Oca 29

Dark Paths Ch. 05

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© Sadie Rose Bermingham & Bellora Quinn 2007/8


“Here we are on chapter 5 already! We decided this week that our characters were pretty exhausted from all the sexual shenanigans so we’ve given them a little rest as this story is supposed to have a plot as well as lots of hot boysex! There is some slightly gratuitous (but very satisfying) violence in this chapter and a little non-con activity as well, so if that kind of thing makes you grind your teeth, look away towards the latter part please.

“Thanks again for all the kind comments and nice votes thus far. Hope you enjoy this latest instalment. The usual terms and conditions naturally apply. Please don’t copy or redistribute our work in any way shape or form without asking our permission first. We don’t often bite but when we do it bloody hurts!”

For non-British people and the uninitiated, “Gardener’s World” is a long-running BBC horticultural TV show, beloved of British pensioners (and my husband!)


Chavez did end up making Xav dinner, he even spoiled him a bit and made just what he wanted. The next morning when Xavier slid under Rayne’s duvet they fucked like bunnies for two whole hours before Rayne finally tapped into those sensitive bite marks that just refused to heal and drank his promised breakfast in bed.

Over the next few days a routine developed. Xavier went to Rayne’s room in the morning, not too early because they were usually up late the night before. They would tumble across the sheets in a passionate tangle that invariably ended with Rayne taking his blood. Then Rayne kissed him and went about his day, sometimes going out, sometimes just disappearing into the expansive, sprawling house, usually in company with PJ.

Xavier was left to do as he pleased, watch TV, play video games, swim in the pool, and when he got bored with all that he’d find Chavez or Clay, or both, to talk to, tease, and play with. A few times he’d sat talking with PJ too. They all seemed to like him well enough. Chavez seemed to think he was amusing and whenever they were together there was generally a lot of joking around and laughing. Clay actually seemed to like talking to him and always looked pleasantly surprised that Xav didn’t just parrot back stupid shit he’d picked up from the TV, but actually had his own opinions. PJ just seemed pleased whenever Xav cuddled up to him.

At some point Rayne would come and find Xavier, either in the room he was using or somewhere else in the house, and they’d end up wrapped around each other again, whether the Vampire wanted his body or his blood or both. Xavier didn’t have to coax Rayne to bite him anymore (whether by accident or design). Rayne was altogether more relaxed about it, though he voiced concerned that the marks he had left did not ever go away entirely. He tried biting Xavier at the crook of his elbow instead, and those marks lingered too.

The really strange thing was that Xavier started to crave Rayne’s bite almost as much as his body. He had never been a slut for pain before, and the bites did hurt, but it was such a fucking turn on. His body reacted if he even touched the marks on his neck. When Rayne bit him it got him so hard it made him dizzy. If he was already close to orgasm it would send him soaring over.

So the bites were not really an issue. Somewhere in all of this craziness Xavier just accepted that Rayne was the real deal. He didn’t ask a lot of questions and Rayne didn’t offer too much information of his own accord, but it wasn’t really necessary. It was something about the blood; every time Rayne drank from him there was an electric connection, mostly one way, but Xavier also picked up odd bits and pieces from Rayne. Enough to feel traces of his hunger, his need. Enough to know what he was, though he couldn’t have explained verbally to someone else, nor would he have tried to. It would just have sounded crazy.

It was crazy, the whole damn thing, but Xavier simply didn’t care. There were no illusions between them, both were a little too jaded for that. Rayne was using him quite shamelessly and Xavier let him and just enjoyed the ride. It was like an unspoken but well-understood agreement between two like-minded creatures. Though it did sort of prickle Xavier that other than for the slaking his lust or his thirst Rayne pretty much ignored him the rest of the time.

Rayne was appreciative enough of Xav’s pliant, naked body in his bed and a hot, willing meal when he needed it, and Xavier’s insatiable sexual appetite was being kept well-sated, but when they weren’t fucking like a pair of wild animals Rayne, to all intents, avoided him. It might not have been so bad if he wasn’t the only one that noticed. Xav could not even mention Rayne’s name in front of anyone in the house without getting a sympathetic look and skittering avoidance of the subject, like he was some love struck calf or something. It was frustrating as hell, because that poker oyna was not how he saw it. Xavier had been here before. He knew exactly what the score was, and exactly what would happen when it was time for Rayne to pack up and leave. The singer was thoroughly unsentimental. He had never given the slightest hint in his words or behaviour that what they had was anything more than an extended fling.

Right now, Xav just wanted to make the most of that.


Rayne had been lurking for most of the afternoon in PJ’s office, which was more of a chill-out room than a workstation these days, although it was equipped with a laptop and enough audio-visual hardware to give Bill Gates a three-day hard-on. It also had an ensuite sauna and massage room, which the singer enjoyed. Rayne rarely felt warm, unless he was feeding or making out, sharing another person’s heat and energy. The sauna helped in that respect. And it was good for his skin. The vigorous rub down that he got each afternoon from Paddy’s skilful Danish masseur loosened muscles that he hadn’t even known existed. If he had been out during the day to one of the studios, or doing a photoshoot, he liked to relax in here afterwards. Never the most sociable of creatures, Rayne found the media merry-go-round tiresome of late. It would be good to go back to England and retreat into the anonymity he was trying to create for himself there, but in the meantime PJ’s place was a sanctuary for him.

Whenever the thought of going home crossed his mind he was nagged by the memory of that conversation with Cole Lagrado. The Vampire Master had not been in touch since their testy exchange at the recording studio but Rayne could not get the Elder’s veiled threats out of his mind. He did not worry so much for himself but the idea that Lagrado might harm his friends was an irritant he could have done without. On the afternoon before he was scheduled to fly back to London, Rayne and PJ were relaxing in the steam room as usual, enjoying the companionable silence and the cleansing heat, when the older man brought up another thorny subject.

“When are you gonna tell the kid?” he asked gruffly.

“Tell him what?” Rayne tilted his head back to look at Paddy, lounging on the adjacent bench.

“You know, what! When are you gonna tell him that you’re going home?” PJ wanted to know.

For a moment Rayne looked discomfited. He lay back then and closed his eyes. “I’ll tell him tonight.”

“And what then?” his friend persisted. “What am I supposed to do with him once you’ve gone?”

“You’re not his minder. If you want him to go home, tell him.” Rayne sounded irritable and PJ knew that he didn’t want to think about the matter. Which was why he carried on pushing it.

“You’re just gonna dump him? No explanation?”

“He knows the score, he’s not a child!” the singer exhaled, turning sinuously to lie on his stomach on the towel, glaring back at the other man. “He knows what I am. I didn’t have to tell him, he just understood. He’ll understand this too.”

“He’s hooked on you,” PJ said observantly. “Like a drug. He just keeps coming back for more. You always told me that you didn’t go to the same feeders day-in day-out because they can get hooked. What was different about him?”

“I figured he could take it,” Rayne said bluntly. “There’s something about him, Paddy. I can’t put my finger on it, but he is different.”

“But you’re still gonna walk out on him?” The big fellow shook his head grimly. It wasn’t really a question. He knew Rayne too well by now. In the intervening years since the shy, defensive twenty-year old had first run out on him back in France, the paths of PJ McNamara and Rayne Wylde just kept crossing. The first time it happened it had been a shock for both of them, but now Rayne was no longer trying to hide from him. It still worried the older man that he was always alone though. Paddy had hoped that by now Rayne would be strong enough to let down his barriers and allow someone to get closer.

“I’m not his wife. I’m not his fucking keeper,” Rayne snapped, breaking into his reflections. “For Christ’s sake, Paddy. I can’t adopt them all, I’d need a warehouse! He might pine a bit but he’ll get over me.”

PJ gave him a look that said otherwise. Rayne scowled and buried his head in his folded arms.

“Stop that! He’s not in love with me and I’m not taking him with me, that’s final!”

When the older man still said nothing Rayne lifted his head wearily and looked into those shrewd, steely blue eyes. The look acknowledged their bond, a trust that Rayne Wylde put in few people.

“Will you keep an eye on him for me?” he asked at last, yielding to the non-verbal accusation of negligence. “Not adopt him, but… just make sure he’s okay once I’ve gone.”

PJ McNamara sighed and rolled his eyes.

“Sure I will. You think I could turf him out after the way you’ve been with him since you brought him home? He doesn’t deserve canlı poker oyna that!”

“I owe you,” Rayne said quietly.

“You always have done. I look forward to the day when you finally pay me back for all the favours I’ve done you over the years. That will be one mighty fine day!” Paddy chuckled sadly. He knew that it would never come, and in his heart he had no desire for payback. He only wanted to see his boys well and happy. Rayne was more sorted now than he had been twenty years ago, back when they first met, but PJ was not certain that he was happy. He wondered if anyone could ever make Rayne feel that emotion long-term.

“C’mere,” Rayne murmured suggestively, rising to his knees and leaning forward to plant a kiss on the older fellow’s lips. “I know what I can do for you…”

They did not need the masseur’s attentions that afternoon. They were far too busy for that.


Xavier sat on the floor, knees bent back and ass between his ankles in what looked like a thoroughly uncomfortable position though it didn’t bother him at all. He was stuffing the scattered clothes he’d picked up from around the room into his backpack. He took a last look around, making sure he’d got everything. For the first time since he’d been using this room everything was picked up and tidy.

It felt sort of wrong to just leave like this. Like he was sneaking out with the silverware or something. It was just… he didn’t do well with goodbyes. And he knew Rayne was leaving. He felt it in his blood.

Clay and PJ had hinted to him, kind of heavy-handedly, that he could stay on. Which was nice of them, but sooner or later they were going to get tired of mothering him. He’d rather go now, on his own terms. He thought about leaving a note, at least, but what was he going to put in it? “Thanks for a lovely time. Safe trip.” Right! There was nothing he could think of to write that wouldn’t sound cheesy or laughable. Still, he couldn’t shake the wrong feeling at just going off without even saying goodbye to anyone.

Ah well, they’d probably be relieved not to have to go through any awkwardness. He knew Rayne would be.

Xav timed his exit perfectly for a moment when he knew no one would be around to see him slip out. There was a cab waiting for him down the street, just as he’d instructed.

The little flea-bag rat-trap he was staying in was all the more shabby and depressing with the contrast of PJ’s sumptuous home behind him. Xavier dropped his bag on the floor and flopped back on the bed. Maybe he should have said goodbye. Something, at least. Ah well, what’s done is done.

He rolled over on his side and curled up. He could hear the people in the room next to his arguing; the steady hum of traffic on the street; a wailing siren in the distance. He lay there for a while, listening to it all, then sat up with a disgusted snort. It was still early, just about dinner-time. Clay might have gone up to look for him by now, since he never missed a meal. Or maybe Ray would have, since he didn’t like to go hungry either.

Xavier shook himself angrily. He wasn’t going to sit here and think about them – think about Rayne leaving – and feel sorry for himself.

He got up and took a shower, blow dried his hair and tamed his curls into something a little more club-worthy. His fingers worked the back of his mane into messy spikes, the smoothed forelock falling to one side of his face. He took the time to line his eyes, paint his nails and put a bit of gloss on his lips, then got dressed. Carefully he pulled on a pair of jeans that clung to his hips like they were trying to drag him to his knees, a clingy tee shirt and red and black striped arm warmers. Looking through his bag for anything else that might suit he pulled out a long, thin scarf of some silky material that had runners of metallic thread all through it. He’d stuffed it blindly into his bag with a bundle of other stuff when he’d been getting ready to leave PJ’s.

For a moment his heart skipped a beat. It was Rayne’s, or had been. He wasn’t sure if the singer had given it to him, or loaned it, or it had just found its way into his bag. Xav had spent a few hours tied up with it one torrid afternoon when Rayne had discovered how hot being restrained got him. He wound the scarf once around his neck and went out. The fabric lay feather-light over the bite marks on his neck; unexpectedly stimulating.

He hit three different clubs before he started having fun. A half dozen Screwdrivers and several shots were helping things along. Xav lost himself in the mass of writhing bodies, moving to the music. Hot sweaty torsos pressed into him, moving with him for a little while until he gyrated on. He was popular onstage or off. The way he moved drew attention like personal gravity. A heavy beat pounded at him. The guy in front of him slid closer, moving his thigh between Xavier’s legs as they danced and cupping his ass to draw him closer yet. He ground internet casino his erection again the guy’s leg, slid long hands around his neck and kissed him just because he was cute. Then he moved on. The guy tried to not let him get away but the crowd soon swallowed him up.

Hands slid over Xavier from behind, around his hips and under the edge of his shirt, cool fingers fanning over his taut belly. For a second he was sure that cool touch belonged to Rayne. He turned into the embrace, fully expecting jewel green eyes to be looking back hungrily at him.

The eyes weren’t green, they were a dark velvety brown, the body much taller and broader than Rayne’s. Those cool hands were on his back now, pulling him in tight. The smile the guy gave him made his heart pound; a flash of sharp canines there for just a moment. He was being led towards the edge of the crowd. Xav wasn’t sure why he followed but he couldn’t seem to break away.

It seemed like one moment he was dancing in a sea of hormonally charged bodies in the club and the next he was in the parking lot, being hauled into the back of a sleek car. He wasn’t smashed, just a little drunk; not sure how he lost time like that. The car pulled away almost instantly.

The guy with the dark-chocolate eyes and the sharp, feral smile was cupping his chin with one hand, like he might kiss him, but he didn’t. It was more like he was inspecting him.

“You belong to Wylde?” he asked, though it was one of those questions that wasn’t really a question.

“Belong to?” Xavier laughed. “I don’t belong to anyone.”

The chuckle that rolled from the stranger’s throat was coolly mocking.

“I don’t make mistakes. You are the whore that’s been warming his bed.”

Xavier grabbed the hand holding him by the bony wrist and pulled out of his grasp. He got the distinct impression that the guy let him do it.

“I’m not a whore either. Lemme the fuck out of this car.”

That earned him another cool chuckle and Xavier suddenly felt the little hairs on the back of his neck stand on end. Something wasn’t right.

The guy pulled on the end of the scarf, tightening it. Xavier couldn’t help the little gasp and the flood of heat that made his dick hard as the fabric rubbed against the bite. His captor kept the pressure on, just this side of cutting off his air, while he moved his other hand to Xavier’s throat. He ran a thumb over the twin marks on Xavier’s neck and grinned as his quarry tried not to shiver and moan in response.

“You have been tasted, no need to pretend.”

Warning bells were going off like crazy in Xavier’s head. He could not figure out why. So far the guy was creepy but hadn’t done anything bad. He’d never talked with Rayne about keeping the vampire thing to himself. There didn’t seem to be a need to talk about it. For one, it was nobody’s business, for another most people would have just laughed if Xav went around claiming he’d had a sexy tryst with a Brit vampire. Still, something told him it would be prudent to play dumb.

“Yeah, so what? You obviously paid a dentist to cap your teeth too. Everybody’s got their kinks. Not against the law to pretend you’re Count Dracula.”

“Tch, such lies. You know what Wylde is. The question remains, what else might you know?”

Yeah, this didn’t sound too good. Panic gripped Xavier. He leaned toward the front seat and yelled at the driver; “Stop the fucking car, now!”

The driver didn’t flinch, didn’t even acknowledge him at all, like he was deaf. The guy in the back with him reached over and grabbed Xavier’s shoulder. Xav lunged for the door handle and the fingers on his shoulder tightened painfully and yanked him back. Xavier turned, swinging a blow at him wildly, which was easily deflected. His captor hit him then; drew back his hand to deliver what looked like a casual slap, like the kind of thing you’d see in a movie when someone got too hysterical. It felt like he got hit with a brick. His head snapped back hard enough to crack against the window. Xavier saw stars for a couple of seconds.

“Do not struggle. You will not be hurt, so long as you stay calm. Mr. Lagrado would simply like to ask you a few questions and then you will be released, unharmed.”

Xavier knew bullshit when he heard it. He struggled, hands fumbling for the door-catch again. That radar deep inside, the primal instinctual part of his soul that thousands of years of evolution had built and a scant few hundred years of science and reasoning had not been able to erase was screaming for him to escape; to do what ever he needed to get away.

Fingers wrapped in his hair and yanked his head back. He was pressed into the seat. The face hanging over him was something out of a nightmare, twisted into a rictus grin of horror like some medieval demon. The Vampire hissed, thin lines of saliva stretching down from his fangs and Xavier screamed. Terror was coursing through him. The hand on his throat squeezed, cutting off his air and his scream like a thrown switch. That unyielding hand came down again and this time the stars were blotted out by sudden darkness and he cascaded down into still, quiet unconsciousness.

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