Chapter Text
It was almost midnight and Simon was bored. He was bored out of his wits most of the time, because he couldn’t think of a sin he was not yet guilty of, no debauchery he hadn’t tried, no passion he hadn’t savored. The woman that presented her wrist to him as an aperitif on the red cushioned couch in the club, where his kin was frequently gathering on the weekend nights, was boring as well. Her eyes were empty, her blood smelled corruptness, her skin was scarred all over from the bites she had received over time. She was tasteless, useless. She would not be able to scratch the itch he felt rasping his nerves – and neither would any of the other half dead creatures around him who were lingering on the brim of consumption. Simon pushed her hand away with an annoyed grunt and stood, emptying his glass in a single tug before he went for the door.
Just let me out of here.
But fortune failed him that night and a dark haired figure stepped into his way. He was tall and thin with pale skin and long white fingers – a ludicrous caricature of a vampire.
“Leaving already? Fun is just about to start”, August chanted and displayed a nasty grin.
The blond girl that was leaning into his side huffed a drunken giggle. She could hardly stand on her feet and her eyes kept rolling into the back of her head like she was a broken doll. Simon scanned her with a disgusted frown. She was drained already and would not survive this night, pretty sure. This was not for him. He wasn’t even hungry.
This is all just too stupid.
Without wasting another word he pushed past August and out the door. The black of the night swallowed him up, and Simon took a deep breath with relieve. It was good to be out, good to get some space. The way his clan seemed to close in on him lately after the old man had died, how they sneaked around him, licking his boots and pledging their allegiance was gross. He had been prepared to take the lead for a while now. Whispering voices had carried rumors his way that the old one was to be taken down. Decades in his position had rendered the latest clan chief stubborn and weak at the same time. He was no longer to be trusted. So they had ended him. Under normal circumstances the vacancy would have led to conflict, to aggression and bloodshed among the members. But times were tough, there were too many of them. The city pulled vampires in from all over the world. For some unknown reason it had become fancy to join the London clans. Only it rendered it harder and harder to stay under the radar of the officials. It was kind of a deal. Police wouldn’t try to fight them as it would end in a butchering. For this the vampires only took what they needed to survive – no extravagances, no squandering. Of course they still knew how to feast. But they kept quiet about it to not stir the humans up. People disappeared once in a while, it couldn’t be helped. But it was much safer for the authorities to turn a blind eye than to call them out on it. Vampires were dangerous. HUNGRY vampires were lethal. Leaders were needed who were aware of this fragile balance to ensure peace on both sides. Simon had grown into the secret mechanics of the city over the years. He was upholding good connections to the officials, had friends at the police and debtors in the town hall. His family was relying on him for a reason, and there was little doubt he would step in as the next London clan chief. If he did well he would rise still, become a main leader one day and rule the country. But for now he was fighting that peculiar hollow feeling that was about to take over his whole self and throw him into a fit of frustration. A wolfish growl rolled from his throat as he stared up at the moon that had escaped a thick cloud and was now sending its shine down into the empty street like anyone had asked for the fucking light. Simon flinched and took off in the direction of the water. He needed to liberate his thoughts, refresh his thinking so he could focus on the important issues that were waiting ahead, demanding to be solved. If he wanted to take the crown, he was expected to deliver.
A smooching noise reached his sensitive ears from the obscurity of a doorstep, where a young couple was kissing in the shadows, devouring each other with eager lips. Simon glanced at them in the passing. It wasn’t like he felt a lot at the sight. He found them cute at best. It was cute how the heat flowed between their human bodies, how they connected their lips without biting, how they devoured nothing but hot air. Simon had a thing for lovers. They had a special taste, just like the love between them made their blood extra bubbly, extra sweet. More than once he had found himself between two bodies breathing their last, entangled in a loving embrace while their intermingled blood was drying on his lips. Simon found it was fitting. If they wanted to be together, he would give them the chance. Live together, die together. It was cute. It was sweet. It was something, he could never have.
The night was cold, for winter was finally approaching, and a piercing November breeze ate away at his body that was wrapped up in a huge jacket but was still shivering underneath. Simon despised the cold. He was always cold from the inside out – one of the downsides of being a creature of the night. Winter weather did not help to endure that. He buried his hands in the pockets of his jacket and tucked his head in as he continued his walk down to the shore of the river. Quietly and glistening the water of the Thames flowed by, contorted mirror images of the few stars that blinked through the smog sparkling on the pitch black surface. It was soothing to watch how the current swept everything away, washed the shore clean and took all things downriver with it. The race of the stream would never stop –powerfully, mercilessly. Simon stood and listened to the rushing sound of the water, letting his thoughts ride the waves like a paper boat, when suddenly a different noise disturbed the silence. A grunt, followed by a clang and a gruff, muffled roar. Simon pulled up his head. The sound was interesting.
Non-human.
He quickened his steps – not much, only a little, telling himself that he didn’t care, because he had other things to think about. But curiosity hit him as he approached the narrow underpass where the sounds emerged from. It was dark in there – a place most humans avoided for the lack of proper lighting since the two old lamps on the ceiling had been smashed and never gotten replaced. But his vampire eyes could clearly discern two figures in the frame of the arch of the tunnel, entangled in a grim fight. One of them looked human, the other one though ... It had four feet, a tail, a big head with a horn on its nose and burning, silvery eyes. A Scorcher! Simon didn’t care about creatures like them. Dangerous as they were for humans, they were nothing but pests for vampires. Some of his acquaintances kept Scorchers as pets. Simon would never. They were ugly, unpredictable – and they stank. But there was another smell filling the air, something sweet and spicy with the taint of a little sweat and loads of adrenaline. It smelled masc. It smelled delicious. With a blink the vampire was at the scene, hidden in the shadows of the underpass, watching as the Scorcher jumped the man that had just struggled to his feet and went down again. Simon could see the short blade blink in his hand right before he buried it in the belly of the monster. The thrust was well placed, but the knife was too small. It didn’t destroy enough of flesh to stop the beast from biting down on him. A strangled sound emerged when the man pushed against the animal that was all over him, turning his head left and right to evade the snaps of its big teeth.
Instantly, Simon reacted. He didn’t really know why, though. In a normal night he would have just stood and watched until the fight was over, feeding on the heat of the mortal combat and the testosterone in the air. But something made him move, made him reach out. Maybe it was the smell that was almost covered by the stink of the beast, but it was there, warm and alluring. It drew him in like nothing normal and made his heart beat faster and his pulse rush with a throb. He hadn’t really been eager for a bite tonight, but he would gladly change his plans if the taste of this human came close to what his scent promised. But first he had to get rid of the roaring mutt. With a tight clasp he grabbed the Scorcher by the neck and threw it against the wall. A squeaking sound accompanied the shattering of its spine. Simon didn’t so much as pant. The throw of the heavy animal hadn’t been more than a flick of the wrist for him. With a curious gaze he looked down at the man that lay at his feet on the cold pavement. He was clothed all black – black pants, black sweater, black jacket – only his short, almost white hair shone like the moonlight, even in the deep shadows of the unlit underpass. He stared back at Simon with eyes the color of caramel, mouth open with heavy breathing, and a look on his face full of disgust. It made rage bubble up in Simon’s belly. Why had he just saved that fucker’s life if he now looked at him with all that scorn? Given – he had not really SAVED him. He had more shoved his way to the dinner table, for the smell that was getting stronger, now that the Scorcher was turning cold, sent Simon spiraling. The solemn face with the high cheek bones and finely carved lips that belonged to the scent was just as exquisite – if not more. Simon felt his breath accelerate slightly at the sight as he drilled his eyes into the figure on the ground who looked up at him, startled and watchful. The vampire’s nostrils flared, and he felt his gums starting to water as the young man collected himself, scrambled to his feet and stood.
Damn Lucifer, he’s tall!
The way Simon had to glance upwards to reach his eyes gave him even more of a craving to sink his teeth into that marble white neck right in front of his nose. The man kept his gaze glued to his face all alert, and Simon noticed the tight grip around the bloody knife he was still clutching. The blade emitted a bright sparkle, even though it was stained, and made Simon flinch.
Silver. What has that guy been up to?
This was surely not a nightly wanderer on a lazy walk to escape insomnia. Simon’s eyes ran down his body that was neatly hidden under his all black clothing. But he could well imagine the play of the strong muscles of his chest and arms as the young man stood there all tense, waiting for him to move first. Simon would not do him the favor, for he was not done with staring and taking in all of this exceptional beauty he had unexpectedly found at the filthy banks of the river for yet a while. Time was a sole illusion anyway. But humans were impatient beings, always so eager to fiddle and blabber. So, after a moment of heavy silence the blond boy curled his lip.
“Back off, vampire!”, he snarled, and his tone was not a scrap thankful.
Simon tilted his head to the side like he was actually pondering upon the option. The fact alone that this man had recognized him as a vampire was interesting. Common people could never tell his kind apart from humans. This ignorance made them the easy prey they were. They didn’t fear them because they didn’t see them coming. This one though …
Something disturbing is going on here.
A thing disturbing as much as it was alluring. Simon stared without blinking. His instincts were all confused, sending mixed signals to his brain that kept him from doing what his nature would normally make him do. In any other situation he would have perched on the boy an eternity ago, pressed him against the wall, held his wrists in a tight grip so he would lose that infamous toy-knife. He would use his powers of seduction to make him give in, make him present his pulsing vein to him with a whimper of devotion. His heart started to race as the lively pictures formed in his mind’s eye. He hadn’t been a bit hungry all week. Now he couldn’t wait to savor the sweet taste of that boiling, testosterone-heavy blood to the last drop, drink him in, bleed him dry until his body dissolved like they did when his kind was done with them. But he couldn’t. He was caught by some infernal spell that prevented his limbs from moving and glued him down on the spot. He just kept drilling into these hazel-brown eyes that were sparkling with heed, evaluation and – detestation? Simon was taken aback. Normally, humans were enchanted and mesmerized by his chiseled countenance alone. More often than not he did not even need to retort to his powers of charm to make them surrender themselves to his passion. What was wrong with this individual? How had Simon deserved that repulsed look? A low growl escaped his throat before he could check it.
“Is that your way to say thank you?”
“I didn’t call for help”, the man snapped, drawing back a few more steps.
The vampire would not admit, but he was equally vexed and intrigued by the opposition of the hunter. For a hunter he was – clearly. One of those raving mavericks who roamed the nights and cleaned the sewers of scrap. The kind of wriggling, oozing or clawing scrap police was too scared or too disgusted to touch. It was a nasty and dangerous profession, and most of his type didn’t live beyond the age of thirty before some grunting and drooling obscenity would put an end to their wretched existences. Simon felt no sympathy for them. Those guys were clearly out of their minds to put up with this shit. Simon’s private encounters with hunters were scarce, as they kept mostly to themselves and their shadows, and the chase for vampires had been terminated a long time ago, when authorities had found the balance was easier to bear than the battle. Still the old feud was lingering in the air and now adding a good deal of spice to this nightly meetup. Simon didn’t fear him.
Hell no.
But engaging with a hunter brought nothing but trouble. They were watchful and hard-hitting, even able to resist his allure – obviously. The man opposite looked very much like he could put up a good fight. But would he attempt to attack a grown ass vampire?
Would he be that stupid?
Simon could easily break him in half with his bare hands. Still he figured that it would be a lot wiser and reasonable to steer clear of this person and leave them to their business. If not the smell of his skin was growing stronger and stronger the more defensive he got. He was so gorgeous as he stood there, shaking with anticipation, body all tensed up, jaws clenched and vivid eyes glaring, so enticing, so edible. And it would be such a shame to just let him pass. Greed welled up in Simon’s belly and rolled through his body like a tidal wave. He could feel it building up, soaring through his whole frame, gaining more and more force until it culminated in his chest and crashed in a vortex of white spray, tearing the reasoning and restraint he was trying so hard to uphold down with it. His appetite was getting the better of him, telling him that there was no use in wasting more time on communication with that stubborn slasher, shoved his thinking off the cliff and let instinct take over. Simon wanted to feel him, inhale him whole and see those caramel eyes grow dim when the light of life left them.
Why waste the delicacies to the underground venom?
In a rush he was upon him. The vehemence, with which Simon pushed the man against the wall in his back hauled the knife out of his hand. It fell to the ground with a clatter and Simon kicked it away, far out of reach. But the hunter would not be easily overwhelmed like that. He threw himself against Simon who was caught by surprise and stumbled a few steps backwards. But it only took him a split second to grab the blond boy by his jacket and tear him down so he sprawled out on the concrete for a second time that night. Simon held him on the ground with his hands as he crawled up on the guy. The smell of the man was sloshing over him and dazed his senses. It tasted hot now, spicy almost. There was only one ingredient missing that would have made the scent perfect: fear. But there was none.
How is that even possible?
When the vampire stared down into the pupils that looked up at him in the dark, he found something unsettling in their depth instead. Was it – hope?
Well sugar, I got news for you!
Simon split his lips and revealed his pointy fangs that stuck out over his other teeth – only a little, but enough to break the skin of his victims with a deadly bite. At the sight, the man under him stirred into action, tried to pull his body out of the vampire’s grip, but the attempt was futile. Simon kept mercilessly pinning him down, a purring sound emerging from his throat as he lowered his face onto the base of his long neck. The intoxicating scent of the boy wrapped him up and he almost lost the bit of control that kept him from tearing this tidbit limb from limb, to devour him in a beastly manner just like the Scorcher had planned to do. But Simon wasn’t like this. He would indulge, he would feast on him like his beauty deserved it, he would drink him drop by precious drop. But oh, how much better it would be if he could take him in more ways than one back in his apartment, to make him moan and plead and make his bedsheets smell like him to hide his face in them long after the body was gone.
What the hell?
Why was he being all sentimental about this random guy that had become calm between his knees by now and kept staring up at him, jaws still clenched and that hot as fuck defiant look on his face?
I want to kiss him. Kiss him like the humans do when they are lustful.
He wanted to taste that skin so badly before the blood, see if those lips were anything like he imagined them to be. If they could make him feel something. But it was obvious that Simon’s seduction powers were not working on the man, and he didn’t seem to be in for some passionate making out with a stranger on the cold wet ground on the banks of the Thames. The lips of the blond boy were pressed together in a thin line, not making way to be tasted as he kept watching the vampire on top of him with vivid eyes like he could still find a way out of this.
You won’t, sweetheart. Because you’re MINE.
The vampire slowly tilted his head so he could feel the puffy breath of the other man on his skin. The life that was pouring from his heated body was intoxicating, the sound of his breathing like a song in his ears.
It’s gonna feel so good!
“Don’t!”, the hunter gasped, and although it was only natural for him to show resistance, it felt like a slap in the face that hurt in a way, Simon could not really pin down.
These shouldn't be his last words, an exclamation uttered in defense – a plead, a threat, whatever – just useless, meaningless and sad. Simon didn’t need people to like him. His connections to humans usually only lasted from a few minutes to a day or two max before their lives dissolved in his mouth. Still he had to admit that it was nice when they welcomed him, took him in with a smile, oblivious to their fate. The boy underneath him though had a very clear idea of what was to come and didn’t seem to appreciate the prospect of losing his life to him one little bit. Still, his pleas – no matter how sweet the mouth that formed them – were uttered in vain. Simon had never let a prey escape ever since he had become a creature of the night, and he would not start with this one. Especially not this one! Simon drew closer to lay his mouth on him when he suddenly was repulsed by a stinging sensation very close to his jaw that made his teeth ache and his ears ring in a very unpleasant way. Something was wrong.
What the fuck is this?
With a rough hand he pulled back the collar of the boy’s jacket where the irritation arose from and quickly found the reason for his repulsion. A little silver cross on a necklace was flashing up at him, delicately decorating the hunter’s neckline and radiating a highly disturbing aura. The vampire flinched and hissed in dismay at the discovery. The silver wasn’t big enough to harm him, but it was having an impressive effect for such a little piece of jewelery – and it definitely spoiled his appetite. Quickly he grabbed the thin chain, ripped it from the boy’s neck with a jerk and cast it into the darkness. The eyes of the boy followed it as the charm drew a long arch through the air and disappeared in the night.
Sorry handsome, but I’m not gonna be suck-blocked by a cold piece of metal.
When Simon finally got to put his lips down on the now flawless neck, the skin of the hunter’s throat felt so much softer than he had imagined from that masc smell of him. It felt like pure silk against his mouth and he stuck out the tip of his tongue to lick it, to find the pulse point that was crying out to him to break it, to lift the strain off the pumping veins and spill the life out of the boy’s throat. A convulsion ran through the body beneath him when the vampire’s teeth touched down and split the delicate skin. With a jolt Simon latched onto the leaking spot to let the hot liquid fill his mouth, and a muffled groan sounded from his chest at the extraordinary taste of the hunter. While the scent had carried a hint of his flavor all along, the actual taste of him on his tongue almost made Simon swoon. He felt his groin twitch as he drank, swallowing gulp after hot gulp from the body that tensed in a short struggle but soon started to soften under his firm grip. A whimper escaped the hunter’s lips that almost sounded like a sigh of relief. A fine spark of disappointment shot through Simon’s chest at the discovery, that the man that had felt so strong only a moment ago, who had fought a Scorcher basically with his bare hands, was giving in to his fate just like that, was letting himself fall without any resistance, even though his mind was clear. But the heavenly taste of his lifeblood made up for the lack of fight. Simon felt like he had tasted every wine of the world, had tried every type of blood, all pleasures of the flesh in his long and dark life. But nothing had ever compared to the flavor of the drink he was savoring on the dirty ground of that shady underpass while the wetness of the concrete was seeping through the fabric of his pants as he kept kneeling over the man, bleeding him dry with strong sucks. Simon was delirious. The warm blood in his circuit made him dizzy and he moaned against the hunter’s neck, sucking and licking at the little holes in his skin until there was no more juice to gather on his eager tongue. It wasn’t until then, when the spill had eased and his tongue run dry that he realized, he had taken the boy all in one go. That he had missed the opportunity to play, to watch his face turn pale, to see life seeping from his beautiful features, to bid him farewell like he deserved it.
NO, dammit!
Simon pulled back, appalled, a bolt of regret piercing his chest. A cold claw reached for his throat that had been blessed with the most delicious drink since forever just a minute ago, when he realized it was too late. That he had been too eager, too voracious, that humans were so fucking fragile – and now his life was gone, had ascended from this lean body and disappeared to wherever their souls went, and he hadn’t even noticed. With a frustrate frown the vampire reached out his hand, cupped the pale face in his chill palm and gave it a tender stroke. At the trembling touch a long lost feeling of sadness overcame him, and the well known emptiness replaced the joy of the past minutes with its hollow yearning, ate it up and left nothing but sore pain. Like it always did. Only this time it was heavier, piercing, desperate – overwhelming. A heavy breath built up in his lungs as he searched the handsome face for traits of life but there were none, and his gasp turned into a sob that fled his throat before he could check it.
What in the name of hell itself?
How was he being emotional over a dead human? A nobody. A meal. In a rush, Simon scrambled to his feet. He needed to get away. Whatever was happening, it was wrong and it was disturbing down to the bone. He would not go there. He COULD not go there. It was simply impossible that he was hit by that vice, that he should be reduced to – emotions! No matter how much he had silently been searching for the feel, searching for life to reach out for him in any other way but to dissolve in his hands. But he certainly hadn’t wanted THIS!
Back in his apartment Simon sat at the counter of his kitchen and stared out of the big panorama window, down at the city wrapped in black with its little spots of light and the rush of cars in the streets. He couldn’t steer his thoughts clear from the white haired boy who had lost his life in his arms, who had tasted like nothing he had ever known and he had wasted him – killed him – in his frenzy without a second thought. Why did it hurt that he was gone? How was that even possible? What fucking right did he have? Simon sat sulking, heavy head propped up on his hand that was still slightly sizzling with the touch of the guy’s silver cross, while he was trying to figure out what the hell had happened until dawn set in and the automatic shutters on his windows activated, closed off his view and left him and his revolving thoughts in utter darkness.
Oblivious to the fact that in an obscure underpass at the other end of the city a pair of caramel eyes blinked open.