Games to Keep the Light Away

By LoreliLee

Rating: NC: 17
Warning: This story contains violence and graphic consensual and graphic non-consensual sex between a man and a woman. If you are under 18, this offends you, or is illegal where you live please read something else.

This story is a direct sequel to Christmas Comes But Once a Year and Ringing in the New. I strongly suggest you read those first. Otherwise, I'm not sure this one will make much sense! <g>

Disclaimer: The characters of Scotty, Pippi, Maxie, VJ, Paul and Ruth are taken from the Kiwi Comedy Playhouse episode of "Flatmates" and belong to South Pacific Pictures. No copyright infringement is intended. Ares, Greek God of War, as portrayed by Kevin Smith, apparently belongs to Renaissance Pictures and no copyright infringement is intended there either!

Vlad Tepes Dracul also known as Vlad Dracula is a real historical figure. At one time, he was a 15^th century Wallachian ruler of Romania. He was immortalized (or as some Romanians would say, ruined) as Count Dracula by Bram Stoker in his famous book, although there is no historical evidence that he was ever a vampire. <g> What is historically known about him is that he fought the Turks in very bloody and violent conflicts and that he was known to impale the heads of his victims on spikes, hence the name Tepes which means The Impaler.

There is a wealth of "myth" that surrounds Vlad Tepes Dracul and I have taken quite a bit of it and "reworked" it for this story. <g> No disrespect is intended to the real Vlad Dracul or if he still be alive Count Dracula <g>, nor is any disrespect meant to the Romanian people for their pride in the ruler he had been. After all, I happen to be 1/4 Romanian myself! <veg>

It was an explosion. Bright lights, intense heat, flames licking orange and red at her toes. The fire consumed her body; the soft sweet tendrils of flame flowed, licked, flicked, and glided over her, through her, igniting all her nerve endings, inflaming her blood. Her skin was alive with heat, fire, she tingled and shivered, every inch of her more alive than she would have ever thought possible, especially since technically, she was dead. Cyn trembled with arousal, desire, anticipation and pleasure.

Ares lifted his head from her feet where he was sucking her toes and stared at her.

She grinned at him and asked, "Why'd you stop?"

He chuckled. "A mortal'd be dead by now," he admitted.

"But I'm not mortal and I AM dead," she giggled. "Though truthfully, I've never felt more alive in my life."

He chuckled again and moved up the bed. He stroked her face lightly and murmured, "You're quite amazing, you know. Although I suppose it's to be expected."

"Cause I drank you?" she asked curiously. She could still feel his ichor moving through her system, still feel the power working its way into her being.

"Of course that's what I meant," he lied. He wasn't ready to share his secret yet. Not until he'd completely worked out his plan. Revenge was always so much sweeter when it was cold. Vlad would never even see it coming. Not if he handled it right. The thought excited him greatly.

Cyn's eyes flicked down Ares luscious naked body and noticed that something had gotten to him. Somehow, she didn't think it was just her. She eyed him speculatively and asked, "And just what is going through that deep dark devious mind of yours?"

He pulled her into his arms and kissed her brutally. His mouth devoured hers, his hands slid roughly over her flesh, his body pressed her to the soft bed. She arched into him, her own passion as strong, and the lust a brightly burning flame inside her. She rubbed against him, delighting in the coarse hairy feel of his body, the contradiction of hard steel and soft flesh.

"It's time to return you," he murmured as he pulled his mouth from hers.

"Taking me back's got you all randy again?" she panted incredulously. "Doesn't seem right to me."

"Anticipation of the next time," he explained. "And make no mistake about that, Cyn, there will be a next time."

"Well, I should hope so," she agreed.

He chuckled with delight. "Cyn, you might not want to let Vlad know that you've been with me. And especially that you drank from me. I don't think he'll be too thrilled about it."

She'd already assumed that. Still, she knew Vlad could read her mind, didn't Ares know that? She filed that little tidbit of info away.

Ares pulled her tight against him, kissed her hard one last time and then she felt herself pulled into the aether with him.

When she came out of it, she was alone and lying naked in her bed. She wondered where her dress was and then decided it didn't matter. She hadn't been that fond of it anyway and Ares had ripped it to shreds as she recalled.

She sighed and stretched luxuriously. That had been something, that had! She glanced at the digital clock, the one discordant modern note in the whole flat and saw that it was only five a.m. Seemed like she'd been gone longer than only a few hours. No wonder she wasn't sleepy. As she lay there debating what to do, she heard the sound of the door opening, then his voice calling her name.

"I'm in the bedroom, Scotty," she shouted.

"Bewdy," he exclaimed as he barreled in. He paused in the doorway to study her. Cyn was lying on the bed naked. Her hair was loose, wild, and curling around her face. She glowed as if she was vibrating with life. She lounged there, completely at ease in her nakedness as if she was waiting for him to appear. He wondered what she had been doing, WHO she had been doing and then decided it didn't matter. She was clearly happy to see him.

She smiled and gave him the once over. Scotty was still dressed in the same Armani tuxedo he'd worn when they'd left earlier. Whatever else you could say about Vlad, he had GREAT taste in clothes. She knew Scotty much preferred jeans and flannel, but he looked beyond edible in that tux. Now he stood there, looking so gorgeous with his tie undone. His hair was windblown and his eyes as they studied her seemed to blossom with lust. She crooked her finger at him in invitation.

He grinned and then began pulling off his clothes. As soon as he was naked, he joined her on the bed.

He gathered her into his arms and held her for a moment. He pressed his lips to her ear and whispered, "Are you okay?"

She stroked his hair and then pulled his face to hers so she could look into his eyes. She traced his lips and then nodded. "Sorry about earlier."

His lovely brown eyes grew dark with concern. He touched her face tenderly. "Cyn, I . . ." he mumbled.

The emotion in his eyes took her breath away. He loved her! He really and truly loved her. She felt her heart fill with emotion, felt the warmth of his affection flow over her like another kind of soul food. "I know," she whispered back. "I . . ."

He grinned, his dimples appeared and he kissed the tip of her nose. Then he began nuzzling the soft skin of her neck. She ran her hands over his naked back, feeling the strong firm muscles, the hard body beneath the soft skin. Scotty was like a toasted marshmallow, all crisp and crunchy on the outside, but complete and utter sweetness on the inside. He could be wildly passionate and physically demanding, but permeating all of it was an innocence that made her love him. And love him she did, she realized, completely and passionately and with all of her soul. "Scotty," she whispered his name.

His head snapped up at the sound of her voice to stare at her. He gazed into her eyes and felt his whole world turn upside down and inside out. Was that? Did she . . . love him back? "Cyn?" he whispered.

She smiled and ran her fingers over his lips. Then she kissed him softly, gently, lovingly. Their lips met like two matching pieces, the soft silk of their flesh joining in a moment of perfect harmony.

He held her tightly his whole body now pressed to hers, his whole being only wanting to be joined with her completely.

The kiss deepened, their tongues entwined, then their arms and legs. As they kissed, their mouths became the dance their souls were doing. Their lips became the words neither could say, their tongues extensions of their hearts.

Their bodies rubbed together as their hands searched and caressed. Their hunger for each other was immense and more paramount with each passing moment. They rolled together on the bed, Cyn now lay flat on her back, Scotty above her, their mouths still joined.

Cyn pulled her mouth away, panting heavily. She touched his face with wonder and felt his shaft hard against her thigh. She slicked her hand down to caress him. He groaned as she touched him, then moaned as he felt her guide him inside her warmth.

Cyn arched into him, wanting to pull him in as deep as he could go, wanting to feel him fill her so completely that there was no space between them. She gripped him with her arms, pulled him down hard against her and wrapped her legs high on his waist.

She pressed her pelvis to his and clung to him. Her eyes were open and looking into his, as if she could see inside him. She kissed him lightly and stroked his hair, her eyes full of things she couldn't say.

He pulled back, panting and began to thrust into her, his body lost in the feel of hers. He heard her call to him, felt their minds join, their souls join, their hearts begin to speak the same language.

She moaned his name and let herself go, drowning in his emotions. Her body responded to him differently from the way it did to anyone else. She belonged to Scotty with her essence, even if she wanted and needed to be with other men. She knew that for Scotty it was the same. They complimented each other to completion. Like one of those silly little psychological puzzles with the odd shaped pieces. Although Scotty was a square peg and she was a round hole, they still matched. The knowledge changed everything for her. She moaned his name again, this time as the answer to everything she had ever known or wanted.

He could feel her emotions, so complicated and torturous, so overwhelming and his body responded to them. His thrusts increased in speed, his need more urgent. Now he moved erratically, his mouth left hers and moved to her neck. He licked her skin and then she felt his fangs go in.

It was even more incredible now; her senses even more heightened from the ichor that she'd taken from Ares. As Scotty got that first taste of her, he made a noise, like a grunt and then his movements became even faster. He was slamming into her with force and she knew, instinctively that some of the ichor was transferring to him. She found his neck and sank her own fangs in.

The moment she got her first taste of his blood, an orgasm of overwhelming power slammed into both of them. She felt Scotty grind into her deeply and then he shot his seed, her body spasmed wildly around him and he began to shudder hard. His mouth left her neck and he whispered, "I love you."

His words and the force of her orgasm caused her to loosen her hold on him. Her fangs detached from his neck. He collapsed on her, his breathing ragged and uneven. She lay beneath him, trying to catch her own breath. Trying to say the words, but for some reason she couldn't. She clung to him, her heart beating to the sound of his breathing, and then she felt the heaviness in her limbs that boded daylight.

As the sun began to rise, the lovers fell asleep in each other's arms and the God of War, watching from the shadows, laughed evilly. 'Oh yeah,' he thought, 'this is going to be SO good.'

Stathira was in the basement watching a rugby match when Cyn found her the next night. "You had dinner yet?" Cyn asked her.

Stathira shook her head. She always felt a kind of letdown after holidays. A holdover from her days working in a school. Even though every day was now a holiday. "Where's Scotty?" Stathira asked.

Cyn waved her hand airily. "I dunno. I sent him off to bring a little cheer to someone else. I don't want anyone to think I'm monopolizing his talents," she murmured with a giggle. Then added, "Far be it from me to deprive any of you of the pleasure of his company."

"His cock, you mean," Stathira remarked with a giggle of her own. "Cause we've all had a taste and a tasty one it is!"

Cyn agreed, "Too true. So want to go out and see what kind of trouble we can get into?"

Stathira grinned and rose from the couch. "Sure. Whatcha got in mind?"

Cyn's eyes began to gleam wickedly.

"Mr. D," Scotty asked, "can I have a moment?"

Vlad looked up from his desk to see Scotty standing there. The boy was shifting nervously on the balls of his feet and licking his lips. "Yes?"

"Um, about Cyn . . ."

"Sit down, Scotty," Vlad directed his voice now almost gentle. "What about Cyn?"

Scotty sank gratefully into a chair. He licked his lips again and then stuttered, "She . . . something's happened to her."

"What do you mean?" Vlad asked with mild uneasiness. As far as he knew she was fine. He could sense her in the house; she was in the basement chatting with Stathira.

"Last night. She was in a mood and well, she left me and came home. When I got back she was here and we . . . anyways, when I fed on her, it was different. Her blood . . ."

"Her blood what?" the master vampire asked impatiently. "Scotty, please try to make sense."

"It tasted different. And um, well, it feels different. I feel different."

'Ares,' Vlad thought. 'Ares must have gotten to her.' He had not been unaware of the God of War's attempts at seduction. He deeply regretted the humanitarian impulse that had made him summon Ares in the first place. Why had he ever thought the god had changed? "I see," Vlad murmured. He placed his hands together and steepled his fingers. "What did Cyn say when you asked her about it?"

Scotty shook his head. "I didn't. You know what she can be like."

Vlad did indeed. "Well, if you feel all right and she feels all right then I wouldn't worry about it." He paused and then with a feeble attempt at humor added, "Probably just something she drank."

Scotty gave him a weak smile. "You think I'm worrying for nothing?"

Vlad nodded. Scotty rose from the chair. "Okay, then. I'm off." Vlad nodded again and watched the boy leave.

Odds were Cyn had been intimate with Ares and the god had allowed her to take his blood, the ichor that ran through his veins. What was Ares playing at now? He wondered, not for the first time, how he had ever let himself get tangled up with the God of War in the first place.

He'd been born Vlad Dracul, son of Vlad the First, the nominal ruler of Wallachia, part of Romania. As a boy, he had been the crown prince. His mother a Moldavian noblewoman was unique for her time. She was educated and she insisted that her eldest son learn more than just the art of war. Vlad was a mass of contradictions even then. From his father he learned how to fight and from his mother he learned about humanity. His father was a cruel ruler, seeing only what he could gain and how. He ruled with an iron fist and his subjects lived in terror of him. Vlad's mother tried to instill in her eldest son that there was another way.

The dichotomy of teachings was confusing to young Vlad and soon his younger brother, Radu decided Vlad was too soft to wear the crown and that he, Radu should have it instead. Their father viciously encouraged the competition between the brothers, delighting in Radu's attempts to undermine Vlad's authority. One day, Vlad, tired of having to constantly prove himself, tired of trying to please both his father and his mother, a hopeless and impossible task, left home.

He fell in with a group of travelers and ended up in neighboring Transylvania. As he traveled the country incognito, he saw how the peasants lived, how the nobles treated them, how it was to live on the other side of that vast monetary divide. He saw what his mother had explained so patiently to him and what men like his father did to their subjects. He understood finally the dichotomy of ruling by force and maintaining sovereignty. The Turks were the present rulers of Transylvania and they were every bit as cruel as his father was.

Vlad began to grow angry. Subjugation was all well and good, but these peasants were people not just vassals to be used and thrown away. The anger and cruelty he had inherited from his father was now ignited in his soul. He became determined to go back to Romania one day and take back what was rightfully his by birth.

He began gathering followers, a coterie of boyars with power and riches at their disposal. He would first build an army in Transylvania, kick out the Turks, and then go after his homeland. He began to fight the Turks for control. Slowly, but surely he began to amass towns and cities loyal to him. Eventually he set up a capital in Targoviste and began to rule. The Turks threw army after army at him.

As he fought them, his bloodlust grew. Battle after bloody battle became just so much carnage. After a while the battles stopped being real, they simply became an excuse to kill. He quickly learned how to take the heart out of his enemy. His soldiers fought viciously and without mercy and row upon row of staked heads littered the battlefields when he was done for he took no prisoners. His reputation for ferocity, violence, for killing grew. Vlad the Second became Vlad Tepes, and the fear of Vlad the Impaler spread throughout the region.

Yet for all the terror he inspired, there was more to Vlad as a ruler than just death and destruction. He had rules, ethics and morals of a sort. He despised crime and dishonesty and set about eradicating it from his domain. He would impale liars and thieves just as quickly as he would killers. The peasants who lived in Targoviste were fond of telling stories about him. Their favorite was about the Golden Cup, which Vlad had displayed, in the central square of the city. All were welcome to use the cup to drink from the well, but to take the cup would mean death by impalement. In all the years he ruled, the cup was never stolen.

Then there was the tale of the merchant who left his full cart overnight unattended in the city. Someone stole one hundred sixty ducats from it. The next day, when he had been informed of the theft, Vlad had all the petty thieves in Targoviste rounded up and questioned. None admitted to the theft, but he had them all impaled as an example and a warning. Then he had the money replaced, along with one extra ducat. The merchant, to his unknowing good luck, confessed the money was returned AND that there was one extra. Vlad had been pleased with his honesty and had forgone impaling him. The story had spread and as the tales grew, so too did his fame.

One St. Bart's day, when he'd learned that his father and brother had made an arrangement with the Turks to fight against him should he attempt to reclaim his birthright, he'd been so full of bloodlust he had impaled thousands of his "enemies." His years of exile had made him lose what humanity he'd started with, now he was quickly becoming a killing machine. His hunger for death was almost overpowering. As he was about to begin his ritual stroll through the carnage, a stranger appeared.

The man was dressed very oddly; all in black leather and a silver sword earring dangled from his left ear. He carried a large sword in a plain scabbard on his hip, the hilt was undecorated and yet Vlad could feel an almost mystical energy rising from it. That sword knew blood. The man was ruggedly handsome and unlike most everyone else in the land, his hair was long, shiny and clean.

The man reeked of power. Vlad could smell it and taste it. Over the years, he had learned a great deal about power. Power that came from fear, power that came from riches, and power that came from an otherworldly source. Transylvania was a country ripe with magic and superstition. Many gypsy tribes wandered the land telling stories of mystical creatures. There were those that said the gypsies were mystical themselves. Like everyone, he'd heard whispers of vampires that wielded great power. They were strong, immortal, could not be killed and lived only in the night. While he neither believed nor disbelieved the stories, he understood the power they carried. He wondered what kind of power this man had and why he was there.

The man stayed at Vlad's side and then without a word strolled with him as Vlad walked through row upon row of the dead and the dying. Unlike the nobles and boyars Vlad knew, this man did not seem bothered by the screams of pain or offended by the stench of death. He, like Vlad, seemed to revel in it. They walked together through the city streets in silence for a very long time before Vlad finally asked, "Who are you?"

The man chuckled. "Ares, Greek God of War."

"What are you doing here?"

"You interest me," the god replied. "I've been watching you. You have great potential. I think we can help each other."

Vlad stopped walking to stare at him. "Help each other? How?"

Again, Ares chuckled. "You want Romania back. I can help you achieve this."

The offer surprised Vlad, but not so much that he didn't ask, "And what would you get in return?"

Ares stared at him and suggested, "You will worship me."

"Worship you?" Vlad echoed. "No. I don't think so. I bow to no one."

Again, that laugh filled the air. "Do you want your kingdom? I can give that to you. Seems like a very small price to pay."

Vlad shook his head. He forcefully demurred, "No. I will not trade one form of bondage for another."

Ares waved a hand negligently in the air. "As you wish," and then he vanished. Vlad thought he'd seen the last of him, but he was wrong.

That night she came to him. She looked like an angel with long silken blonde hair and innocent wide blue eyes. She was beautiful of course. They were all beautiful, the women who came to him. Though he had a wife, he didn't use her the way he used the others. A wife was to be cherished and coddled, to be the vessel for his immortality, although they had yet to conceive. The others were for him to take for his pleasure.

She said her name was Angelica and that she was there to please him. With a cruel laugh, he asked her if she knew what that meant and she said she did. So Vlad unleashed the sensuality and violence in his soul, prepared to possess her in a punishingly brutal way. As he was taking her, he felt a bite on his neck. He didn't understand at first. He simply thought she was trying to respond to him with the same violence he was exhibiting.

Then he saw her eyes and her fangs in his neck. He tried to push her off, tried to get away from her, but despite her seemingly frail small body, she was very strong. As he felt the blood and life draining from him, she offered him a choice. Death or the vampire. He choose the vampire. He accepted the violence, the rage and bloodlust as if he'd been born for it. He accepted the power and so Dracula was born. Now his rage had a new outlet, the lust for death, a new center.

She marked him and made him. Over the next three nights she instructed him in the ways of the vampire, in the ways of the night and when he had learned everything he could from her, he thanked her by killing her.

A month later as he began his assault on Romania, Ares again appeared.

"So how do you like the night life?" the god asked.

Vlad had looked at him and known. "You did this."

"Me?" the god echoed innocently. "I'm not a vampire."

"No. But you sent her to me, didn't you?"

Ares lounged there nonchalantly, his arms folded over his chest. "Why would I do that?"

Vlad shook his head. "I don't know. But you did."

Ares laughed evilly. "And if I did? What could I hope to gain?"

Vlad strode to him, grabbed his neck and attempted to choke him.

Ares laughed and with minimal effort, sent the vampire reeling across the field. "You are not as immortal as you might think. Don't try that again."

Vlad rose from the ground and asked, "Can you undo it?"

Ares cocked his head to one said and studied him. Finally he mused, "You don't like being a vampire? Think of all the advantages you have. While it is true you can no longer appear in the daylight, you have power now. Power unlike that which your enemies have. You can have an army of the dead."

"Why?"

"I want worshippers," Ares explained. "You're perfect for the job. So do it."

Vlad met his gaze and asked, "And if I don't?"

Ares shrugged and retorted, "You are doomed to live eternally as a vampire anyway. It would be much easier for you if we were allies than enemies."

Vlad thought this over for a long moment and then asked, "And if I do agree?"

Ares smiled and replied, "You will still live eternally, but I can make it worth your while. You shall have Romania and Transylvania. You will be king."

Now Vlad shrugged. Then he declared, "I will NOT bow to you."

Ares laughed. "No need. But your men will as will your army. You will build temples to me too." He paused and added, "Angelica is quite something, isn't she?"

Vlad nodded as he felt the power he had taken from Angelica surge through him. "I killed her."

Ares nodded. "I know. A shame, yet . . . Try not to kill them all. I need some living worshippers."

Still the cruelty and evil that Ares unleashed was not controllable. It took one century before Vlad grew tired, consolidated his power and learned to despise the bloodshed. Two centuries before he realized that Ares quest to be remembered was fruitless and that the Greek God would be forgotten in the hardness of medieval life.

Eventually he had come to realize that Ares had helped him. He would never have been able to conquer Romania without the added power of the vampire. They had become friendly enemies, neither trusting nor completely distrusting the other. And over the centuries, they had even done the occasional favor for the other. Still, Ares never seemed to change. He was always manipulative and evil, even now, when he was barely remembered.

Vlad sighed. The past was the past, it was the future he now needed to be concerned about. What was he going to do about Ares?

Two nights later, Scotty didn't understand what was happening to him. Since being with Cyn, drinking her odd tasting blood, there was a newfound anger that was being born in him and it disturbed him greatly. He didn't quite know what do with himself.

As he wandered the streets of Auckland, the burgeoning rage that he didn't even know he felt was seething inside him. He could feel a new kind of animal ferocity course through his veins, a part of the vampire nature that he hadn't acknowledged before.

He didn't really understand it. He'd always been a placid amiable bloke. No matter what anyone ever said to him, he never got mad. Sure, some people, like his old boss, used to treat him like he was worthless, but so what? Sure his friends used to tease him, taunt him sometimes about his not being very bright, but that was before. He never got mad at them, cause what was the point? He knew he wasn't that smart, not like Stathira with all the books she read or Mr. D. with his centuries of knowledge. Still, he wasn't dumb.

He began to remember the way his old friends used to treat him, as if he was only good for cash and transportation. Years of being treated as less than what he was suddenly formed a ball of anger in his stomach.

He found he had wandered near the coffee shop where he used to hang out with his former flatmates. He saw Pippi and Maxie leaving the café. He flattened himself against the side of a building so they wouldn't see him and stretched out with his senses. Now he could overhear their conversation.

"Funny how you don't think of someone until you're actually asked about them," Pippi was musing.

"Yeah," Maxie said. "Wonder what ever did happen to poor old Scotty. Think he just forgot who he was and wandered off?"

Pippi laughed. "I dunno. Someone said they thought they saw him at the Christmas Concert in the park. But when they hailed him, the guy went the other way."

"Probably wasn't Scotty, although he never did have the greatest sense of direction," Pippi replied affectionately. "Sometimes he could be so dumb. Remember that time . . ."

As Pippi and Maxie moved beyond where even his vampire senses could eavesdrop, he lost the thread of their conversation. But it didn't matter. Anger flared inside him at that word, "dumb." He was not dumb. So even his "old" friends didn't think highly of him. His burgeoning anger was so intense; he totally missed the love and affection in his old friends voice's as they spoke of him.

The more he thought about the way his so-called friends had obviously laughed about him behind his back, the angrier he got. The angrier he got, the less attention he paid to his surroundings.

Suddenly another large body slammed into his. "You big dumb oaf," a voice sputtered at him. "Why don't you watch where you're going?'

Scotty felt the rage blossom within him at the words. He was not dumb! He looked at the large man in front of him. He was ugly and fat with mean eyes.

"Who you calling dumb?" Scotty growled.

"You, you big ox," the fat man spat. "You made me drop my beer."

"Your beer?" Scotty echoed. His eyes scanned the area and he saw a large case of Steinlager on the ground. He turned back to stare at the fat man.

"Well, pick it up," the man demanded.

"Pick it up?" Scotty repeated slowly. "Sure, I'll get that for you." Scotty bent down and grabbed the case in one hand. Then he slammed it into the man's fat beer belly. As the man went down to the ground, Scotty rejoiced in his yelp of pain.

"What'd you do that for?" the man sputtered. "Who the bloody hell do you think you are?"

"Your worst fucking nightmare," Scotty retorted as he bared his fangs. He grabbed the man off the ground as if he were weightless and dragged him into a nearby alley.

"Hey now, mate, I didn't mean nothing," the man apologized in a nervous voice. "I'm sorry."

"That and two cents will get you nothing," Scotty growled. He slammed the man against the wall. "You shouldn't run around calling people stupid."

"I'm sorry," the man apologized again. "Please don't hurt me," the man begged. His face was full of panic.

Scotty loved the look of fear. He felt the anger burn through his veins, the rage fed the hunger within him and a new kind of bloodlust.

Scotty grinned at the man, but the grin never reached his eyes. The man began to shiver in abject terror.

"Whatcha gonna do, mate? Kill me? Please don't kill me."

"Nah," Scotty demurred with a soft laugh. "I'm not going to kill you." He again bared his fangs. "But you'll make a lovely dinner."

"Dinner?" the man gulped.

Scotty stared into the eyes of his victim and hypnotized him into compliance. The man sagged against the wall as Scotty sank his fangs into his neck.

He didn't usually feed on men. He didn't enjoy it nearly as much as feeding on women. He only did it when there was no other choice. But this night, it felt fantastic, this night, it fed his rage.

He drank deep of the man and when he was done, growled savagely. His hunger was assuaged, but his rage was untouched. The man looked beaten and afraid. Something about his fear made Scotty even angrier. He hauled back and landed a savage punch on the man's jaw. Then another and another. He probably would have pounded the man into dust if a noise hadn't startled him. He jerked his head around to find a pair of eyes watching him. Big green eyes with whiskers. The cat hissed and suddenly Scotty came back to himself.

He looked at the man who was bleeding and beaten and realized what he had done. He raised the man off the ground and hypnotized him into believing he'd had a fight. Then he ran from the alley.

He ran home in a state. He wanted to see Cyn, to talk to her about what was happening to him, sure that she would know. When he got to her flat, she wasn't there. He tried to stretch out with his senses to find her, but he wasn't very good at that and he couldn't. He turned and went to Lucy's flat, but she wasn't there either. Next he tried Stathira's flat, but she seemed to be out too. For all that he was physically intimate with the other vampires, he didn't feel comfortable talking to them, so he went to his own flat.

He paced the lounge for five minutes, but it felt too confining. He was filled with a restless energy he didn't understand and emotions he couldn't deal with. Finally, he changed into shorts and went down to the basement. Maybe working out would help. When he was human, it had often been a solace when his feelings were unpleasant. He still enjoyed working out too, working up a good sweat, although theoretically he knew he didn't need to. He couldn't quite believe that he would never grow old, or fat or less muscled no matter what he did. He sat down on the universal gym and began to use the high bar.

Stathira headed down to the basement. There was a rugby match she wanted to catch. She had trolled in a health club that evening and was still dressed in shorts and a gray workout bra. She had just wandered down when she caught sight of Scotty using the universal gym. She studied him. She thought his chest was glorious, perfectly formed, lightly covered with hair and with each movement of the high bar the chest and arms flexed and pumped. The way it looked was incredibly erotic. She walked over toward the machine to watch him more closely.

Scotty saw Stathira and let the bar go. He looked at her, grinned and then grabbed her head and pulled her mouth to his. He kissed her hard, almost brutally, as if he maybe he could spend some of his anger in passion. He lost himself in the feel of her lips on his, in the less complicated emotion of desire.

Stathira returned his passionate kiss, wondering how lips as soft as Scotty's could turn so hard. He was exhibiting an enormous amount of passion, he seemed to want to take possession of her through her mouth and it made her melt.

He held her head tightly and with his free hand, he pulled her against him. The pressure of his lips was intense and she was fighting to stay afloat, to stay conscious from the intensity of it.

He continued to kiss her, his mouth was hungry, searching, trying to generate the same passion in her he was obviously feeling. She gave as good as she got and her response seemed to please him for his mouth opened. She parted her lips eagerly and allowed his tongue to plunge wetly inside. His hands were moving, roaming over her body as if they owned it. He slithered one up her side, towards her bra, thumbed the nipple from outside the fabric, and then he slid the hand inside.

She arched against him then her arms encircled him. Her fingers played with the damp hairs at the nape of his neck. He pulled her even more tightly against him. She felt her breasts smash against his lean hard damp chest. Felt the soft hair at the base of his throat tickle her deliciously.

One of his hands had worked its way into the bra and was massaging the breast and nipple. She could feel herself juicing up inside, getting wet.

Suddenly he pulled his mouth from hers and moaned, "Now. Here."

She nodded and he pulled her down into his lap. Immediately he began kissing and tonguing her neck, his mouth and beard trailing hot fire everywhere it touched. Now he tongued her cleavage and his hands were moving again. He seemed frantic with desire, seemed to want her with a passion she found startling and wonderful. His hands were at her waist, trailing down her belly, teasing the lips of her sex. He positioned her on his lap so that she sat her wetness on his hardness.

His hands moved back up her body toward the bra. They came around the back, obviously looking for a hook. "It’s a pull-on," she explained softly.

He raised his head and looked at her, his eyes on fire with desire. She raised her arms and pulled the bra over her head. His mouth was at her nipples immediately. Strong firm hands grasped her breasts and pushed them together. He buried his face in them and ran his tongue back and forth between the nipples, while his hands gently kneaded the bowls.

She felt herself growing wetter, felt the need to feel him inside grow in intensity. She reached down between them to trace his hard shaft with her fingers.

He moaned and began to suck first one nipple, then the other. Now she moaned and began to rub herself against him. Suddenly he released her breasts and grinned.

He lifted her up by the hips. His hands slid down her body and slid the shorts and panties down. He was so strong he could hold her with one hand while he pulled his hard shaft out of his shorts.

He stroked himself straight up and then he felt for her opening, "Now," she whispered.

He positioned the lips of her sex over his hard shaft and then slowly lowered her. She slid down while he pushed up and felt an incredible rush as he went all the way inside. He was so big it felt as if she was being filled for the very first time.

He put his hands on her hips to hold her steady and bent his mouth to once again nuzzle her breasts. Instead of wrapping her arms around him, she gripped the side bars of the gym. Now she could get a better angle and move more easily on him.

He began to thrust upward while lightly tonguing her nipples. The dual sensations were incredible. Each thrust was like a new movement in an old dance. She ground downwards, trying to rub her clit into his pelvis. Then he stopped.

"What’s wrong?" she asked.

He lifted his face from her breasts and confessed, "I want to watch us."

The words sent a shiver through her and her eyes got greedy with desire. The mirrors around the gym portion didn’t display them very well in this position. Nodding her assent, she loosed her arms from the gym and wrapped them around his neck. He gripped her under her buttocks and slowly and carefully rose from the bench. Walking slowly, so as not to slip out, he carried her to the bench press board. He lay her down. There was a mirror behind her and on both sides of her. Now he could see them.

The bench press board was tilted so her head was high and the rest of her fell downward. Her legs dangled over the side spread wide.

He grinned at her and began to stroke her slowly, his eyes moving from her face to the mirror and back again. His frantic passion seemed almost under control now, while hers was growing by the minute.

His fingers were playing with her nipples, thumbing and rubbing the sensitive peaks until she thought she would scream from the pleasure and the pain. She was moaning beneath him, her body one giant ache, and her hands, unable to reach him, simply falling off the board. "Faster," she whispered. "Harder and faster."

Her words seemed to incite him for now he stoked her roughly; his hands moved from her breasts down to find her clit. She arched as he rubbed the sensitive bud. She could feel her body move closer to release. His thumb applied a constant pressure as he increased the speed of his stroke. She found her hands of their own volition, unable to reach him, had strayed to her breasts, and were rubbing her nipples.

He saw this and began to rub her clit harder. She felt the white-hot heat of orgasm start to tear through her. She shot hot liquid all over his organ.

That made him lose all semblance of control. He began to grind her into the bench press, losing himself as he plunged into her, forgetting even the mirror was there. He lay flat on her now, his body a powerful, frenzied weight. His mouth was again at her nipples, his teeth nipping them. His strong body slammed her harder into the bench with each thrust, almost smashing her beneath him in his need to come. She grabbed his head and pulled his mouth to hers.

She kissed him hard as she felt him begin to explode within her. He bit her lip, moaned and came, shooting his seed deep inside her. She continued to kiss his face as his body shuddered, spasmed, and lay on top of her.

He lifted his head and licked the blood off her lips. This seemed to incite him all over again. He withdrew, picked her up and wordlessly carried her up the stairs and into his flat, slamming the door shut behind them.

Cyn hadn't seen Scotty for three days. Not since he'd confessed that he loved her. She didn't know what to make of it. It was true, that when they woke up after that momentous moment, she'd sent him off to play with someone else, but still . . . It didn't mean she didn't love him too. Now she seemed to be alone in the big block of flats. She'd gone out to feed and the weather had been less than cooperative. Rainy and cold she had quickly found a man, eaten and then come back home.

She wandered the building all at loose ends, restless and bored. As much as she loved being a vampire, loved Scotty, she felt like she needed something more in her life.

She strolled into the kitchen and studied the gleaming appliances. The place looked like a demo for an advert. She opened the fridge and found a bottle of champagne.

"You shouldn't drink alone," Ares remarked.

For once, she hadn't heard him. She turned at the sound of his voice. "Evening," she muttered grumpily.

He looked her up and down. Cyn was dressed in red leather, tight pants that fitted her like a second skin and a jacket that was barely zipped up the front. He could see her abundant breasts and her pale skin. Her red hair shone in the lights, although he wondered idly why they were on. "You look quite tasty," he observed.

She grinned and licked her lips. So did he. Ares wore his usual black leather. Still there was something about the way he wore it, as if the clothes were an extension of his overabundant sexuality. He was like one of those giant size fantasy dolls, except he was real. She smothered a smile when she realized that she thought of him as a sex toy. Somehow, she didn't think he'd like that description of himself. "Want some?" she asked.

Ares strode to her, his body moving like a big cat, sensuous and predatory. He took the bottle out of her hand and placed it on the counter. "You, yes. Champagne, no."

He pulled her against him and kissed her. She responded eagerly, her arms went around him. Her mouth opened and her tongue slipped out to part his lips. His kiss was almost gentle, tentative, as if he wanted to test her need.

She kissed him harder, pushing her tongue against his still closed lips, parting them and sliding her tongue inside.

He gripped her tighter and began to run his fingers over the soft red leather that covered her body. She moaned as his hands traced the curve of her waist and the bowls of her breasts. She pressed against him, the black leather hard and thick against her skin.

She pulled her mouth free and whispered, "Too many clothes."

Ares chuckled and made it all vanish. Now they were naked. She sighed happily and ran her fingers down his chest, tangling her fingers in the hair, brushing his nipples with her long nails.

Their bodies began to rub together; she gripped his ass and pressed her soft fur covered mound against his erection. He pulled back and picked her up. He set her on the edge of the kitchen counter.

Her eyes were glittering as she spread her legs. She used her fingers to open herself for him and then to guide him inside. He slid all the way in and then paused. He held himself inside her his arms went around her waist and then he bent his head to nuzzle at her breasts.

She moaned and pulled his head closer. Her legs slid up and encircled his lower back, gripping him.

He held her steady and suckled at her breasts, feeling her body juice up around him. She was moaning and pressing against him. He gripped her hips and slowly thrust into her almost teasing her with his pace.

Her hands gripped the edge of the counter as she ground herself back into him.

He lifted his head from her chest and stared at her. Her head was thrown back and her eyes shut. Her mouth was open and her tongue was lying against her ripe lips.

He saw her arousal and was pleased. He thrust harder and faster now grinding into her. Now her arms encircled him and he felt her fingernails begin to claw his back as she whispered, "Harder."

Now he gripped her even tighter and pounded into her. She arched against him, her mouth inches from his jugular. "Don't," he hissed. Her head jerked back but she obeyed.

He reached down between them to thumb her clit. Her eyes were watching him, the lust and desire all over her face.

She moaned loudly as he began to rub that hardened bud and then she came her body shaking, trembling and spasming around his probing shaft. He ground hard one last time and climaxed as he felt another presence in the room.

Vlad backed out of the kitchen doorway. He'd heard the noises, but hadn't really given them much thought. The last thing he expected to see were Cyn and Ares having sex. He swore to himself in Romanian as he went to the library. He knew he couldn't forbid Cyn to see the god, she'd never stand for it and neither would Ares. Still there had to be some way to warn her.

He'd finished the diary, translated it for her, but he still didn't know much more than he'd learned from Tamara before she'd died. Tamara had no idea who the father was and there was nothing about Yelena to give her a clue. The girl had no powers but that didn't preclude her from being Ares' child or his.

He sighed with frustration. He was going to have to talk to Cyn. Getting involved with Ares was dangerous, in more ways than she knew. The house was already filled with a continual restless sexual energy. As his mind of it's own accord replayed the erotic scene he had just witnessed he felt his own blood begin to boil. Damn!

Ares gripped Cyn's rocking body tightly. So Vlad had seen them. Excellent. Now on to the next step. His eyes glowed with lust as he pulled Cyn against him.

The next thing she knew she was in the aether with him again. When they came out of it, they were in a strange room.

"Where are we?" she asked as Ares released her.

"My playroom," he murmured softly.

His playroom? To Cyn's eyes, it looked like a torture chamber. There were all sorts of odd-looking devices; a large hook on a chain hung from the ceiling, she recognized a rack, manacles hanging off the wall, an iron maiden, and a wheel. She swiveled her head to stare at Ares. He was looking even more beautiful and demonic than ever. She smiled and asked, "What game are we going to play?"

Her words seemed to light a bigger fire in the god. He grabbed her around the waist and whispered, "Have you a preference?"

"I trust you," she answered softly. "I'm already dead anyway."

He laughed evilly. He pulled Cyn close and titled her head. "How hungry are you?"

"I fed earlier. I won't need to eat for at least twenty-four hours."

"Good," he murmured with a wicked grin.

Cyn felt her body floating, and then her wrists were manacled to the hook, which hung from the ceiling. She was completely at his mercy.

Ares looked at the vampire. Her hair was loose and framed her face; her eyes were wide, but not frightened. She was curious and full of anticipation. As her eyes moved over his naked form, he could see the lust in them.

Her breasts bounced as her body swayed from the hook, the nipples hard. Her legs were moving as well, opening and closing, and her lovely fur covered mound just angled there in invitation.

He moved to her and pulled her sex toward his mouth. He looked up at her and grinned. She grinned back.

He bent his head and rubbed his goatee along the inside of her thighs. Goosebumps popped out on her skin. He rubbed his lips along her inner thighs inhaling her scent and delighting in her soft skin. She wasn't nearly as cold as most vampires, probably because of her heritage and to some extent his ichor. He was glad that he'd used Hephaestus manacles. She could probably break free of any others. He wondered if she knew how strong she was.

He teased along her thighs, teased her opening with his breath, and then flicked his tongue out to tease those lips. They opened like a flower for him. Still, he ignored them and went back to kissing her thighs.

He could see her arousal now, the lips were opening of their own accord and drops of fluid were beading. He could see her clit, like a pink petal in the center, begin to throb.

He rubbed his mouth along her sex, the friction of the soft coarse hair of his goatee continuing to tease her, arouse her. But she was strangely quiet. No words, no moans, just the sound of heavy breathing. He glanced up. Her eyes were closed and she was biting her lip as if to keep from crying out.

He continued to tease, now running his tongue around the lips of her sex, his fingers on her thighs, rubbing the soft skin at the juncture of her legs and sex. She opened wider and the liquid began to flow. Still no moans.

He flicked the tip of her clit with his tongue then blew on it. Her pelvis arched and he heard a groan. He did it again then he went back to teasing.

She pulled her legs up, wrapped them around his neck and tried to pull his face to her mound. He chuckled, his breath hot against her sex. Now he simply breathed on her.

Finally she moaned and asked, "Please?"

He chuckled again and murmured, "All you had to do was ask."

Then he began to eat her with a vengeance. He ran his tongue around her sex and then rolled it into a point. He pulled her sex tight to his face and began to pump her with his tongue, using it as if it was a miniature cock. He moved it in and out, scouring every inch of her, exploring that warm cavity until he knew all of it by heart.

She was writhing now, twisting and turning, her breasts rolling and shimmying on her chest. Her moans were loud and erotic. He unrolled his tongue and began to lap at the juices flowing from her. Again he flicked the tip of his tongue against her clit and she thrust herself against his face.

He abandoned that little pink bud and licked her up and down, moving his tongue and lips all over her, tasting all of her. She was moaning his name and her body was begging for release, but still he teased.

"Please," she finally said. "Please."

He chuckled again and began to lick that pretty pink petal. She groaned and pushed herself against his face. He licked her bud slowly and lightly knowing that the teasing was driving her to the edge again and again. Finally he took that hardened piece of flesh into his mouth and sucked it. Spasm after spasm overtook her body, she was humping her sex up and down, liquid was pouring out of her and her screams were howls of exquisite pleasure. The moment her spasms stopped, he did it again, sucking hard this time and nipping her with his teeth.

She growled and her fangs appeared. Her entire body trembled and she came again, soaking his face. She was panting heavily, her body covered with a sheen of sweat.

Ares took a step back, released her and looked up. She didn't look as if she was finished. "More?" he asked.

She grinned and nodded. Cyn watched as Ares stood there staring at her. His eyes were filled with lust and was that, a little awe? His shaft stood straight out, red and throbbing.

She stared at him and licked her lips. Her eyes moved over his body, his beautiful hairy chest, and the nipples that were just as hard as hers were. The lovely dark hair that moved down his belly and his big thick organ. She wanted it inside her again, but she'd be damned before she asked. Then it occurred to her, having been brought up Catholic, that she was already damned, first for having sex outside the marriage bed and second because she was a vampire. The thought made her giggle.

"What's so funny?" Ares asked angrily.

"Nothing, just a stray thought. Are you going to stand there staring at me all day?" she asked flirtatiously.

"No I am not," he retorted. He moved closer, pulled her body lower via the chain and bent his head to her breasts. He took a nipple in his mouth and began to suck it. She moaned loudly and pushed her pelvis toward him. She kicked her legs up and wrapped them around him, trying to pull him inside her. Ares released her nipple and laughed. "Clever girl," he commented approvingly as he felt her legs move up his body to his waist. "Very clever."

Cyn was strong but Ares was stronger. He pushed her legs off him.

Ares laughed and went back to kissing and sucking her breasts.

Cyn was being overwhelmed with sensations. The fire he lit in her veins was blazing. She could feel each lick, each suck on her breasts as if it was on her clit. Only, now instead of letting her build to release, each time she got close, Ares would stop. He was keeping her just on the edge of orgasm without ever letting her achieve it. This was torture indeed.

One of his hands moved down her belly. His fingers traced her nether lips, then one slipped inside, lightly touching her clit. He began to tease her further, now his fingers were inside, now they just traced the outer lips. She couldn't stop moaning and finally she had to give in. "I can't take much more of this."

The god laughed. "We'll see," was his answer. Suddenly he grabbed her about the waist and the manacles released her. She fell into his arms and then he was laying her down on a table on her stomach. He pulled her arms up above her head and strapped them into cuffs. He spread her legs and did the same to her ankles. Then he began to rub her ass. He rubbed it lightly and gently, then he began to use feathers running them up and down, playing with the crack of her ass. She was moaning and writhing on the table, trying to rub her clit on the wood. But she couldn't get enough friction going to get release. She could hear his soft laugh and knew that he had planned it that way. Then he began to lightly spank her. His hands patted her ass softly, then a little harder, then a little harder still. Somehow, this was arousing her even more than the feathers had done. She was moaning and humping the table, but still, the god kept her from release.

"Ares, please," she murmured. "I think you're going to kill me this way."

"I can't kill you," he muttered in a voice husky with passion. "You're already dead."

"Bastard," she whispered.

"No, my parents were married." Still, he must have been satisfied with her response for the table appeared to release her. She pulled her hands and legs free and sat up.

"What's next?" she asked curiously. Despite the teasing, despite the need to feel him inside her again, she was enjoying herself. She could feel how excited Ares was and knew that when they finally did do it again, it was going to be spectacular.

Ares studied her, "You're quite amazing, even for a vampire, Cyn. Most mortal women could never have handled half of what I've done to you. Some others I've brought here, even immortals, well they've never made it quite this far. I'm not quite sure. Perhaps I'll let you choose the game."

She jumped off the table and landed on very unsteady legs. She gripped the edge of the table, noting the height, sat back on it, and opened her legs wide.

Ares eyes overflowed with lust. He moved to her, gripped her waist with one hand and his hard shaft with the other. Then he thrust himself forward and all the way up inside her in a brutal stroke. She moaned his name, wrapped her legs around his waist and moaned, "Oh yeah, give it to me."

Ares gripped her hips and began to move. She put her arms around his neck and whispered, "May I?"

"Not yet," he decreed.

She would wait. The God of War began to thrust into her with force. His hard organ, like a sword lanced her with its power. She could feel the emotions surging through him, feel his rage, his excitement, and his hunger. With each thrust inside her she became more attuned to every part of him. She could feel his blood pumping, feel the way the muscles in his fingers gripped her ass, feel how he equated sex to death. No wonder he liked vampires, he was in love with death! Then he paused in his stroking, his hard organ became still inside her, one of his hands moved from her hip and began to stroke her clit, within two seconds she began to come and then he continued. Pumping her hard, faster and more powerfully than humanly possible. His fingers continued to stroke her clit over and over again, as he hammered in to her. She began to see stars from the power of the pleasure and then he whispered hoarsely, "Now."

Cyn bared her fangs and licked his jugular. Then she sank her teeth into his vein. She saw again his life with crystalline clarity. And not only that, but also felt as if it were her own, the beat of his heart, the ichor in his veins, the throbbing of his cock. She was him now – she knew how it felt to be a man inside a woman, how it felt to feel a woman come around you, how pleasing it was to drive a woman into a frenzy. She felt the tightening in his balls before he was about to come and then felt what it was to be a man and come inside a woman. It was the most amazing thing she had ever experienced. As the God of War spent his hot seed inside her, she had the most incredible orgasm she had ever had in her life, dead or alive. Reluctantly she pulled her fangs out as she again felt the power of his ichor move through her veins.

After a long moment Cyn finally muttered, "That was fun."

Ares shook his head. He stroked the side of her cheek lightly, almost tenderly. "Happy?" he asked.

She grinned. "After that? Knackered be a better word. I'm limp."

He continued to caress her face, his fingers tracing the planes and curves. "What would make you happy?" he asked.

"What makes you think I'm NOT happy?" she asked curiously.

"Cyn," he explained almost petulantly, "I've been in your mind. I know."

"I am happy," she insisted. "I have everything I could ever want."

"If you say so," he conceded. He'd planted the seed, now he just needed to help it grow a little. "Still, you know, if you ever feel like a change . . . "

"A change?" she echoed. "Whatcha mean?"

"Oh, you know," he remarked with an airy wave of his hand, "if you get bored with the coven. I have a lot I can offer."

She studied his naked body. "That you do," she teased with a lustful grin. "That you do." She yawned. "You'd better take me back. It's almost sunrise."

"You could stay here," he offered. "I can make sure there's no sun."

She shook her head. "Nah. I like my bed. Besides, Vlad will worry."

"Ah, yes, Vlad. Wouldn't want him getting upset, now would we? He's been known to . . . " he let the words trail off.

"Known to what?" she asked, taking the bait. Despite everything, she still didn't feel as if she knew Vlad very well. Although he'd made her and she had glimpses into his mind, the master vampire still held himself aloof from her. She hadn't quite figured out how to get past that high wall he'd built, though she wanted to very much.

He shook his head. "You're knackered as you put it. I'll return you."

"Don't do that," she muttered. "Tell me."

Ares smothered his smile and remarked seriously, "In the past, Vlad has not looked too kindly upon vampires I've, um, shall we say, grown fond of. About two hundred years ago, well, it's not a pretty story."

"Are you saying Vlad would hurt me for being with you?"

"Perhaps not in your case," he mused thoughtfully, pretending to consider it. He watched her out of the corner of his eyes. "He does seem to think you're rather special."

"Hmm," Cyn mumbled. She could sense that Ares was after something, she just couldn't tell what. She felt her limbs start to get heavy. "I need to go back."

Ares nodded and pulled her into the aether. They arrived in her bedroom to find Scotty pacing. "Who the bloody hell are you?" he shouted when he saw that Cyn was naked and NOT alone.

Ares laughed and vanished, leaving Cyn to explain.

"Where have you been? Who WAS that?" he asked angrily. He was trembling with emotion. The feelings coursing through him felt foreign and wrong, but somehow he couldn't stop them.

Cyn sensed that something was wrong and that she needed to handle this and NOW, but she was so tired. She tried to put her arms around him, but he pulled away.

"Scotty, please," she murmured. "I'll explain. I'm just so . . . I need to get into bed."

He gripped her arms tightly, his fingers pressing hard into her flesh. "Tell me."

She had never seen him like this, never seen him even close to anger before. "It was Ares. You know, the Greek God of War. Please, Scotty, let me go. You're hurting me."

"God . . ." he released her as her words filtered into his consciousness. "You were with him," he accused.

"Scotty, please, can we talk about this tomorrow? I'm shagged out and I need some sleep." She put her arms around him again and almost begged, "I always sleep better when I sleep with you."

He pulled away from her, his eyes wild. Then he looked at her face and whatever he had felt, whatever he had planned to do was gone. He pulled her close and buried his face in her hair. "I'm sorry, Cyn. I don't know what got into me."

She held his trembling body and wondered about that too. She had a sneaking suspicion she knew. "Come to bed," she whispered.

Ares swore softly. He'd almost had him there. Still, the boy DID have aggression in him. Did have anger and jealousy just waiting to be brought forth. Excellent. Things were moving along VERY nicely.

Scotty awoke from terrible nightmares. As his body came out of the deep sleep, his mind was still haunted by the images from the dreams. Images of blood, images of feeding until he killed, images of the wild animal nature that was part of what he was now. A vampire, a creature of the dark night.

Scotty shook his head, trying to remove the pictures from his mind. When Lucy had offered him the opportunity to change his life, to exchange his small world for a larger one, he'd jumped at the chance. She'd made it sound as if being a vampire was just one long never-ending party. So it had been, until now.

He knew that long ago vampires had killed, had been violent. He'd seen several movies featuring vampires like "Love at First Bite," "Buffy, the Vampire Slayer," and "Dracula, Dead and Loving it" and in them, it had all seemed like harmless fun. He'd never killed, never even felt the desire to hurt.

Now, anger, rage and bloodlust were alive inside him. Years of pent up frustration, years of hiding hurt behind amiable smiles, of pretending it didn't matter when people made fun of his mind or his clumsiness were surging to the surface. Out of all that pent-up frustration a seething fury was being born.

He crawled out of bed slowly, not wanting to wake Cyn. Suddenly afraid of himself and what he might do to her. He was furious that she had been with Ares though he didn't know why and he was jealous too.

Ares watched from the shadows, mentally noting that he owed Morpheus for this. Clearly, the dreams he'd asked the other god to send the vampire were having an effect. Pleased at the way his plan was proceeding, Ares vanished. He'd check on the boy later.

Scotty went to his flat and dressed slowly his mind in a whirl. He wanted so badly to talk to someone about what he was going through, but he couldn't go to Cyn. Every time he thought of her with Ares, he got angrier. He knew her sexuality was an essential part of her nature. It was what had drawn them together and part of why he loved her so. All those years of being told that he wasn't good enough had taken their toll on his unconscious mind.

He sighed. He thought about finding Lucy, but then realized he was angry with her too. This was her fault. If he'd never met her, he'd still be living in the flat. Still be working at the clothing store; still be blind to what the world thought of him. He'd still have been happy. He realized, in that moment, he was no longer happy. He had begun to metamorphose into someone he didn't know.

As he left the apartment building, he was struck with a fierce longing for his old life. For the sweet blessing of blindness and innocence. He knew the rules, knew he was never to contact anyone from his past. Still, it was a large city. What harm could it do? Maybe if he talked to Maxie, she could help him remember who he was.

Cyn paced her room. Scotty had slipped out without letting her explain and now Vlad had asked her to wait before leaving. He wanted to talk with her. She was annoyed with his tone when he made his request and annoyed with him. In fact, each day she was becoming increasingly more annoyed with the preemptory way he ran the coven. Seemed like she wasn't really as free as he said she would be. It was Cyn you can't do this, Cyn you can't do that. She was working herself into a good sulk when the master vampire finally appeared.

Vlad took one look at her and knew this was Ares work. Despite the seeds of rage and aggression that were inside her, the emotions and feelings he'd discovered when he'd "made" her, Cyn was basically a happy contented person. Now she exhibited all the signs of latent and not so latent hostility, her rage surging to the foreground. "Cyn," Vlad insisted softly, "we need to talk."

"Damn right," she grumbled.

"How many times have you drunk from Ares?"

Cyn didn't try to lie to him. That would have been stupid and even in her anger she was never that. "Three maybe four times."

Vlad nodded. "You're feeling the effects, aren't you? The anger and rage that was dormant inside you is growing. Your impatience, your annoyance level, they're all changing." She nodded. "This is not natural. This is due to your drinking him."

She shrugged. "So?"

Vlad sighed and tried another tack. "Are you unhappy?"

"Why does everyone ask me that?" she snapped. She paused in her pacing to stare at him. His long hair was loose and framed his handsome aristocratic face. His sensual mouth was pursed in a gesture of disapproval, his eyes were lidded with concern. He wore a white silky shirt, open to the waist and she could see his chest. Suddenly her eyes filled with lust. She wanted him. She strode across the room to where he stood and stopped inches from him. She licked her lips and eyed him as if he was a tasty morsel.

Vlad felt the enticement; the lure and the trap of her sexuality wrap itself around him like a blanket. It was overwhelming and overpowering and a lesser man, a lesser vampire would have been helpless in the face of it. But he truly was her master. He went into her mind and whispered, "Stop it. You cannot seduce me with your powers, nor simply by being yourself. Ares is manipulating you."

Her eyes widened. Was that what she was doing? Trying to seduce Vlad because Ares wanted her to? No. The attraction was real; it had always been there. Still . . . "I am attracted to you," she explained aloud. Always have been. When you made me you must have felt it, seen it in my mind. And you can't tell me you don't want me. I saw it then and I see it now." Her eyes raked his body, stopping where his burgeoning erection was beginning to tent out the front of his Armani slacks.

Vlad laughed softly. "Physical needs are immaterial. After so many centuries of living I can control my desires better than that."

"But why should you have to?" she mused thoughtfully. "When you made me I saw why you kept your sensual side hidden away. Because it unleashes the killer in you. But I'm already dead. You can't hurt me. You could indulge yourself and even if you lost control, I could handle it. I'd revel in it," she admitted. She raked her hand down his body, running her nails over his chest and his now hardened shaft.

Vlad sucked in his breath. It was true, he knew. She would revel in the violence, the pain, in the dark and twisted recesses of his psyche. The sex would be incredible, but the aftermath would not be worth it. He shook his head. "No."

She ran her hands over his arms and then gripped his head. She kissed him hard, brutally; let her fangs come out drew blood from his lips and licked it off. The taste lit a fire inside her. She sucked on his lip until he roughly shoved her away. "Stop it, Cyn," he ordered. "And stop seeing Ares. This is more dangerous than you know."

The combination of bloodlust and sexual lust made her reckless. "You're just jealous because he likes me, wants me and isn't afraid to take me. You're a coward, you are!"

Vlad shook his head and left the room. He was going to have to find another way. Cyn wasn't going to listen to reason. At least not right now.

Unseen and unheard the God of War watched and laughed.

Cyn left immediately after that for her night's hunting in a wild state of arousal. Her bloodlust and sexual lust were raging. She gave no thought to Vlad's words; sure that he was simply being a prig. She sashayed down the streets of Auckland feeling all eyes upon her. Still, she was in a mood. Tonight's dinner needed to be something special.

Frustrated, angry and hungry, she kept walking, not paying any attention to her surroundings. With a start, she realized that she had wandered very far afield, down to the docks in fact. Well, there should be some men around there. Suddenly there were five of them surrounding her.

"Hey little girl," mumbled a tall fat man with a scar on his face, "come to have some fun?"

Cyn gave him a disdainful look. Really, who did he think he was? Who did they ALL think they were?

"What's the matter? Scared?" asked a short thin bald man.

"Not hardly," she murmured. "Think you can get some?" she taunted. "Come on, try me."

"Don't have to ask me twice," a burly man in flannel retorted. He moved toward her and before he even knew what hit him, she had hurled him across the dock and into the water.

The four other men converged on her enmass. But they were no match for her, none at all. Between her vampire skills and Ares ichor, she made short work of them. The next one gripped her arm and she flung him outward. Another man tried to grab her around the waist; she kicked him in the nuts and then the face. He fell to the ground moaning. Then she snarled and let her fangs appear.

The third man went for her anyway despite that and got the surprise of his life when she bit him hard on the neck. He shrieked like a stuck pig. The fourth man ran away. Cyn drank the man greedily, not bothering to make it painless, not bothering to offer him any pleasure. She drank and she drank, and she felt the lust rise in her and drank some more. Soon the man was growing limp in her arms and something, she wasn't sure what, made her release him.

He fell to the ground and curled into a tight little ball. He was moaning but still alive. Cyn then heard the sounds of sirens and she melted into the shadows as the first police cars arrived. She kept to the shadows as she went toward home, but she was still in a fever. The rage the fight had ignited, the lust that Vlad had incited and the rich sweet taste of too much blood was making every inch of her throb to a wild animal beat. She wanted sex and she wanted it now.

For the second time in two days, Scotty found himself near the café he and his flatmates used to frequent. He stood in the shadow of a doorway across from it watching. He was lucky almost immediately. Maxie came strolling out of the café, looking as if she hadn't a care in the world. As soon as she got close, Scotty called her name.

She spun her head around as he stepped out of the shadows. "Scotty?" she shouted incredulously. "Scotty, is that you?" She stared at the man before her. "Where have you been? What happened to you? Scotty, I'm so glad to see you!"

He grinned at her and said nothing for a moment. Then she kind of jumped up and threw her arms around him in a hug.

He wrapped his arms around her in response and hugged her tightly. She buried her face in his neck and clung to him. Scotty could feel her emotions. She HAD missed him. Then he felt something wet on his neck.

He titled her face up to his. "Maxie, are you crying?"

She looked at him, her eyes wet with tears. "You big lummox! Where have you been? We've all been so worried about you. You left Halloween night and never came back. You had us all scared to death!"

'How funny is that?' Scotty thought. He could scare them to death now! Scotty stroked her hair and held her tighter. "I'm sorry, Maxie. I never meant to worry you."

"Where have you been? Are you okay?'

"I'm fine," he replied. Her body was soft, warm, and loving against him. He could feel himself getting aroused and feel the hunger for blood grow within him.

"But where are you living? What are you doing? Scotty, tell me!"

He laughed softly and titled her head back toward his face. "Maybe later. Tell me what's been happening with you."

Maxie tensed suddenly in his arms. He guessed it was because she could feel the excitement of his body. She studied his face for a moment, the expression in her eyes unreadable, then she pulled her arms from his neck. "Come back to the flat with me. We can talk there."

Scotty released her and nodded. He allowed her to pull him along by the hand until they reached the flat. She entered and he paused in the doorway as if waiting for something.

Maxie turned back to stare at him. She asked, "What are you waiting for? Come on in!"

Scotty grinned and entered. He'd had to wait for the invitation, though she had no way of knowing that. He followed Maxie into his old flat and saw that it hadn't changed a bit.

"Want something to drink?" Maxie asked.

Scotty's grin widened. "Not just now. Thanks."

Maxie ran to the fridge, got a Coke and then plopped down on the couch. She gestured for Scotty to sit next to her, so he did. "Where is everyone else?" he asked.

"Pippi has a date, VJ's working, Paul moved back in with Ruth and we still haven't found anyone we like well enough for your old room. Plus all your stuff is still there."

"My stuff?"

Maxie nodded. "At first we thought maybe you'd gone off with that woman for a fling. Then when you didn't come back, we got worried. Then, well, when it seemed like you were gone for good, it was kind of like still having you here."

Scotty studied her face. She did seem to have been sincerely worried about him. To have really missed him. Maybe his old friends did care about him. He ran his fingers through his hair in agitation. "I never meant to worry anyone. I just got, well, caught up in things."

"Caught up in things? Maxie repeated. "What things? Scotty, what happened?"

He shook his head. "It's not important." He looked at Maxie, dressed in short overalls and a T-shirt. He wondered why she hid that lovely body in unflattering clothes. He remembered how she'd looked in that short sexy purple dress the night of the Pearl Jam concert. Then he remembered how she said she'd never had an orgasm with a man. He could help her with that! If there was one thing in his new life he was good at, it was bringing women to orgasm!

He reached over and with gentle fingers turned Maxie's face to his. He touched her cheek gently and then ran his fingers over her lips. He looked deeply into her eyes, but was loath to hypnotize her. He wanted it to be real, without tricks.

She smiled at him and her own hand went up to touch his face lightly. Scotty took that as acceptance and his fingers grew bolder. Again he traced her lips and he heard her quick intake of breath.

Now he bent his head to brush her lips softly with his own, pulling her face close. He kept his eyes open, watchful, and was delighted when she closed her eyes and nestled into him. He kissed her gently, the warm loving Scotty back, not the angry violent creature he was afraid of becoming.

Maxie kissed him back and then he parted her lips with his tongue. The second his tongue slipped into her mouth he knew something was wrong. She pulled back and away. "Scotty," she exclaimed.

"What?" he asked.

"What do you think you're doing?"

"You're a beautiful woman, Maxie. Can I help it if I'm attracted to you? I've wanted to do that for a long time."

She shook her head. "You've changed, Scotty."

"In more ways than one," he muttered. "Maxie," he exclaimed excitedly. "Remember the night of the Pearl Jam concert? When you said you'd never . . . " Scotty paused and began to blush. He could see from the look on her face, Maxie remembered it as clearly as he did. "I can help you with that," he added. "I'm . . . I've gotten really good at . . ." His blush deepened and the look on her face was not encouraging but something made him continue. "I know how to give a woman lots of pleasure. I'm sure I can help you have an orgasm." he finished, his face now completely flushed.

"Help me?" she laughed bitterly. "You want to help me? Typical male, after all, aren't you? I thought you were different. You vanish, then come back and the first thing you try to do on your return is have sex with me! You idiot!"

Her words and tone were too much for him. The sexual hunger and hunger for blood took over. How dare she laugh at him! How dare she call him an idiot? He'd show her! He grabbed her face in his hands and kissed her hard. His soft lips crushing hers, his hands holding her face tightly. He kissed her angrily; his tongue parting her lips and moving in and out of her mouth like an attacking weapon.

He thought he heard her moan and one of his hands moved from her face to roam over her body.

He felt her hands on his chest, pushing against him, but he was too far gone and he didn't care. He pushed Maxie back on the couch, on to her back and began tearing at her clothes.

He kept his mouth tightly fastened to hers as his body crushed her to the couch. His hands roughly explored her body. She was writhing beneath him whether to get away or from pleasure he didn't know. He would show her! He would make her come!

He reached down and unzipped his pants, pulling out his hard aching cock and stroking it until it stood straight out from his body.

Maxie's eyes widened as he released himself. Whether from excitement or fear he didn't know.

One hand found her breast and he began to thumb and rub her nipple until it was hard. He pressed his erection against her; he could feel her body beginning to be aroused. Then suddenly, he couldn't wait anymore.

He reached down and guided himself into her. Her opening was small and tight and she wasn't very wet. But he didn't care. She arched beneath him and he knew it wasn't from pleasure. Her hands were hitting him now and he welcomed the violence. He took her hard and fast, slamming into her in a frenzy, his only need to hurt her as she'd hurt him.

He felt his balls tighten up and he knew he was about to come. He pulled his mouth from hers and she screamed. He covered her mouth with his hand, bared his fangs and as her eyes grew wide with terror, he bit her jugular vein hard.

Her whole body jumped. He felt her blood fill his mouth, rich, hot, life giving. He drank greedily as his climax slammed into him. Sated at last, he pulled his fangs out and took his hand off her mouth.

Maxie had passed out beneath him from either pain or fear. As he looked at the bleeding mark on her neck, he realized what he had done.

Disgusted and appalled at himself, he pulled out of her. He ran his hands through his hair. He needed to leave, but he hadn't hypnotized her. She was going to remember.

He slapped at her face, trying to get her to wake up. Finally, her eyes popped open, wide with terror. He really freaked out at the look on her face. As he reached out to touch her, she shrank from him.

He looked deeply into her eyes, "I'm so sorry," he apologized through tears of his own.

He touched her face gently as he hypnotized her. "You never saw me. You don't know who did this to you. Oh god, I'm so sorry!"

Then he turned and ran from her, from his past, from himself. Only he knew the night couldn't hide him. The night owned him. He ran back to the building and into his flat. He sat down in his recliner, wrapped his arms around himself, and began to rock.

Ares, watching, laughed to himself. 'Perfect,' he thought. 'Just perfect.'

Cyn heard loud hard driving rock music coming from somewhere just up ahead of her. It was a nightclub. She shoved her way to the front of the line sure that her looks would get her in. She was right. She passed through a long strobe-lit hallway and entered what looked like some LSD addict's version of an opium den.

The place was a wild riot of color and fabric. There was a long pastel neon lit bar, a huge sunken dance floor ringed by primary colored couches and tables. The place was packed. The dance floor full of gyrating bodies. She could smell sweat and hormones; sexual pheromones permeated the air. There was also the underlying tang of beer and the sweet smell of fresh blood. Someone in the room had been bleeding. Her body began to tingle with anticipation.

She moved casually through the room, eyeing the crowd, looking for just the right prey. He had to be beautiful and well built; worthy of the pleasure she would share with him. For a moment, she was reminded of when she was still human and used to troll bars for sex, but then she had to worry about disease or crazies. Well, nothing and no one could hurt her now, although she was pretty deadly!

She made one complete circuit of the room and as she turned to go to the bar, she felt someone's eyes upon her. She turned around, her vision geared for the darkness. And there he was. Tall, dressed in a skintight blue shirt and black slacks, leaning nonchalantly against a pillar and smoking a thin cigar. He had long blond hair, big blue eyes and a very sardonic expression on his incredibly handsome face. The clothes seemed casual but she recognized them as Versace.

She caught his glance and was about to gesture for him to join her when he gestured for her to come to him. There was a sureness in his gaze and an assumption in his gesture that suggested he was never refused.

Then she felt it. A wave of enticement directed at her. It was coming from . . . him? She smothered a smile. So one of the other vampires in Auckland liked to troll the nightclubs too? Hmmm, this could be very interesting. She wondered if she could fool him.

She tamped down as much of her power as she could and strolled over to where he lounged. "You wanted a word?" she asked pertly.

He looked her up and down, licked his lips and approval slid into his eyes. "I'm Michael."

"Evening, Michael," she remarked. "I'm Cyn, because not everyone can be a saint."

His eyes widened slightly, but otherwise he exhibited no outward reaction. As far as Cyn was concerned, that was a very big point in his favor.

"Can I buy you a drink?" he asked softly.

His voice was rich and deep, she wondered if that's what it had been like before or if it was part of his vampire skill. "I'll have whatever you're having," she retorted mischievously. 'Let's see what he does with that one,' she thought.

He signaled for a waitress, who appeared immediately and he ordered, "A Virgin Mary for the lady and another for me."

Cyn had to work really hard to keep from giggling. Tomato juice? Christ, she'd rather die than drink that stuff.

"Never seen you here before," Michael commented. "Your first time?"

Cyn nodded. The music stopped suddenly and the dance floor emptied. Now instead of the 90's hot mix, there was a band moving on to the stage. She wondered who they were. Her gaze shifted to the crowd, she could feel the sexual energy flowing around her and it was making her even more randy.

She turned to stare at Michael. She licked her lips and asked, "You a regular, then?"

He shrugged his shoulders elegantly. She could see muscles ripple under the skintight shirt. "On and off. I like the band."

"Who are they?" she asked idly. This was beginning to bore her. She was remembering how much she hated small talk.

"The Wide Lapels. Seventies cover band. Not bad."

"Hmmm," she mumbled. She put her thumbnail in her mouth and began to chew on it. That usually worked.

Michael's eyes were now glued to her lips. The cigar dropped from his fingers into an ashtray. "Are you alone?" he asked.

"As alone as can be," she muttered absently. The band was beginning to take the stage and her eyes were now focused on the tall lead singer who took center stage. There was something vaguely familiar about him.

"You know," Michael advised her, "it's very tough to hear in here once the band gets cooking. Perhaps we should go somewhere quieter."

She tore her gaze from the stage and looked at him. His eyes were focused on hers and she could feel the pull he was trying to use to lure her. She smiled and agreed, "Sure. Lead me on."

He put his arm through hers and led her toward a door in the back. It led to an alley. A very dark and deserted alley.

Cyn pretended she couldn't see and stumbled against him. He gripped her about the waist and pressed her against the concrete wall.

"Cyn, look at me," he commanded in what was supposed to be a hypnotic voice.

She did. She opened her eyes wide and pretended to be entranced. He touched her face lightly and stared into her eyes and then let his fangs come out.

She burst into a fit of giggles at the sight. Clearly, this was not the effect he anticipated having. His eyes went wide and then his facial features turned from suave to fierce. "You think this is a joke?"

"Nah," she mumbled through more giggles. "I think you're an idiot. Don't you recognize your own kind when you meet 'em?" And with that, she let her own fangs appear.

If it was possible for a vampire to turn pale, he did. He was surprised and NOT pleasantly. "You knew?"

"Takes one to know one," she remarked. "Can't believe you hadn't a clue."

"Shit. Now what do I do? I need to eat."

"Well, Michael," she murmured seductively, "no one said you couldn't eat me."

Cyn was in an excellent mood two hours later when she finally returned to the block of flats. Not only had she fed twice she'd also managed to come three times.

She rushed through the front door determined to find Vlad. She ran to the office but he wasn't there. Next she tried the library, but he wasn't there either. She thought about going to his bedroom, but after their earlier encounter, she decided that probably wasn't the smartest idea. On the other hand . . . She went back to the office and looked at the closed door that led to Vlad's private quarters.

She hesitated there for a long moment, not sure why, only knowing somehow that crossing that threshold to the only place that Vlad seemed to hold private was dangerous. She raised her hand to knock when she felt him in her mind. "No, Cyn. I'm not there and you are not welcome."

She answered him telepathically. "I need to speak with you. Where are you?"

"Go to your flat. Wait for me there."

Her flat? She nodded and then realized that he couldn't see it. She mentally said yes and did as he commanded.

She was so focused on her own thoughts that she didn't notice Scotty's open door when she entered her flat. She paced back and forth impatiently while she waited. She was vibrating with excitement.

She heard a very formal knock and knew it was him. "Vlad, please come in."

He strolled in looking calm and serene as if he had worked out some great difficulty and was pleased by its resolution. His skin looked almost rosy and his lips were red as if he had just fed or had sex or maybe both. Cyn felt another wave of desire wash over her but she tamped it down. Someday, maybe . . .

"You need to get that idea out of your mind," he urged her almost laconically. He sat down on the couch, crossed his legs and straightened the creases in his slacks. "It will never happen. So it would be best if you stopped thinking about it." He paused and studied her. "What's so important?"

"While I was out tonight I met . . ." she began excitedly.

He interrupted her. "I know all about your little adventure down on the docks. It's a good thing I have police on the payroll. You didn't bother to hypnotize that man, but I took care of it."

She shook her head. "Sorry," she apologized negligently. "But later, I met . . ." she took a deep breath. "I met another vampire. I was in a nightclub. They own it. Vlad, I think, no, I KNOW I need something to do. Could I, that is . . . " she saw the look of distaste on his face and stopped speaking.

"My vampires do not work in pubs," he retorted disdainfully.

"Oh yeah? Well, I know you've got more money than god, cause you're very generous with it, but I need something to do. I worked all my adult life. I'm not used to being idle. I'm bored," she added.

"Bored?" he echoed. "Very well, Cyn. What would you like to do?"

"I like pubs. I'd be good at running one."

He shook his head. "No. Let me think on it, Cyn. You're very bright. Perhaps I can figure out another enterprise for you to undertake."

"Make it soon," she muttered in an undertone as he rose from the couch.

As soon as the door shut behind Vlad, she heard that wind sound and found herself eye to eye with Ares. He was his usual gorgeous self, but she wasn't in the mood. She ignored his physical presence and potent sexuality and stormed into the bathroom.

He stood there for a moment looking after her. Then he heard the sound of water running in the Jacuzzi. He thought himself in there and sure enough, Cyn was stripping down. "Want some help?" he asked.

"Go away," she snapped without even looking at him.

"Now is that any way to talk to someone who can make all your dreams come true?"

"What makes you think you know what they are?"

He studied her naked body as she climbed into the tub. "I know you, Cyn. I know all about you."

"Bollux," she retorted. "You don't know shit about me."

Without asking he made his clothing vanish and joined her in the tub. He slid in behind her and began to massage her shoulders. His strong hands kneaded the tight muscles in her neck.

She let him have his way for the moment too fed up to argue with him. His hands were working magic on the muscles she didn't even realize were tense. He massaged her almost gently, his touch warm on her cool skin. She let herself relax against him, feeling the furry hair on his hard chest rub softly against her back.

She sighed and felt her body begin the journey into arousal. She relaxed and let the water flow over her, it was hot and scented and the jets were making it pulse, sending a smooth sexy vibration all over her. Now Ares soft lips replaced his hands, they glided along the nape of her neck, licking, kissing, and caressing that sensitive skin. His fingers were sliding up and down her arms then around her waist and up to caress her breasts.

She moaned and felt herself begin to grow wet with desire. She felt his shaft press against her butt. She ran her hands along the tops of his thighs which were stretched out on either side of hers, feeling the soft furry down on his legs.

His mouth was on her neck now, licking her jugular vein and it sent a shiver through her. Then he nipped her with his teeth.

She groaned his name and twisted her head to reach his mouth. He grinned diabolically at her. She grabbed his head and kissed him hard, ripping his bottom lip with her fangs. She tasted the blood and despite the quantity she'd already consumed wanted more.

He pulled back; his eyes glittering and his grin even more evil. "No," he rebuked.

"What do you mean, no?" she growled.

He gripped her head tightly. "You will never drink from me again without my permission."

"Or you'll do what?" she taunted him. "Kill me? Go ahead. I'm sure that would get you whatever it is you want."

The anger flared in him, she could feel it like a lightening bolt flash through him, the rage that lived in him, also lived in her and his anger ignited hers. He grunted, released her head and grabbed her waist instead. With one hand he lifted her up and then set her down, impaling her on his hard shaft.

She groaned as he filled her and her head jerked forward. He held her hips with one hand and the other hand was across her chest, keeping her from turning, from moving.

She felt his mouth on her neck, again on her jugular vein, his teeth teasing the flesh. He pounded up into her hard, his thrusts full of anger and rage. Even without being joined to him in the act of drinking, she could feel his emotions. Then she felt him, in her mind.

He was looking over her life again, seeing the past few weeks. When he realized that she loved Scotty, he clearly didn't like it. The hand over her chest began to roughly squeeze her breasts, tweaking a nipple until it hurt. Except he knew she wouldn't mind a little pain.

Abruptly he stopped. Stopped groping her, stopped thrusting, left her mind. He withdrew his still hard shaft from her as well.

"Why'd you stop?" she asked breathlessly.

"Turn around," he muttered.

"What?"

"Damn it, I said turn or I'll do it myself."

There was something in his voice she'd never heard before. This was a dangerous fury, not the playful teasing kind he'd exhibited before. It made her obey him. Slowly she turned around to face him. His eyes were dark and enraged, his mouth was a hard thin line. The muscles in his jaw were twitching.

He pulled her on to his lap, again impaling her on his hard shaft. She bent her head to his chest and began to lick and suck his nipples as he once again thrust into her. He held her hips steady and pushed hard, his pelvis grinding against her, his fingers digging into her flesh.

She pulled back to breathe and noticed again how his jugular seemed to call to her. The vein throbbed harder than her clit did. She moaned.

He stared at her for a long moment, the lust and hunger naked in his eyes. "Do it," he growled.

She licked her lips and sank her fangs in. As she did, he took one of her nipples into his mouth, bit down and thrust up so hard, she felt as if he'd broken down a wall inside her. Then she knew, suddenly and completely, she knew everything. He'd opened a door in his mind to her, a hidden compartment of all things won and all things lost.

As his ichor hit her system with the force of a tsunami, she saw what he was, had been, and could have been. The images flowed fast and the emotions raced and raged. She saw his pain, his fears, and his moments of weakness and of strength. She saw rare glimpses of an almost human Ares and his rarer moments of nobility. She saw that he was completely aware of all his faults and loathed himself for them. She became aware that he viewed all human emotions as weaknesses and yet envied humans their ability to feel. She saw the jealousy and rage that lived inside him like a living breathing organism, the same kind of rage that lived in her. She saw his anger and frustration because he always had to be strong, because he couldn't, wouldn't let anyone in and his anger at himself for allowing her to see that. She saw how much he despised love, how he viewed it as the ultimate weakness and yet . . .

The combination of his ichor and the depth of his soul were too much for her. She realized that she had just seen a part of him very few had ever seen. That Ares, fierce, evil, manipulative and cruel as he could be, had a part of him that wanted to be otherwise. A part of him that yearned for everything he denied himself and didn't know how to get it and was still, after so many centuries, searching for a way to achieve it. It touched her heart in a way she had never expected and it took her breath away. She pulled her fangs out and felt an intense orgasm wash over. She howled his name as she began to climax.

As the first scream left her lips, she heard another howl. It wasn't her and it wasn't him. It was . . . she twisted her head. Scotty stood just inside the doorway of the loo, his eyes wild, his face incredibly hurt and his body trembling.

"Oh, Christ," she panted. "Scotty . . . " She tried to wriggle free, but Ares kept a tight grip on her and he was much stronger.

"I'm not finished yet," the god declared loudly.

"You bastard," she hissed.

He laughed.

"Scotty, I don't know what to say."

He shook his head; his eyes full of pain and then he walked out.

Again Ares laughed. "Guess what's good for the gander isn't so good for the goose."

"You prick," she muttered. "Let me go."

"Not till I'm done," he whispered. He bent his head, took her nipple back into his mouth, and began to suck it gently.

Despite her anger, despite her concern for Scotty, despite everything, her body, traitor that it was, was responding. And she hated herself for it. Ares slipped a hand down her belly and began to rub her clit. She felt another orgasm engulf her as the god groaned and came inside her. Still he kept her hips pinned.

"Let me go," she asked again.

"Why?" he muttered. "What's the point?"

"You don't get it do you?" she asked rhetorically. "I hurt him. I need to apologize."

"Apologize?" he said the word like it was one he'd never used before. "For what?"

She shook her head. "You'd never understand."

He shook his head. "You're wrong, Cyn. I understand perfectly. It's you who don't get it. Your lover's job is to screw every vampire in this coven. You never let it bother you. He walks in and sees you with me and suddenly you're in the wrong? Suddenly you've done something to apologize for?" He shook his head again. "Think about it."

She stared at him. "You did this on purpose, didn't you? You wanted him to catch us."

"Moi?" he echoed innocently. "Why would I do that?"

"I dunno. But I know you. What are you trying to do?"

"I was trying to satisfy one of my more human like urges with a willing partner before I was so rudely interrupted. Doesn't anyone knock around here?"

"Just stop it," she shouted angrily. "What do you want?"

"That," he whispered. "You and that rage in you. It's very attractive."

"That . . ." she echoed. He wanted her anger? Why? Suddenly she knew the answer to that too. "I'm yours," she whispered. "I'm your blood."

He grinned. "Indeed you are. Just think what a team we'd make, Cyn. I saw you tonight when you fought those men. You were magnificent. The power you have has already been greatly enhanced and we can continue to make it more so. Together . . ."

"What? You mean leave here? What could we do together?"

"Yes, leave here. And we could do anything you'd like," he hinted seductively. "You could rule the world."

"Rule the world?" she repeated. Then she began to giggle.

He didn't like that. His face grew angry, the eyes once again furious. "Do NOT mock me," he hissed.

"Ares," she demurred gently. "I don't want to rule the world."

"Don't humor me either," he retorted angrily. "I'm very powerful. I can kill you with a thought."

"Yes," she murmured. "I'm sure you could. But why bother? And just think of the fun you'd miss if you did!"

For a moment, she thought she'd gone to far. Then his mouth began to twitch. "This is not over," he muttered.

"Not by half," she agreed in an undertone.

He studied her face. The anger was gone for now. Still, for that one brief moment, it had been a radiant luminous light. She had what it took, he knew it. Now he just needed to convince her. Well, the seeds of discontent and dissent had been sown. Time enough for them to ripen and for him to harvest their brutal crop. "I'll see you soon," he promised enigmatically. Then he vanished.

She sat there for another moment and then hurried out of the tub. She had to find Scotty.

Scotty had gone in search of Mr. D. Between what had happened with Maxie and seeing Cyn feeding on a god, he was a mess. Scotty found Mr. D in the library deep in thought. Mr. D had a stack of books in front of him and a notepad. "What happens if I want to leave?" Scotty asked without preamble or apology.

Vlad looked up and what he saw shocked him. Normally amiable and placid Scotty was trembling with emotion. His eyes were wild, glittering; his body was in almost constant motion, his feet shifting, his hands rubbing his arms. "No one has ever left," Vlad answered. "At least not voluntarily."

"And if I wanted to?"

Vlad eyed him thoughtfully. "Sit down, Scotty. Tell me what happened," he suggested.

Scotty shook his head and began to pace. "Just tell me. Can I go?"

"Go where?"

"I dunno. Just away from her. From here," he amended.

"Something happened with Cyn," Vlad mused. "Didn't it?"

Scotty stopped pacing and his whole body began to shake uncontrollably. "She was . . . I saw . . . I don't think I can . . ."

Vlad rose from his chair and put a hand on the boy's shoulder. Scotty shook him off. "I want to hit something," Scotty growled.

Vlad could feel the rage in him, feel the anger and jealousy poisoning him like a foreign substance in his blood. It was a foreign substance, Ares ichor that was causing it. Well, at least part of it. Again he touched Scotty, but this time he touched him with his mind as well, trying to calm the boy. He gently maneuvered him to a chair and forced him to sit. "Scotty," Vlad declared softly, "You know what she's like. It's just sex to her. Nothing else."

"He's a god," Scotty whispered helplessly. "How can I possibly . . ."

"He's the biggest bastard the world has ever known," she admitted loudly. "You have nothing to fear from him."

Scotty's head jerked up and he stared at her.

Cyn looked at Vlad and asked softly, "May I please speak to him alone?"

Vlad nodded and left. So Ares had been there and this time he'd made sure Scotty had seen them together. Things were beginning to spin out of control; he had to do something.

Cyn went to Scotty and knelt at his feet. She took his hands in hers and apologized, "Scotty, I'm so sorry."

He pulled his hands away. "Sorry I caught you or sorry you did him?"

"I'm not going to apologize for having sex with him," she retorted. "But I am sorry you saw us. Only, you've seen me feed, seen me with other men before, why are you so upset?"

"I dunno," he muttered unhappily. "But it's different. He's a god. It would be like seeing you with Mr. D. It's just . . . different." He turned away.

"Scotty," she murmured his name. She stood up and crawled into his lap. She pulled his face to hers and looked deeply into his eyes. She could see his fear, his hurt and his jealousy. She felt her heart turn over. "You have nothing to fear," she whispered. She touched his face, "I love you."

His eyes widened and some of the tension eased out of his body. "You do?" he asked incredulously.

She put her arms around his neck and confessed, "Yes. I love you. Dunno why I couldn't say it the other day, but I do."

"Cyn," he murmured. He buried his face in her wet hair and wrapped his arms around her. "I can stop being with the others if you want. I'm sure if I explained to Mr. D . . . "

"No," she whispered. "It's okay. I don't mind. Honestly."

"Cyn, if I were to ask you to . . ."

"No more talking," she murmured softly, afraid of what he was about to ask her and more afraid of what her answer would be. "Take me to bed and make love to me."

He pulled back to study her face. The look in her eyes overwhelmed him. He picked her up and took her to his flat.

When they got there though, Scotty set her down and began to pace. She studied him carefully. He was running his hands through his hair in agitation, making it stand wildly on end.

She stretched out with her senses, knowing somehow that more was wrong than just this thing with Ares. She was loath to ask him anything until she had a better feel for what was going on with him. She felt such strong dark emotion. But that was impossible! Scotty feeling rage? He NEVER got angry, never got upset. What in the hell was going on here?

"Scotty," Cyn asked, taking his hands in hers, "tell me what's wrong."

"Wrong?" he echoed softly as he pulled his hands away. "What could be wrong besides what I just saw?"

Cyn's mouth dropped open in shock. Now she KNEW something was very wrong. Scotty never lied and he was terrible at it.

"Scotty!" she exclaimed. She moved closer to him, demanding his attention. When he wouldn't look at her, she pulled his face to hers and stared into his eyes. His eyes slid away and refused to come back. Cyn's will and now her powers were much stronger. She concentrated hard and his eyes slowly met hers. "Don't do that," she whispered softly. "Talk to me."

"Why?" he muttered angrily. "You have no interest in me anymore anyway."

"What ever gave you that idea?" she asked. She knew Scotty had been angry and hurt when they'd gone to sleep the first time he'd seen her with Ares. Then she got it. Damn Ares! This must be what he was after, to isolate her from the people she loved. So that she would have no choice but to agree to what he wanted. She grudgingly admired the god's ability to manipulate people and situations for his own advantage. Well, as determined as he was to get what he wanted, she was just as determined NOT to let him succeed.

"Scotty," she whispered, "don't let him win."

Scotty's head jerked as if he'd been slapped. "Why are you making this about him? I know I'm not as smart as he is. I'm not as powerful as he is. Hell, I'm not a god, just a stupid vampire. But that never seemed to matter before. Why is he so important to you?"

"Oh Scotty . . ." Cyn wrapped her arms around him and pushed him into the recliner. She climbed into his lap. She cradled his head at her breast and murmured, "I love you. Not him." She touched his face gently. "Look at me, Scotty."

Scotty slowly raised his face, afraid of what he would see. But when his eyes met hers, he saw an overpowering love in her eyes and a wild longing too. "Cyn," he whispered her name reverently. "You do love me," he acknowledged with surprise.

"Yes, I do. Oh Scotty, what's been happening to you? You're so angry. It's not like you. I can feel so much rage inside you. It's eating you up. Talk to me!"

Scotty studied her face. Concern was mixed with the love on her beautiful face. He could feel suddenly, the love she was radiating at him, stronger than he'd ever felt it before. As she reached up to touch his face, he felt tears come to his eyes and then the words began to tumble out.

It was all mixed up in his head, his anger about Ares, his anger at her and Lucy, his fear at what he was becoming. The rage he was afraid he couldn't control and the powerful bloodlust it lit in him. Then the unspeakable and unacknowledged joy he'd felt when he'd fed violently on the man and then beat him up. Lastly, in a voice thick with regret and self-loathing the deep shame he'd felt at his rape of Maxie.

Cyn held Scotty tightly, sending him all the love she felt, knowing this was her fault. It didn't matter that she hadn't directly incited this in him. She knew now it was Ares, using his godly powers and simple psychology to manipulate Scotty. Damn him. Still, she had to admire his style. God, he was so clever. He knew she would be furious if he actually hurt Scotty, but she was sure that he thought that she couldn't hold him responsible for this.

She could hear him now as if he had spoken. "What did I do? Can I help it if he's a vampire? He's just giving in to his true nature." Well, if Ares thought that he was wrong. He was certainly going to get a big piece of her mind. This was NOT acceptable.

Cyn held Scotty even more tightly as he began to sob in her arms. She stroked his hair and kissed his forehead gently. She began to tap the vast reservoir of power that was building in her from her time with the god. She hadn't yet begun to explore the differences in her, though she knew they were there. She knew she now had some of the same skills Ares did. Her senses were sharper, her ability to send and receive emotions more powerful. She enveloped Scotty in a healing love, all the warmth and affection she felt for him, wrapping itself around him as if it were a living breathing plant surrounding him in tendrils of love. She felt him stir beneath her.

She moved into his mind. She found the pain and the rage and began to slowly remove and replace it. She wasn't strong enough or confident enough to remove the memories, but she could modify his emotions. She pulled his rage out, taking it inside herself, replacing it with love. She could feel his mental shock at what she was doing, and then she could feel his gratitude as he let it go.

He nestled against her, a soft sigh escaping his lips as he felt an overwhelming love and tenderness wrap itself around him. His head now rested gently against her breasts, his breathing slower. His sobs had stopped the tears stilled by her love. Suddenly he raised his face to hers and confessed, "I love you so much."

"I know," she whispered. "I know." She kissed his lips lightly. "It's going to be okay, Scotty. I promise you, I'll take care of it."

"How?" Scotty asked.

"Let me worry about that," she acknowledged through clenched teeth. "I promise you, Scotty. I will stop this. Somehow."

To Be Continued

Flatmates Stories

Story Index

Romance Down Under