Rating: NC17
Spoilers: None
Author: Vasalysa, with many undying thanks to Geek.
E-mail: cmbower@ennorath.net Comments are always welcome
Chapter Sixteen
By dinner, McQueen felt a sense of accomplishment. The afternoon run had left him pleasantly tired, his body only slightly achy. Twenty laps in the Olympic sized pool followed by a hot bath and some light reading had left him quite relaxed and ready for the evening. He dressed in a nice navy blue pullover shirt and black trousers.
When Silver failed to show up at dinner, some of McQueen's good mood evaporated, but he consoled himself knowing he'd see her later.
People were getting ready to disperse after eating when Charles caught McQueen's eye. "TC, would you and the members of the 58th please wait a moment?"
McQueen nodded and settled back in his seat, picking up his coffee. Studying Charles, he didn't think it was bad news
"TC, the tailors called to say they will be here at eleven tomorrow for a fitting. All of you will need to be here."
"We'll be here." McQueen frowned as he thought of the missing squad members. "But I don't know about the three that left. I could-"
Charles smiled and raised a hand. "Not to worry. It has been taken care of. We didn't think that everyone would be staying here."
When Charles didn't elaborate, McQueen nodded, resigned to the fact the older man had his own plans. "Anything else?"
"May I speak with you in private for a moment, TC?" Charles rested his hand on the chair beside McQueen.
"We'll meet you at the library, sir." Wang gestured for Hawkes to leave.
Charles said, "Will you come to my study?"
"Yes, sir."
The study impressed McQueen, with the large oak desk, with its organized clutter, the many filled bookshelves, the books looking well worn, and the several comfortable chairs. Instead of sitting behind the desk, Charles gestured to McQueen to sit down by a window looking out on a flower garden and sat beside him.
"Son, I'm proud that you are joining our family. You have all the qualities I'd have chosen for my daughter's consort. I like you. I know that being an Invitro has shaped you somewhat." He smiled sadly as McQueen stiffened. "You forget, young man, that I have memories of other lives,and I know we've met before and will do so again."
"That part still unsettles me." McQueen allowed himself to relax back into the chair.
"It does most people, including us. A lot of us refuse to delve into our memories, content to live this life without influence from previous lives. But I, in addition to being a medical doctor, am also a historian for my people. I am required to go through memories available to me." Charles sighed heavily. "I've know you, Ruth, Lysa, Griffin and many others before. The basic personality doesn't change, though it is shaped and influenced by the life they live. But the soul remains the same."
McQueen remained quiet, aware that Charles was trying to find the right words to express something to him.
"Ruth has always been a compassionate soul, often to her sorrow. Griffon stubborn and bull-headed. Lysa... Lysa is a fighter, relentless, capable of caring and giving, yet always searching for her love, and you," Charles faced McQueen squarely. "And you, the difficult one, the weed."
The older man chuckled wickedly at McQueen's hastily concealed look of distaste. "Son, that's a compliment."
"How?"
"You've always shown up in areas of adversity. As if being different from the norm was what you sought. It makes sense that you would end up an Invitro in this life. At least, you weren't a Chig." Charles shook his head. "A weed is not something to be despised, son. It should be admired, even if you are rooting it out of your garden. Like the weed, you are tenacious, strong, able to survive where others die, and complex. You hide a lot beneath the surface, McQueen."
McQueen nodded tightly.
"I'm not trying to offend you, McQueen."
"I know, sir. I've just never thought of a weed in that light before."
"Most people don't." Charles leaned back in his chair. "Part of my job as head of this clan is to help them. Overall, I think you are exceptionally well-balanced, especially given your history." He waved a placating hand at the stiffening McQueen. "Relax. Most of your life is public record. I did not pry into anything sealed nor did I ask for any of it through other channels. But I do have copies of all your medical files, up to and including last week. After all, I do have a vested interest in your well being, besides your having become my son-in-law. I like to make sure that my work does not have problems." A smile stole over Charles' face. "Keeping tabs on your health allows me the comfort that all is well."
"That Lysa isn't worrying herself over me."
"Or you over her."
McQueen nodded. "You think I need help of some sort."
"I just want you to remember something, McQueen. You are not alone, not any more. You have a family outside the Marine Corps that will give you any help you might ever need. Hakur keep my daughter safe, but if something were to happen to her this very minute, we would still consider you a part of the family. And family is very important to us. We do not leave anyone out in the cold. There would always be a candle in the window for you."
McQueen felt tears in his eyes at the thought that these people he barely knew would be willing to take him in, no matter the circumstances. He knew without asking that Charles would stand by him against all odds. To these people, family was binding and he was now a member of the family. "I understand, sir."
"I'm glad you do, young man. Now, just because we're family doesn't mean we won't have differences of opinion. Sometimes violent ones. Fiery tempers run in this family. Don't ever let it get in the way. Lysa has her mother's temper. Most of the time, just get out of range for a while and let her cool down. You do not want to get caught in the blast, especially if it's aimed at you. I still remember the time I told Lysa she was not going into the military."
McQueen could not help the chuckle that escaped.
"Funny now. It wasn't at the time." Charles shook his head. "It was the latest in a set of arguments between us. We both lost it, but I hadn't realized how far I had pushed her on it. A flower pot sailing past my head told me. I beat an extremely hasty retreat. She trashed over twenty flower pots before her temper cooled enough that any one could get close to her. A small price to pay in the long run. Even at fourteen, Lysa knew her mind."
"She is strong willed."
"Definitely. Just like her mother. So, if you see her about to go ballistic, discretion is definitely the order of the day." Charles stroked the arm of his chair absently.
"I think I've seen her lose her temper three times. Only once would I have considered ducking for cover." McQueen remembered the look in her eyes when she realized what Griffon had done to him.
"Most of the time you have to really push Lysa before she loses her temper. She knows how dangerous it can be if she really loses it so she's learned to choke it down. She becomes extremely calm and controlled. Then she'll work it out of her system, usually in the gym. That is the mild form of her temper. The one most often seen." Charles grimaced. "I suppose you should know about the third state of her temper. I refer to it as the frozen temper. That Lysa gets from her grandmother. Ruth has never had that version. It is ten times worse. When Lysa goes cold, she's completely bypassed the hot temper. She becomes ice and will not melt until the situation has been resolved. It would be all too easy for her to kill in that state. So far she hasn't, at least Griffin says she hasn't."
McQueen heard the slight note of hopefulness in the last statement. "As far as I know, she hasn't." To himself, McQueen knew he had seen the beginnings of the frozen temper. He had seen it crystallize in her eyes when he had told her who had brutalized him on board the 'Toga. The ice had not thawed until after she had forced Danson to confess and she had coldly passed judgment on the man with her suggestion to Ross.
"I thought you should know these things."
"Yes, sir. Thank you."
"As a friendlier warning. I suspect you'll be getting a visit from her brothers. You are after all marrying their sister."
"She doesn't need protection, sir."
"We know that, and they know that, but that doesn't change the fact that they still look out for her." Charles shook his head ruefully. "Be that as it may, I decided to warn you. It's nothing personal on their part."
"I understand."
Charles stood up. "I've kept you long enough. You had plans for this evening. I'll let you get back to them."
Standing up, McQueen said, "I appreciate the talk, sir. I'll remember what you've said."
"Good."
Shutting the study's wooden door behind him, McQueen headed for the library, thinking over Charles' comments. He'd known Silver had a temper, but he hadn't considered the full implications. Nor had he anticipated that her brothers would feel compelled to waylay him. He almost smiled at the thought. Lysa was probably better able to take care of herself than any of them and they were still going into protective mode.
Wang and Hawkes were waiting in the hall outside the library.
"Is anything wrong, Colonel?"
"No, Hawkes. He just wanted to talk." When Hawkes gave him a disbelieving look, McQueen smiled. "Wait until you find a girl you want to marry, Hawkes. You'll understand then."
"One of those talks." Wang grinned. "Don't worry, Hawkes. It's a variant on a father-son talk. I'll explain it later."
Hawkes nodded, but McQueen could see Hawkes remembering their own talk on the Bacchus.
"Gayle said she would meet us over here." Wang started down the hall, walking slowly but steadily.
In a low voice, McQueen reassured Hawkes. "Nothing happened, Hawkes. It was just a talk."
"Yes, sir." Hawkes' voice was just as low.
Four doors down on the left, Wang knocked.
The door opened and Gayle smiled at the three men. "Come on in."
McQueen recognized two of the others in the room. Roger sat, legs stretched out before him in a comfortable padded chair. To his left on a settee sat Peter and a brunette that McQueen surmised was Cheryle, his wife.
"Sit down wherever you'd be comfortable." Grace sat on the arm of Roger's chair, stroking his hair. She noted McQueen's speculative glance. "Roger and I are friends, McQueen. Sometimes I just need the physical support of touch. It's just the way we are."
Taking the padded chair to Roger's right, McQueen nodded. He knew that for this discussion to be meaningful, he would have to overcome his own privacy barriers. An old saying came to mind, 'Damn the torpedoes. Full speed ahead.' Looking at Grace, McQueen said, "I've noticed. Lysa loves to touch me when we're in private."
"You are a very private person, McQueen. We can all see that and I know this will be difficult for you to do." Roger met McQueen's gaze. "We will try to help you through this. Ok?"
"Yes. I appreciate it."
"By the way, McQueen, Hawkes, the young lady beside Peter is Cheryle, his wife. She arrived about fifteen minutes ago."
"Hello." Cheryle gave the two men a warm smile. "I've heard a lot about you. Some of it from Paul and Cassie."
"Don't believe everything you hear." McQueen gave her a brief smile.
Roger turned to the couch where Wang and Hawkes had sat down to McQueen's right. "Now, you two. What do you know about vampires?"
"Blood and sex," said Hawkes.
Roger chuckled. "Succinct and accurate as far as it goes. Do you know any history?"
Hawkes shook his head.
"They arrived here during the time of Charlemagne," Wang said, leaning on his cane. "They scattered throughout Europe, took on human form. Blended in."
Peter nodded. "Good. Anything before that?"
"I just know that they came from space somewhere." Wang shrugged.
The door opened. McQueen turned with the others to see who entered. The breath caught in his throat at the sight of Patrick dressed in a cream colored pullover shirt and worn blue jeans. "I thought you might need the vampire perspective as well," Patrick said quietly.
"Come in, Patrick." Gayle held out her hand. "You are welcome, as always."
"Thank you." Patrick held the door open. "There are some others out here, though, who'd like to listen in."
Vansen, West and Damphousse ducked under Patrick's arm.
"Welcome. Find yourself seats." Gayle greeted the three with a warm smile as Patrick shut the door.
'Phousse went straight to where Wang sat and perched beside him on the arm of the couch. Both Vansen and West took seats on the remaining couch.
With easy grace, Patrick moved to the center of the room and sat cross-legged on the floor facing McQueen, Wang, and Hawkes. "You were talking history, I believe."
"Yes. Just trying to find out how much they know." Peter leaned forward and rubbed his brother's shoulder. "Are you up to this?"
"Yes."
Hawkes leaned forward. "So, if vampires came from the stars, where did they come from? Where are their ships?"
"To answer the second question first," Patrick turned to Hawkes, "the ships are somewhere at the bottom of the Atlantic off the French coast. Ever since the technology has been developed to explore underwater, we've been looking for them. As to where we came from, well, you can travel a long ways in ten thousand years. Somewhere on the other side of the galaxy. Exactly where, we don't know anymore. See, when we reached Earth, many of our ships were damaged. People were jettisoned in life-pods that were cannibalized after landing for metals. Unfortunately, the engineers and navigators stayed with the ships, trying to land them. None of them survived. We lost all their knowledge."
"Damaged? How were the ships damaged?" asked West.
Patrick sighed. "It's a sad part of our history. But you need to know it and understand it before you commit to joining us." He closed his eyes, took several deep breaths before opening his eyes again. A stillness settled over his features. When he spoke, his voice held a deeper timbre.
"In the beginning, there was a planet on the far side of the galaxy. Life developed and slithering through that life there was a parasite that lived by feeding on the life-force of the various creatures. At some point, it latched onto a roaming, four-footed predator. The relationship between the parasite and predator changed over time, becoming a symbiotic relationship. At this point, the first steps toward intelligence were taken by the altering of the genetic instructions of some of the predators. They changed further, becoming reliant on the first type of predator for survival. In exchange, the weakened type bore mixed young, mostly of the weaker variety, but enough of the stronger to enable the continuity of the species. The influence of the symbiote was still needed by the second type of predator but not to the degree that the first needed it. Both continued to evolve toward intelligence and bipedalism. The first predator became known as the Vrylosian, the second the Remal."
With a sigh, Patrick continued. "In time, they built a civilization. Through trial and error, they climbed and fell and climbed again. There were periods of war and slavery. Eventually, a Vrylosian and a Remal stood before the masses and spoke of a way to live in peace. It took years for the Way to be fully accepted, but it did. For twenty-five thousand years, the Way, the Covenant, has been life."
"What is this Covenant?" asked McQueen, remembering Jean talking about it.
"A Vrylosian and a Remal govern the Family. The Vrylosian is the Dalian, or ruler, and the Remal is the Hnom or High Priest. Together they rule the Family. The Remal and Vrylosian are intertwined beyond any real chance of separating.
"The Remal are not lesser creatures than ourselves. How can they be? They are our brothers," Patrick reached back to touch Peter's knee, "sisters, mothers, fathers, lovers, and friends. These cannot be lesser than ourselves. We love the Remal and they love us. We are a part of each other, two halves of the same creature. But the Vrylosian are driven by the symbiote whereas the Remal are not, at least not in the same way. A Remal who has never tasted the Blood, never lain with a Vrylosian, continues to live."
"What happened next?" Wang sat, his eyes glued on Patrick.
"We eventually made it to the stars and other systems. Only two systems nearby had life as advanced as ourselves. We made contact and brought them into our Family. We took the people who were not wanted by their races, the orphans and the outcasts, they were the ones we brought home and incorporated into the Family. They were loved and given affection which they didn't get from their own race. With us, they were given worth and value. For each race, a certain number of Vrylosian and Remal changed to match the race, to be able to truly incorporate them into the Family. One race, the Rreimmu, had also evolved from a four-footed beast, but they were descended from a herbivore turned omnivore. The other, the Lyumo, came from a scavenger and omnivore bipedal creature. It was the Lyumo who turned against us."
A pained sigh and Patrick resumed speaking. "The Lyumo had help in turning against us. The Dalian and the Shendalia, the heir, were in a space accident, which could never be proven to have been arranged. The Dalian died and the Shendalia, named Jartal, was badly injured and unable to feed in order to heal. The five surviving Remal had also been injured. The brother of the Dalian, Kilke, took power while the spacecraft was missing. When Jartal was finally found, the injuries had crippled him. He could not rule and his heir was too young to take his place. So Kilke stayed in power, supposedly as regent. The High Priest had to accept him, there was no one else."
Patrick closed his eyes for a brief moment. Sorrow tinged his voice as he continued. "If only there had been someone else to rule. At first, Kilke did everything right. He lulled the populace into accepting him. Even before they had, Kilke was already spiraling down the path of Darkness. His Remal sickened and died, hidden away. Many of the replacement Remal were never seen again, there was always a plausible story. Jartal's son died during a hunting trip, under odd circumstances. After nearly fifty years, the High Priest had proof of the evil of Kilke. Kilke had ceased to age. The so-called Regent had become a Dark One. Together Jartal and the High Priest, Tornin, worked to bring down Kilke, but they hadn't expected the reaction of the Lyumo to the outrages Kilke had wrought on their people. In fifty years, Kilke managed to destroy the little trust the Lyumo had in us. The Lyumo laid their plans carefully and spread throughout the three systems. Then on the appointed night, they rose and massacred billions. Some of the Lyumo who felt they had been well treated warned their Vrylosians. One such came to the home of Jartal and Tornin where they were making plans to expose Kilke. He told them to flee. Jartal couldn't. His duty lay in protecting the Vrylosians and Remal. Jartal roused the rest of his family. His mate stood beside him and he impressed into her unwilling mind the order to flee."
Fierce resolve filled Patrick's face and McQueen had the feeling that the echo of Jartal looked out of the green eyes. Patrick's voice deepened. "Go, beloved. Flee. Take all our people you can find. We have been betrayed by Kilke the Dark and the Lyumo. Flee to the shipyards and take all of the Children that you can find. Into the darkest night you must go. Somewhere in the depths of space may our people once again live in peace."
Patrick sobbed once softly before continuing in a voice that held unshed tears. "His mate cried, 'I cannot go!' Jartal kissed her passionately before shoving her toward his most trusted Remal. 'Go, beloved. You are named for the Mother and you must be the hope of our people.' Beside him, Tornin had summoned his only family. About his eldest daughter's neck Tornin placed the symbol of the High Priest. Then he took from the cellar where it had been placed to keep it out of Kilke's hands the satchel containing the artifacts of the Dalian. They were placed into his daughter's care and she was bid to go with the Dalian's family. As Jalke finally fled, she remained linked with her love. Under the guidance of the Remal, she was taken to safety, but what she saw through Jartal's eyes became a part of every Vrylosian and Remal later when she shared it. It resides in the racial memory, so strong is it.
"Jartal, with the aid of Tornin, had many close calls as they struggled to reach Kilke before the Lyumo. During their struggle, seventy spaceships fled the planet. Fifteen more came from the Rreimmu system where the Family had been warned in time by loyal Lyumo. Four left the home world of the Lyumo. One was destroyed minutes later as it diverted a Lyumo destroyer." Pride and sorrow warred in Patrick's voice.
"Jartal and Tornin reached the Citadel. Fighting raged about it for the Guard whose duty it was to protect the Dalian had been alerted and they fought the Lyumo troops. The dead and dying filled the inner ways as Jartal and Tornin used secret means to enter the Citadel. These passages they sealed behind them. They found Kilke in his chambers, having drained the life of four Remal. Kilke was strong, full of life-force and ready to kill. Despite his crippled body, Jartal was determined to destroy Kilke. The fight that followed was bloody and vicious. Tornin was forced to wait until Jartal had inflicted enough injuries on Kilke before he could call upon Hakur and drew strength from the Heart. Kilke was knocked unconscious. Tornin drew more energy from the Heart and channeled it into Jartal's dying body and gave up a goodly portion of his own life-force. When Jartal could at last rise to lean against the High Priest, they made their way to the uppermost pinnacle of the Citadel, a thousand feet up."
His gaze trapped in a distance past, Patrick stared past McQueen, seeing the destruction of his race's home world. "At their feet, the city lay in flames. They could see the fighting still going on and knew all three worlds were engulfed in flame and hatred. Sorrowing, they raised their arms to the sky and called upon Hakur and Jalke. Strengthened, they summoned the Heart of the Home. The full powers of the Shendalia and some of the Dalian resided in Jartal. Kilke had never been fully initiated into either role. He had taken the name but could not take the power. Then they reached out to the Hearts of the other two Homes. Three solar systems were to become engulfed in fire and cease to be."
"Are you saying they caused the suns to go nova?" Wang stared fascinated.
"Yes." Tears started down Patrick's cheeks.
"But why?"
"To contain the hatred and death. The only trace of the three civilizations would be the few survivors that fled."
"That's genocide!" Hawkes burst out.
Patrick's tear streaked face turned to Hawkes. "In response to the genocide being perpetrated on their own race. I do not deny the charge. The Rreimmu were ever a peaceful race. Doing violence to another sentient was a concept they had never developed. They had embraced the Family without reservation. When Jartal reached out to the Heart of the Rreimmu Home, he felt few Rreimmu lives to answer his call. Those few that still lived passed on the horror of their world being bombarded from space. Their world was dying. It pained Jartel to cause the death of even one life, or even the deaths of those who had never accepted the Family. But Jartal welcomed Hakur, bidding him to take the lives of the three systems. Jartal's wife knew no more of him from that point on. On the ships' view screens, the Family watched as the three suns went nova."
"You don't make suns go nova merely by willing it!" 'Phousse said in disbelief.
"The knowledge of how he did it is lost to us. All we have left is the Ballad of Leave Taking and it says that Jartal ordered the Heart of the Home to explode."
Peter leaned forward, catching Patrick as he slumped backwards, eyes closed, breathing hard. "Easy, Pat. Come on back. Leave it behind. Come back to us here."
Breathing steadied, Patrick reached up and patted his brother's supporting arm. "My thanks, brother. Despite the fact that it is ten thousand years in the past, Jartal and Jalke's emotions are so very strong." Pain remained in Patrick's voice and he started to shiver.
Cheryle slipped down onto the floor and wrapped her arms around Patrick. "Sh. It's all right. Just relax."
Stroking his brother's hair, Peter looked over at Wang and Hawkes. "That's our history in a nut shell. We traveled the galaxy, sometimes stopping at planets. There's life out there, lots of it. Problem is the Lyumo are determined to wipe us out. The closest analogy on Earth is the way the Jews were treated throughout the Middle Ages. Every time we found a place to stay for a while, to try and find a home, the Lyumo found us and turned the world against us. Only those who had already joined us, didn't turn. Though there are cases where parts of the Family sacrificed themselves by forcing the Remal to turn in the Vrylosian while the majority escaped again."
"They found you every time?"
Peter nodded at Vansen. "How we don't know. But find us they did, determined to exterminate us. We fled before the Lyumo."
"Why didn't you fight them? Destroy them?" demanded Hawkes.
"Could you destroy your child?" Peter waited until Hawkes shook his head. "See in a way, they are our children. We made them. We can't bring ourselves to destroy them. They may yet return to reason. So we run rather than harm them en masse. Oh, we fight them, but we've never tried to destroy them wholesale."
"But they haven't found you this time." Vansen spoke quietly.
"It's only a matter of time."
"Why aren't you building weapons to fight them?" West asked.
"We don't know how to build the weapons, the defenses, the ships that our people once had. The knowledge is lost. We have some idea of some of the underlying concepts. But it's only been in the last hundred years that technology has started along the right paths. We've tried to steer some of the research into the paths we need, but it takes a lot of money or influence to make it work world wide. We are still a small percentage of the population with a proportionate amount of influence. We know and understand the dangers, Hawkes, and we are doing what we can to lessen it. Humanity is our responsibility too. We have no where else to run. If the Lyumo find us, they will destroy humanity in the blind effort to destroy us."
"Like the AIs."
"Yes, West."
Hawkes turned his head, biting his lower lip. Chin still resting on his cane, Wang stared thoughtfully at Patrick and Peter. Wang took 'Phousse's hand in his before finally asking, "What about the undead part of the vampire legend? How much of that is true?"
"Those who tread the Dark Path can return from seeming death. That is where the bad vampire reputation stems from. The Dark Ones care not for ethics, morality, or rightness. They seek only their own pleasure. We abhor the vampire image even more than you do. It is the essence of the most evil of our kind, like Hitler is of humanity. We fight to destroy them. We cannot allow them to survive." Distaste colored Roger's voice.
"And Kilkie had walked that path?" McQueen asked.
"Regrettably, yes. The Dark Ones have fortunately been few and far between. On Earth, there have only been a handful. One surfaced late in the 20th century." Patrick finally stopped shivering and leaned against his brother's legs still in Cheryle's arms.
McQueen sighed softly. "I understand why we needed the history. It explains some of the secretiveness. But I think we need to get back on track. I've consented to being a vampire's consort and these two are thinking about becoming her Remal. We need more information about the actual relationship."
"Yes." Wang sat up straight. "Just what do the Remal get out of the relationship?"
"Let's see who should answer that?" Peter glanced to his right, at McQueen and then at his wife. "Cheryle?"
"Oh, right, give me the hard ones." She laughed and swatted Peter on the knee. "Rat."
"You're the only Remal who isn't born of the Family."
"Fine. I'll answer it, though I think McQueen could do it as well." She kissed Patrick's shoulder before answering. "The essence of the relationship between Remal and Vrylosian is that we share the Blood. There is much more to it than that. When we drink the Blood regularly from a Vrylosian, we gain strength and faster healing. When the Vrylosian drinks from you, it's beyond description. Take the most exquisite sexual encounter you've ever had and multiply it a thousand fold and you begin to realize the experience. It's not something you can explain easily. It's best experienced."
"Best experienced, eh?" Wang glanced at McQueen. "I take it, colonel, that you have experienced this?"
Reluctant to admit it even now, McQueen's answer ended up clipped. "Yes."
"Does it ruin you for regular sex?" Wang looked at the various Remal who all shook their heads, tightening his grip on 'Phousse's hand.
"No," said Gayle. "Both my husband and I were Remal. We thoroughly enjoyed sex with each other."
"Having sex with a vampire enhances your life, but does not diminish other relationships, if they are open-minded enough to share." Cheryle smiled, massaging Patrick's shoulders. "I started out as one of Patrick's Remal. Then I met Peter and fell in love. I care for Patrick. He is my brother-in-law and the center of my circle, but I go home to Peter, not Patrick. Where I enjoy a very satisfying sex life." Her love for Peter shone from her eyes. "Better, Patrick?"
"Yes. Thank you, Cheryle. Reliving the memories leaves my body tight as a drum. So much emotion." Patrick sighed gratefully as Cheryle shifted her hands to his neck. "A side effect of regular sharing of the Blood is an increased sex drive. Fortunately, your stamina increases as well."
"What else do the Remal gain in exchange for their life-force?" asked Wang.
"Better health. Once I started with Lysa, I never got sick." Gayle rubbed her arms. "No more colds or flus. Faster reflexes. Excellent for a pilot. Or a soldier. In addition, you gain more strength. After all, a vampire is strong."
McQueen nodded, remembering Lysa on the transport and the time she had picked him up in the briefing room. "Easily twice, maybe even three times as strong as an Invitro." He saw the incredulous look Hawkes gave him. "I'm not exaggerating, Hawkes. I know what Lysa was like when she wasn't feeding regularly. I can only imagine what she would be like at full strength. And don't forget, she pried open the pressure doors on the bridge."
"Yeah," breathed Hawkes. "I couldn't have done that."
"Definitely need you to tell me what's been going on." Wang punched Hawkes' arm. "You didn't tell me about this."
"Later, Paul." McQueen sat straight. "Let's finish this before getting started on that."
"Ok." Wang looked at Patrick. "Is there a way to experience this without sex?" From the expression on his face, he clearly didn't expect there to be.
Patrick lifted Cheryle's hands from his neck and turned to face Wang. "Yes."
"Oh." After a second, Wang asked, "How?"
"I merely drink from you. It won't be as strong as if we made love, but you'd get the idea." Patrick's eyes didn't stray from Wang's.
Licking his suddenly dry lips, Wang nodded. "Do it, please. I have to know before I decide."
Smoothly, Patrick rose to his feet. "Come here."
Wang rose, looking at 'Phousse who nodded once.
"Paul, what are you doing?" Hawkes grabbed Wang's arm.
"Learning, Hawkes. Hold this." Wang handed the cane to Hawkes who took it reflexively, releasing Wang. "I need information to make an informed decision." Paul walked forward, only letting go of 'Phousse's hand when he had to.
Patrick gently stroked Paul's cheek. "Try to relax. I won't let you fall. Trust me." He placed a gentle kiss on the dry lips. From there, Patrick slid his hands down the firm body and back up, cradling Paul's head in one hand and holding Paul against him with the other hand.
A soft sigh escaped Paul as Patrick kissed and nibbled from Paul's lips and jaw to his throat. More kisses were administered down to the base of Paul's throat, before Patrick reversed course back to his lips, no longer dry but wet and parted. A kiss, then Patrick repeated his actions on the other side. Back at Paul's mouth, Patrick kissed the young man again.
Paul's hands hesitantly reached around Patrick to stroke the broad shoulders. He moaned softly as Patrick returned to his throat, head thrown back giving better access to the vampire. His hands clenched in the shirt fabric as Patrick nipped lightly at his throat.
Angling his head more to the side and pulling Paul into position, Patrick allowed his needle-like fangs to pierce Paul's skin and sink down into the pounding, pulsing artery.
"Uhn..." Paul's back arched, but his body was held firmly in place by Patrick. Eyes closed, his hands clenched, fingers digging into Patrick's flesh. "Oh, God...."
Patrick withdrew after only ten seconds, but continued holding Paul securely. As Paul's knees refused to hold him up, Patrick picked Paul up and carried him over to his seat by Hawkes. Gently, Patrick set Paul down, smiling as Paul opened his eyes. "How was that?"
"Oh, God..." Paul trembled as he reached up to caress Patrick's jaw. "That... that is what they get? Only stronger?"
"Yes." Patrick crouched before Paul. "It is much stronger when sex is involved."
"Paul?" 'Phousse's voice shook slightly as she looked down at Paul.
Paul gazed up at Vanessa. "It's absolutely fantastic, Vanessa. I want to find out if there is really something between us first, but I also think I will eventually have to do this. Silver is going to need all the help she can get."
For a long moment, 'Phousse stared down at Wang. She swallowed several times and turned to face Patrick. "Show me now."
"Vanessa?" Paul placed his hand on her arm.
"I need to know what I'm competing with."
Gently, Patrick said, "Don't think of it as competing. If you both were Remal, then Lysa would make love to you both at the same time. And your private time together would be stronger and more satisfying."
"Why both of us at the same time?" asked 'Phousse.
"She would only want the seed of her consort, so someone should be paying attention to Paul's needs."
"Oh." After a second, 'Phousse said, "I still want to try it."
Nodding, Patrick rose, his hand extended to her.
She took it and stood up.
"Will you trust me?"
"Yes."
Patrick's pleased smile brightened the room. He tilted her head up with one hand and, as he kissed her, slid the other hand down her side to wrap around her lower back. As her hands crept up around his shoulders, he cradled her head in a hand while he kissed and nibbled her throat like he had Paul's. Once he was satisfied with Vanessa's responses, Patrick drank from her. He withdrew after ten seconds, still holding her stiffened body in his arms. Placing her in Paul's lap, Patrick caressed her cheek then Paul's as Paul wrapped an arm around Vanessa.
A soft sigh escaped 'Phousse as she opened eyes she had not been aware she had closed. "I've never felt anything like it before." She cuddled against Wang.
"It lasts longer if you share Blood regularly with a vampire." Patrick stood up and stretched, making McQueen aware of the finely sculpted body.
Hawkes rose slowly. "My turn." He set Wang's cane to the side.
"Are you sure?"
"Yes."
It took Patrick longer to get Hawkes to relax, but Hawkes' reaction was even more intense than the other two once Patrick drank.
"Oh, man, oh, man," muttered Hawkes as he sagged in Patrick's arms. "It's better than any drug, even Green Meanies."
With a chuckle, Patrick eased Hawkes back down on the couch.
Hawkes sprawled, eyes still closed. When Patrick stroked his cheek, he grabbed his hand and brought it up for a kiss on the palm. "Any time."
"Glad you enjoyed it."
"So, how many Remal are necessary to keep a vampire at full health?" West asked, his eyes riveted on Hawkes.
"Ideally, ten. That allows everyone to recover fully before being drunk from again."
McQueen saw West counting. He already knew the numbers. The trio, himself, and Hawkes would be only half the required amount. To his surprise, West looked at him.
"Sir, how are we going to work this out? Sexual fraternization within the squad..." West shook his head. "They'll drum us all out."
"We'll figure it out. Silver managed fifteen on the Ticonderoga without being discovered."
West nodded once, looked over at Hawkes, 'Phousse and Wang. Taking a deep breath, he stood up. "I'd like to see what this is like."
West stared at Patrick afterward. "Oh, god... count me in."
"You should probably think on it a bit more, hm?" Patrick put West back on the couch, smiling at the young man's reaction.
"Think about it, hell. If I do, I'll chicken out."
"Well, you might as well think it over and talk about it among yourselves. Lysa won't be able to even consider the lot of you until after she and TC return." Patrick shook his head slightly. "He is her priority right now."
"I can see that." West rubbed his throat reflexively. "I didn't even feel you."
"Under the right circumstances, you wouldn't."
West turned to Vansen. "You should at least try it once, Shane."
"I can't deny that vampires exist, but I'm not ready to bare my throat to one." Vansen stared defiantly at Patrick.
"Fine by me." Patrick shrugged. "We don't force anyone. Not even those born as Remal."
"I find that hard to believe." Vansen's voice was hard.
"You don't get it, do you? Look, Peter is my brother. Now if some other vampire forces him to submit, how do you think Jake, Lysa, and myself will react?"
"Angrily."
"Damn right. The same will happen if I were to force Gayle. Her father and sister are vampires. We are family. Mothers, fathers, brothers, sisters, aunts, uncles, there is no rhyme or reason to who is what. So we don't force anyone under normal circumstances."
"What about what happened between Silver and the colonel? When we brought her back from that mission?"
Patrick shook his head. "That was not a normal circumstance. A vampire so close to death is allowed certain latitudes. The closer to death a vampire is the harder it is to control the hunger."
"Shane." McQueen waited until he had her attention. "The only time on the transport Silver didn't give me blood back was the first time she drank from me. True, she hurt me, but remember how I looked when I walked off that transport. I was in better shape than when she first drank from me."
"But sir-"
"No, Shane. I went into the situation with my eyes open. I knew she could have killed me if she lost control. She nearly did twice, but I'm alive, here and now. And Shane, she was willing to stay behind rather than risk killing me. I told her I wasn't leaving without her."
Vansen bowed her head over clasped hands.
"Are there any more questions?" asked Gayle.
"What happens to Remal who never join with a vampire?" 'Phousse gazed at Gayle.
"They never reach their full potential. I've talked to several. They all say that there is a feeling of not being complete." Gayle shrugged. "For those like yourself, if you join as Remal, you will gain. And if you stop after a time, you merely lose those benefits, returning to being merely human again. For us, if we stop after starting to share the Blood, it is like a drug withdrawal. We need the Blood to be complete. That is part of the price we pay." She looked at the squad members. "Any other questions?"
"If we become Remal, are we fair game for any vampire?"
"No." Patrick smiled at Wang. "Any vampire must ask permission once you've chosen a vampire to be Remal with."
"Whose permission?"
"Under normal circumstances, both yours and your vampire's. In some cases, just yours." Patrick's eyes met McQueen's briefly as he turned to walk back over to Peter and Cheryle. "After all, since Peter and Cheryle are married, it would be bad manners of me to just ask Cheryle, now wouldn't it?"
"Yes," agreed Wang.
When Patrick looked at him again for just a second, McQueen felt his breath catch. Was Patrick letting him know he was interested? And if he was, just what did he do about it? Did he want another vampire coveting him? But he couldn't deny the attraction he felt for Patrick.
"Does anyone else have a question?" Roger leaned forward.
Heads were shaken.
"Then why don't you think over what you've learned tonight. If you need to ask a question later, feel free to ask any of us. We will take the time to talk to you." Roger rose and held out his hand to Gayle.
McQueen watched as Patrick gave both his brother and Cheryle a hand up. As he left, Patrick met McQueen's questioning eyes and smiled.
No, no, no, he did not need any more complications. McQueen turned his gaze to his kids. Whispering quietly together were 'Phousse and Wang. He could guess what about. Hawkes had reached out to West who took the hand and smiled.
"I think you need to talk this over and you need to fill Paul in on what he's missed since he came to Earth." McQueen got to his feet, glancing at his timepiece. He had plenty of time to get a couple of scotches before his meeting with Silver.
"Sir, where are you going?" asked Vansen.
"I have someone to meet in a little while."
"Silver?"
"Yes." McQueen tried not to think about Patrick.
"See you in the morning, sir."
"I won't be here until later. Cassie and I are going out early."
'Phousse raised an eyebrow. "Sir?"
"She has someplace she wants to show me."
'Phousse grinned. "And it makes a great time to bond with her."
"I will not dignify that with an answer." McQueen smiled back at 'Phousse. "Good night."
"Good night, sir."
A couple of scotches under his belt, McQueen went to the library. He took a seat in the area where Silver had listened to music. Succumbing to the urge to relax, he stretched his feet out before him and closed his eyes, hands folded on his lap, settling into the padded chair..
The library door opened and closed several times before he knew Silver had entered. He opened his eyes and started to rise.
"Don't get up. You look far too comfortable to be moving."
As she approached, he saw the tiredness in her eyes. "How many to go?"
"One. I've barreled through them as fast as I can. I'll sleep for several hours tomorrow afternoon." She took the chair to his left and reached out.
Entwining his fingers in hers, he sighed, enjoying the touch. He drank in the sight of her, not missing the way her shoulders slumped slightly, or the tension running through her body. "When will you feed the hunger?"
"After the trial is over." She squeezed his hand. "Don't worry about me, love. I will survive."
"I can't help but worry."
"Just remember that I love you."
"And I you." After several minutes of just watching her, he asked, "Lysa, I think someone is interested in me."
"Oh, who?"
"Patrick." He didn't expect the chuckle she gave. "What?"
"Doesn't surprise me. Patrick has excellent taste. You two are very alike. He's always been drawn to those like himself."
"Do you mind?"
She shook her head. She rose and moved over to his chair. With a grin, Silver sat on his lap facing him, her knees on either side of his hips. Kissing him, she let him feel her love and desire, hands roaming his body. "No, I don't mind. Like I've said before, I don't expect you to be monogamous. Just let me know who, hm?"
"Would he drink from me?" He stroked her throat with a thumb.
"No."
"Good. You're the only one I want doing that."
She kissed him again. "Hakur, grant me strength," she breathed a moment later, resting her head on his shoulder. "I want you so much and I can't have you."
"How long can you stay?" He held her tight.
"An hour."
"Do we risk somewhere more private?" He ran his fingers up into her hair and breathed in the strawberry scent of her shampoo.
"No. If I slip now with you, I'll have to start all over again."
"Cruel." A sigh and he said, "All right. We stay here."
A most satisfying hour went by. They didn't talk much, but McQueen enjoyed the cuddling and allowed himself to revel in the fact that the woman in his arms was his. Reluctantly, he let her pull away.
"I have to go." She kissed him again. In his ear, she whispered, "And if Patrick is indeed interested, be gentle. You'll understand."
He cupped her face. "How long will it take us to get to the cabin?"
"An hour."
"An hour too long."
She laughed. "Soon, love, soon."
As she stood up, he joined her. He pulled her close and, not caring who saw, kissed her passionately, feeling her respond.
"I have to go, Ty." She sighed and took a step away from him.
"I'll walk you to the door."
"No further."
He nodded. He opened the door for her and watched her walk down the hall. After several minutes, he made his way to his quarters, thinking he better take a cold shower if he wanted any sleep.
McQueen was about to open his rooms' door when Patrick's velvet voice reached him.
"TC."
How could someone fit so much desire and fear into only two letters? He turned his head and saw Patrick approaching. He swallowed hard, his eyes drawn to the long fingers of the hand held out to him. It took him a few seconds to say, "Do you want to come in and talk?"
"Yes."
Inside, McQueen gestured to the chair as he sat down on the bed. "What's on your mind?"
"You." Patrick sat hunched forward, obviously apprehensive.
"I thought so."
"Look, I'm not usually like this. But I've been drawn to you since you walked off the car."
"And I to you."
"So, do we do something about it?" Patrick met McQueen's eyes.
"I haven't decided."
"Fair enough." Patrick forced himself to sit back. "What will help you decide?"
"A kiss."
Patrick raised an eyebrow, but got to his feet and held out his hand. "I'm willing."
McQueen took the hand and stood face to face with Patrick. He saw the uncertainty in Patrick's eyes and decided to take the initiative. Even as Patrick had with Wang and the others, McQueen gently kissed him. He felt a hand slide down his back and the other cup the back of his head. His own hands McQueen let slide up Patrick's back.
When Patrick started kissing him harder, McQueen broke the kiss off. "Just a second, Patrick. I want to make one thing clear."
"Yes?" Patrick's voice was husky as he nibbled on McQueen's throat, slipping off his shoes.
"No drinking."
"Absolutely." Patrick lifted his head to look into McQueen's eyes. "I just want a lover tonight. Is that ok?"
"Yes." How could he deny such needy emerald eyes? "I have to get up at 0330."
"Ok." Patrick grinned before ducking his head back down to nuzzle behind McQueen's ear. His hands pulled McQueen's shirt up and slid underneath.
As Patrick teased his nipples and continued under his ear, McQueen freed up the cream colored shirt and ran his fingers over the hard abdomen, enjoying the feel of the quivers that it caused. He moaned as Patrick retaliated by nipping lightly down his throat. Moving his hands upward, McQueen felt roughness under his fingers and frowned as he pulled the shirt up.
Anger surged through him at the sight of the many scars. "Who the hell did that to you?" He couldn't believe Charles or any of the others had done it.
Patrick sighed, burying his head in McQueen's neck. "AIs. I was eight. They took over my school." He wrapped his arms around McQueen with a quiet sob. "Out of twenty in my class, only three of us survived. I watched them get tortured and killed."
"And they tortured you." McQueen felt Patrick's nod. Now he knew what Silver had meant about being gentle. "It's all right, Patrick. I'm not going to turn you away. I have my own scars." He lifted Patrick's head and kissed him.
"The last Angry Angel. I know." Patrick returned the kiss.
The desperation in Patrick's kiss reached him. He held Patrick. "I'm not going anywhere for a while, Patrick. We have time."
McQueen let the shirt fall back down, but he left his hands on Patrick's skin, dragging his nails lightly and seeking to renew the passion. He moved his mouth down to behind an ear and nibbled, pleased when Patrick moaned and started pressing against him. Against his thigh, McQueen could feel Patrick responding as he wanted. Then slowly McQueen lifted the shirt and took a partial step back. "Off with this."
He tossed the shirt toward the chair and bent his head to kiss the scars covering the upper chest before him. With infinite patience, McQueen kissed each puckered scar and rubbed his thumbs over the raised nipples. Even as Patrick reciprocated in kind, McQueen dropped his hands to the jeans fastenings. He unsnapped and pulled the zipper down, letting the fabric sink to the floor. As Patrick stepped out of the jeans, McQueen ran his fingers under the band of the briefs and started to ease them downward.
A moan escaped Patrick when McQueen's fingers brushed against his cock. "Oh, yes." He pulled McQueen's shirt up and bent his head to suck on a nipple.
Fire danced along McQueen's nerves, but he continued with his task. The briefs slid down the long, hard thighs on their own and were kicked aside. Cupping the firm buttocks, McQueen moaned himself as Patrick returned to his throat and started nibbling. McQueen grabbed Patrick's hands to keep them from undressing him. Turning them both around, McQueen backed Patrick up until the other bumped up against the bed.
Pushing him down, McQueen said, "Just sit there."
In a single motion, McQueen stripped off his shirt and threw it behind him. Undoing his belt allowed him the chance to study Patrick. A perfect cock rose from the dark pubic hair above the muscled thighs. Well defined pectorals and an almost washboard abdomen finished the scarred body. The wide variety of scars ranged from ankles to collarbones and McQueen cursed the AIs that had done it. Just seeing the puckered scars scattered throughout the thin and thick roped scars and the skin grafts as large as his palm told him why Charles was so driven to discover human regeneration. Years of pain could have been avoided.
"Poor Patrick," breathed McQueen. "To have suffered so." To prevent him from reacting to his words, McQueen dropped to his knees and sucked the head of Patrick's shaft into his mouth. A hand ran through his hair as Patrick moaned.
"Ah, yes..." Patrick sank backwards until he lay stretched across the bed, his hands continuing to run through McQueen's hair.
McQueen used his tongue to good effect. After first dipping it in and out of the slit on the top, he lapped down the length to the base, up one side and down the other. Licking the hard shaft like an ice cream cone caused Patrick to buck. He swirled his tongue around the head before taking over half the length in his mouth and watched as Patrick shuddered. Several long slow pulls left Patrick tossing his head and clenching his fists in the covers.
Lifting his head, McQueen asked, "Like that?"
"God, yes!" Before McQueen could continue working on him, Patrick managed, "It's not fair. I want to see all of you."
"Fair's fair."
McQueen stood up and finished undoing his pants. He let them fall to the floor, kicking them away as he started to slide his hands under his boxer briefs. Patrick raised himself onto his elbows to watch as McQueen turned to the side and slid the boxers down to his knees before letting them drop. Standing straight, McQueen let Patrick run his eyes over him.
"Now, move to the head of the bed," McQueen commanded quietly. He nodded approvingly as Patrick shifted so that he lay the length of the bed, head on the pillow. "Very good."
Straddling thighs, McQueen took hold of his wrists and raised them up to the brass rail headboard. "Don't let go." The slight look of apprehension in the emerald eyes made him say, "I'm going to make love to you. That's all. If it really gets to be too much, let go. But I'd like you to try. Ok?"
Patrick nodded, a slight frown marring his forehead.
Determined to wipe the apprehension away, McQueen kissed him before starting to explore the magnificent body beneath him. Licking, kissing and nibbling, McQueen traveled from mouth to ear, to collarbone, up to an elbow and back again to repeat on the other side. No longer apprehensive, Patrick twisted and moaned, retaliating by kissing any available part of. Another leisurely kiss and McQueen moved downward.
Each nipple received his attention until they were hard and erect, so sensitive that Patrick shuddered whenever he breathed on them. Nipping his way along the fine line of black hair, McQueen reached the quivering belly. Exploring the belly button with his tongue caused Patrick to buck and writhe. For several minutes, he played with the indentation, enjoying the way Patrick thrashed and groaned. He parted the wildly flexing thighs, kneeling between them as he turned his attention to them using his mouth and hands to sooth and lower Patrick's level of arousal.
"Are you all right?" McQueen asked, hovering over the slightly parted lips.
"Very all right," panted Patrick. "Don't stop."
"Ok
." A deep kiss and McQueen proceeded to kiss his way back to a hip and thigh junction. He caressed the taut thigh, brushing his fingers higher and higher until just touching the heavy sacs. Then he followed the same trail with his mouth, lipping the firm flesh, breathing in the musky scent of Patrick. His fingers rolled the sacs before easing downward, exploring. Feeling the scars brought tears to McQueen's eyes as he realized the true depths of hell an eight-year-old child had been subjected to. Even as Patrick tensed under his touch, McQueen diverted Patrick's attention by once more paying attention to the hard erect cock with his mouth.
The fear-based tension flowed into sexual tension and McQueen employed his mouth skillfully, wondering where he could find something for lube. The memory of a white tube and some packets came to mind. A last hard suck and McQueen let the hard cock drop to the firm belly while he reached over to the night stand. There it was.
"TC?"
McQueen heard the fear as he sat back. "I won't hurt you, Patrick. Trust me." Gently running a finger down from the heavy balls, he asked, "You've kept everyone away from here, haven't you?"
A jerky nod was the answer.
"I can imagine why. It's hard enough when you're fully grown, but only eight?" McQueen shook his head slightly and then moved up to kiss him. He met Patrick's frightened eyes squarely. "I promise, Patrick, I will not hurt you. Will you trust me?"
It took Patrick a moment to find his voice again. He turned his head away, cheeks red with shame. "I've tried and tried. But none of them knew... They hadn't been..." A single tear escaped. "What a joke. A vampire who can't perform fully." His throat choked on tears.
McQueen forced Patrick to look at him. "Will you trust me?"
"I want to."
"If at any time you want me to stop, all you have to do is tell me. Ok?" McQueen rubbed a tear off the tanned cheek.
After a moment, Patrick nodded. "I want to try."
"We'll do this together."
The slow, sensuous kiss that McQueen gave Patrick achieved the desired goal, rekindling the ebbing desire. He started all over, taking his time.
Nipping lightly at his under arm, McQueen realized that part of Patrick's scent included raspberry. "You showered before coming here."
"I was hoping..."
"You're a considerate lover, Patrick." McQueen gave him another kiss.
Patrick writhed on the bed, whimpering, by the time McQueen reached the dark haired groin. Mouth priming the hard shaft, McQueen used one hand to roll, knead and tug gently on the heavy sacs. The back of the fingers on his other hand he rested firmly on the sensitive skin below. After a few minutes, he started stroking downward.
Ready for the next step, McQueen gave a long hard suck as he bent his legs at the knees. He nibbled down the twitching cock, sucked briefly at the base, before licking his way between the parted buttocks. Before Patrick could protest, McQueen started rimming him. The strangled scream and the way Patrick twisted frantically spoke eloquently of remaining nerve endings.
Concerned though about the violence of Patrick's reaction, McQueen asked, "Does it hurt?"
"No!"
"Then I shall continue."
"Oh, yes!"
McQueen returned to teasing and pleasuring the scarred opening, forcing incoherent sounds from Patrick. After several minutes, McQueen sat up to see how he fared. A smile lit his eyes at the sight of Patrick in a pleasure-induced daze. Seizing the opportunity, McQueen used the lubricant. He eased one finger inside him, taking his time, ensuring that plenty of lube coated the passage. Moving his finger back and forth, McQueen took advantage of Patrick's relaxed state to stretch the scarred muscle group.
"TC?" Pat sounded unsure several minutes later.
"Am I hurting you?"
"Not exactly."
Patrick remained relaxed so McQueen started on the next phase. He stroked Patrick's prostate, chuckling softly at the way Patrick nearly arched off the bed with a choked scream.
"What... what was that?" Patrick trembled on the bed, breathing hard. "Is that... what it's like when I... do it to my partners?"
"Yes."
McQueen stroked the sensitive spot often enough to keep the level of intensity going up. He watched him carefully, hoping that he'd be unaware when he started another finger. Despite his efforts, Patrick stiffened.
"Patrick?" He stopped his hand.
"It hurts some. Don't stop."
"I don't want any of this to hurt."
"Just do it. Please."
When he hesitated, Patrick shoved himself toward McQueen, impaling himself. A groan escaped. "There. The worst is done."
Frowning, McQueen looked at Patrick's face.
"I want you in me before the night is out. Don't pussyfoot around. A little pain is nothing. Now, please, keep going."
McQueen shook his head slightly. "Damn pushy vampire." He smiled to take the sting out.
Some more lubricant and McQueen resumed pleasuring him. As Patrick succumbed to the intoxicating pleasure, McQueen decided to give him the first climax of the evening. He kept his hand going as he used his mouth. It took only minutes for Patrick to arch upward, overwhelmed.
Finished for the moment, McQueen went into the bathroom, licking his lips clean, and washed his hands thoroughly. Patrick still hadn't recovered when he returned and he brushed his fingers across the smooth forehead. Realizing that Patrick wouldn't get any more relaxed, McQueen settled back in place, lifting Patrick's legs over his shoulders. Any time he felt resistance as he eased into him, McQueen paused, waiting for the vampire's body to become accustomed to the larger intruder.
"That almost hurts." Patrick sighed. "But probably a good idea."
"How long-"
"Not long. Are you ready to move?"
"Not yet. You haven't finished adjusting."
"Try it anyway."
"I'll decide when I'm ready." McQueen gave Patrick a gentle slap on the behind.
"I'm being pushy again."
"You said it."
After a moment, McQueen started moving back and forth slowly, lifting Patrick's hips.
"Oh, yeah," moaned Patrick, fingers clenching the headboard bars.
Once he could move without resistance, McQueen said, "Let's shift to the edge."
The move changed McQueen's angle and depth of penetration, causing Patrick to thrust his hips at McQueen. "Damn, but I wish I could have had someone do this a long time ago."
"You needed to want to trust the person you let do this."
"I think you're right."
Several slow thrusts were all McQueen needed to make sure that he wasn't causing Patrick any pain. He sped up gradually, enjoying the passionate fire in the brilliant jade eyes. Hand wrapped in the covers, Patrick met each thrust with soft moans of desire, urging McQueen to move faster and deeper.
Not ready to send either of them over the edge yet, McQueen slowed down, taking deep calming breaths.
"No!" Patrick sobbed for breath. "I was so damned close."
"I know. Not just yet."
"Never figured you for a torturer."
"Just for that..." McQueen slowed down even further, resisting all of Patrick's physical attempts to get him back up to speed.
"Uncle!" Twisting desperately, Patrick gave the children's sign of surrender.
McQueen laughed low in his throat and sped up. This time, they would finish together.
Incoherent mumbles issued from Patrick as he thrashed and continued meeting McQueen's thrusts. Wanting Patrick to slide over first, McQueen wrapped a hand around the abandoned hard shaft and started pumping it in rhythm. Patrick came, nearly screaming with the intensity. The additional stimulation as Patrick's muscles contracted sent McQueen over the edge with a soft cry. He slumped down onto his elbows over Patrick a moment later.
Patrick remained out of it when McQueen recovered several minutes later. Pleased with the outcome, McQueen staggered to the bathroom where he took a fast shower. He returned with a warm washcloth to clean up the mess on the tanned abdomen and saw that Patrick's eyes had opened.
The last of the mess cleaned up, McQueen asked, "All right?"
Patrick reached up and pulled McQueen down, devouring his mouth. "That was fantastic," he murmured in McQueen's ear, refusing to release him.
"Glad you enjoyed it."
"I seem to be one up on you, though." Patrick pulled McQueen down beside him, rolling him onto his back. "Time to remedy the situation, I think." He proceeded to kiss McQueen, exploring and tasting.
Running his hands along McQueen's arms, Patrick whispered, "Hands behind your head. After all, fair is fair." The green eyes danced with mischief.
Obeying, McQueen could barely restrain his moans, as Patrick started kissing and nibbling from behind his ear to the base of his throat. As slender fingers trailed patterns on the underside of his arms, the mouth moved the torture to his chest. Fire started zinging along his nerves.
His fingers clenched tightly behind his head as the sensuous mouth began trailing kissing down his abdomen. The fire became heat, burning through him. Helpless under the assault, McQueen twisted on the bed, heat consuming his body. The hot mouth and capable hands started attacking his thighs and the heat intensified.
The occasional brush or touch accidentally on his cock or balls made him writhe in anticipation. Patrick started paying attention to his balls and a gut deep groan escaped McQueen from the intense flare-up. He arched off the bed when Patrick's mouth sucked on his aching shaft.
When Patrick withdrew after several exultant minutes, McQueen sobbed. "Now who's torturing, hm?" he managed after a moment.
"Not for long. I want you too much to keep this up for too long."
McQueen felt the coolness of lubricant between his buttocks and closed his eyes, relaxing the required muscles. "Shouldn't need to take too long."
"Just want to be sure. Don't want you damaged in any way. Lysa'd have my head."
"Which one?" McQueen grinned.
Patrick laughed. "Whichever one she got hold of first."
First one finger then a second pressed and entered. Patrick worked to stretch him first. When the fingers brushed his prostate, McQueen gasped as liquid fire seared its way to his brain. He panted for breath, feeling Patrick easing inside. In minutes, Patrick lay snugly enveloped in his flesh. "Damn, but that feels good." He lifted his legs over Patrick's shoulders.
Patrick smiled and started the next phase of the dance.
To McQueen's delight, Patrick soon couldn't manage a steady pace, increasing speed, which McQueen matched. Prostate stimulated both ways; McQueen spiraled higher and higher, increasingly desperate for the final climax. The added stimulation of fingers curling around his cock sent him over the edge with an explosion of pleasure.
An arm wrapped around his chest was the first thing McQueen noticed. Followed by the fact that he lay on his side under the covers. The flat, hard body behind him shifted slightly. "I'm awake."
"You must have been tired."
The hand traced patterns on his chest. "Yes. Forty miles, twenty laps. I'm pretty beat."
"Do you want me to leave then?"
He felt Patrick withdraw slightly. "Stay, please. I could use some company." Patrick settled back against him. "Just be warned. I often have nightmares. Violent ones."
"So do I."
"No wonder Lysa's so good at helping me. She learned helping you."
"Yes. Our parents are devoted to their work. Sometimes it amazes me that they even had time to have kids. Well, they didn't have the vaguest clue how to deal with me after... the AIs. So, for a while, they ignored my nightmares. Lysa couldn't. She started sleeping in my bed so she could be there when I woke up. Even now, I have trouble sleeping alone. I prefer to have someone there, even if not in my bed. I couldn't go back to school; I'd have hysterical attacks."
"It's no wonder."
"So it was decided that I would be home-schooled for a while until I could go back to school. I never did. I'm part of the reason the school is here for the Invitroes. My father decided that I shouldn't be the only one in the class. So he opened the school to the Invitroes. It's been going strong ever since."
"So something good came from the ordeal."
"At the cost of my mental and physical health, yes." Patrick pulled him closer.
"What? I thought-"
"It has taken years for me to be able to be intimate with anyone. I was shell-shocked for three days. I didn't talk; I didn't hear anyone; I did nothing except scream from time to time. Then when I came out of it, I couldn't stand to be touched."
"A living nightmare."
"It was extremely hard on my parents, especially my mother. She would go to brush her fingers across my cheek or my hair and I would pull away. As much as I wanted to be held and touched, I couldn't let anyone do it for months. And it was Lysa who was the first. I would wake screaming and she would be wrapped around me, crying. I was nearly twelve before I stopped flinching whenever someone touched me." Patrick sighed. "But enough of that. You don't need to be burdened with my trials. Go back to sleep."
"I'll try."
"It's three o'clock. Would you like an extra half hour of sleep or some morning activity?"
The voice spoke in McQueen's ear. He blinked, processed the statement and the voice even as he fully woke up. "The fun, I believe."
A mouth covered his and a hand grasped him firmly.
By the time McQueen reached the bathroom, he felt quite awake. He dialed up a hot shower and stood under the pulsing spray for several minutes before washing. The water off, he opened the shower door and found Patrick holding a towel. He took it with a smile.
"You're delicious in the morning, you know."
"So I've been told." McQueen ran the towel over his head.
"I'm glad Lysa has you. She deserves a good man."
Toweling off his back, McQueen raised an eyebrow. "I've been warned to expect the three of you."
Patrick grinned. "She is our sister, even if she can pound any two of us into the ground."
"I'm lucky to have her." McQueen swiped down his front and started on his legs.
"Do you mind if I stay here for a while? I just don't want to get dressed in order to get to my rooms." Patrick leaned against the wall.
"It's fine."
"TC, thank you for last night. And everything."
McQueen swung the towel so that it wrapped around Patrick and grabbed the other end to pull him close kissing him. "I enjoyed it. You're welcome. I'm glad I could help."
"I don't suppose..."
"I don't know, Patrick. But you might talk to Russell. He'd like to be a friend and perhaps something more if you let him."
"Russell, hm? I'll talk to him sometime today."
"Now, get back in bed so I can get dressed. I don't want to keep Cassie waiting."
Patrick grinned and slipped away.
Next : Chapter Seventeen
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