to him if he just stood there like an idiot?

    The smile on Christian's face stretched into something feral and Shane surppressed a shiver, "I'm not here to hurt you, Shane. In fact, if you co-operate, you might even enjoy yourself."

    Making a disgusted face, Shane continued to back away as the other man slowly started towards him again, "I'm not doing a
damn thing with you."

    "You talk like you have a choice."

    Shane felt his fear escalate a few notches, and he stopped abruptly when the back of his legs met with the edge of the bed. "So what are you hear for, huh?" he demanded, trying to sound braver then he felt. Then, snidely, "You want to suck my blood?"

    Licking his lips, Christian stared at the throbbing pulse on Shane's neck, felt his eyes glow at the sight of the blue veins
underneath pale flesh. So young, and untainted; tender cheeked and fresh from a shower, his eyes seemed luminous in the dimness of the bedroom light, and lush lips trembled slightly in fear. The smell of fear, the ultimate aphrodisiac. Oh yes, what a treat this young man was.

    Noticing the hungry look, Shane lost whatever grip on the situation he had and tried to side-step the other man to escape the
room. He tried not to look like he was running. "You're nuts, I'm outta here."

    He was just brushing past the other man when he felt a hand snatch out and grab his arm - hard. Painfully hard. Shane grimaced and crumpled a little at the steady grip, his knees going weak under him. Christian's other arm wrapped around his waist and pulled him close roughly, and Shane struggled against him - but it was no use. Christian was a lot stronger then he looked. A lot stronger.

    Moving the arm around Shane's waist to pin his wrists as well, Christian brought his free hand up to hold the back of the heir
apparent's head and bring it in close. He buried his face in Shane's neck and breathed deeply in his scent. "Mmm," he hummed,
"You do smell good, Shane."

    He parted his lips slightly, let his teeth brush the steadily increasing beat of the pulse, and held back a shiver of his own at the life liquid he knew rested underneath. He imagined biting and breaking the skin, piercing the artery and feeling the rush of blood in his mouth. An easy kill was tempting, especially with the way Shane was moving against him, the small sounds of fear that were escaping from his mouth that he was trying desperately to contain. He could make it so Shane wouldn't know what hit him, even make it enjoyable. Christian felt his own pulse quicken at the thought of extinguishing the flare of life in the young man, taking it into his own blood. But no, to kill Shane would surely mean too much unwanted attention. It was risky, and foolish. Christian just hoped he could remember that once he bit into that lovely neck.

    Licking a drop of sweat from Shane's temple, Christian smiled and Shane's eyes widened a little more. "You don't have to be
afraid; it won't hurt. Much."

    Shane did not find that the least bit comforting, and he grimaced as Christian leaned in even closer, his lips brushing the matted hair on his head. "I can make this a night to remember..." the vampire whispered. "Or I can make it so you don't remember a damn thing when you wake up in the morning. You'll just have a bit of a headache, which you probably would of had anyway," he said, looking over at the spilt glass next to the mirror. "So, Shane, what'll it be?"

    "I don't suppose there's an option three where you just walk outta here and leave me alone?" Shane gulped, and tried to shift his arms in Christian's grip. He could feel them starting to fall asleep from lack of movement, and he winced when Christian didn't give an inch and he ended up just straining them more. "Why - why me? Why now?"

    "Why not?" Christian buried his face in Shane's neck once again, nibbling and kissing alternately, enjoying the tastes and smells of the other man. He held Shane a little tighter, and pressed every inch of his body up against him, moving slowly in a grinding sort of dance that produced an involuntary moan of pleasure from the young McMahon.

    The front of Shane's shirt had ridden up and he could feel the smooth friction of Christian's silk shirt against his bare stomach and couldn't help but marvel at how wonderful it felt. He shuddered when he felt the distinctively pointed teeth press up against his jugular, soft lips surrounding the potential bite.

    "Will it hurt?" he gasped.

    Drawing away briefly to answer, Christian took the soft pink earlobe between his lips and sucked gently, "Yeah, but it's a good hurt." With barely audible hiss, Christian's teeth sank into Shane's skin.

    Sharp pain sparked through him, and Shane gasped - reflexively trying to escape the fiery ache that started at his neck and spiked out through his entire body. Planting his hands on Christian's shoulders, he tried to push him away but it was no use, he was helpless and trapped, and he let out a small whimper when he felt the fangs in his neck retract and his blood start to flow from the wound.

    Christian's arms around him tightened, and he growled deep in his throat as he held Shane's head closer and began to drink. The blood flowed fast and furious down his throat, as Shane's protests started to grow noticeably weaker, shaking from the assault. His whole body seemed to be one live nerve as pain and pleasure and fear fought for dominance. He moaned, arched and twisted in Christian's tight hold.

    His pulse was slowing, and his skin starting to grow cold and clammy - Shane's eyes took on only the dimmest kind of
awareness. He felt as he was floating, that if Christian were to let go that he was just fly and fly up towards the ceiling and never
come down. He was distantly aware of the fact that now Christian was supporting all of his weight, and that the dark edges of his vision were starting to close in around him.

    Was this death?

    He passed out just before Christian drew away, licking at the small dribble of blood on Shane's neck that had escaped his mouth. The wound sealed over almost instantly, leaving nothing behind but the smooth expanse of skin. Looking down at the limp body in his hands, Christian carefully moved him over to the bed and lay his victim down amongst the soft sheets. The head rolled onto the pillow, eyelids not even fluttering as Shane continued his deep sleep.

    "You were wonderful..." Christian whispered to the man, he bent down and left one bloody kiss on a smooth cheek, then moved up to kiss the hair, leaving red tinges on the silky strands. He leaned in closer, to talk into Shane's ear, "Remember, Shane. Remember....you belong to me now."