"Blood Seduction"

As lunch time neared, Sara made her way down to the Precinct basement to see whether Vicki wanted to go out for a quick bite. Slipping quietly into the morgue, she found Vicki bent over a microscope, completely oblivious to the busy comings and goings surrounding her. She cleared her throat a couple of times but her friend didn’t even stir. She finally had to say loudly, “Hey, Vick. Are you awake or did you nod off down there?” Vicki jumped, knocking over and shattering an empty test tube lying beside her on the counter as her head shot up and her hand shot out. “Sara,” she gasped, “What are you doing here?” Sara stepped back, wondering what was wrong with her friend. Vicki looked like hell. She was dramatically pale and the dark circles beneath her eyes were pronounced. “Jeez, Vick,” Sara said, putting her hand on Vicki’s shoulder to steady her, “Are you okay? You don’t look so good.” The petite coroner gently shook off Sara’s hand and slipped out of her chair to crouch down on the floor. Face hidden, she tried to clean up broken glass. “I’m fine,” she mumbled. The strained croak floated up from the vicinity of Sara’s feet.

Vicki rose and turned to dump glass shards into her trashcan. When she turned back, she stood still staring into Sara’s face, stricken. Sara looked back at her, one brow raised. “What?” she asked. Vicki shook her head and said softly, “No. I’m lying. I’m not fine at all. I’m miserable. I need to talk to you and I don’t know how to do it. I’m afraid that you’ll hate me when I’m done.” Sara stared back at her, a little smile playing around her lips. “Well,” she said, “You’ve certainly peaked my interest. Why don’t we go get some lunch and you can tell me all about it.” Vicki pushed a hand roughly through her hair, leaving it spiky. “This isn’t something we should talk about in public,” she said, “You might want to hit me.” Feeling the first touch of genuine disquiet, Sara asked, “What did you do, Vick?” Vicki Po started to cry, pulling a used Kleenex from the pocket of her lab coat and blowing her nose noisily. Sara looked around them quickly to see whether they had started to draw attention. The Precinct was a hotbed of gossip, usually with a lot less ammunition than the coroner was now providing. Sara saw several curious glances already shifting in their direction. Not wanting to set the rumor mill buzzing, Sara caught Vicki’s arm and pulled her into a small, vacant conference room just off the main lab. She shut the door after them but didn’t turn on the lights.

After getting Vicki settled in a chair by the long table, Sara slid into the chair across the table from her. Vicky was still dabbing at her eyes with the soggy Kleenex. Now, she dipped her face again to blow her nose with a loud honk. Sara was out of patience. “Okay, Vick,” she ordered, “Spill.” Vicki dropped her head and nervously started shredding the tissue. “Ian made a pass at me last night,” she mumbled. Sara frowned, trying to make sense out of what she thought she had just heard. “Did you just say that Ian, my Ian, made a pass at you?” she asked. Vicki nodded, sniffling loudly, head still down. “He kissed me, Sara,” she moaned, “And, oh god, I kissed him back.” Sara was still trying to process what she was hearing. She knew absolutely that Ian would never come on to Vicki. That left one possibility. “Why, that little shit!” Sara hissed. Vicki’s head shot up and her mouth dropped open. She couldn’t stand it if she came between her best friend and her lover, even if he was being unfaithful to her. Vicki pushed a hand roughly through her hair again, creating an even more tangled mess. “I’m so sorry, Sara,” she wailed. Sara started to laugh. At first, Vicki thought that she was hysterical. Then, she realized that Sara was really laughing. She was amused. Vicki studied her friend, appalled. “What’s funny in all this?” she managed. Sara fought to get herself under control. She finally took a deep breath. “Sorry, sorry,” she said, voice still a bit choked with mirth, “It’s alright, Vick. Really. It wasn’t Ian. It was Devian.”

Vicki blinked. Was Sara telling her that Ian had multiple personality disorder? Did he have some alter ego called “Devian”? How was that funny? “Has he been institutionalized?” Vicki asked, “Is he on medication?” Now, Sara looked at Vicki, flummoxed, trying yet again to figure out what the hell she was talking about. “Who?” she asked, “You mean Ian? Why would Ian have been in a funny farm?” And, as she said it, it suddenly hit her what Vicki was thinking. “Oh,” she snorted, starting to laugh helplessly again, “Oh no. You don’t understand. Devian is real. He is Ian’s…” Sara stopped abruptly. She had very nearly said “clone.” Instead, she now finished, “Twin brother. Identical twin brother.” Vicki’s eyes went huge. For several moments, neither one of them spoke, both of them digesting the ramifications of the whole situation in which they found themselves. “But he said he was Ian,” Vicki said, frowning, “At least, I think he did.” Sara nodded. “Dev is a real pain in the ass,” she declared, “He gets off on playing games.” Vicki blinked slowly, reliving the whole clogged sink incident in her head. She cleared her throat. “I don’t want to create trouble. I really don’t,” she said, “But are you positive that it wasn’t Ian?” Sara shrugged. She was positive; but she was also willing to play detective if it would set Vicki’s mind at rest. “Okay,” Sara said, “Let’s follow the logic. When and where did this kiss occur?”

Vicki nodded, realizing what Sara was doing. “Last night about 7:30,” Vicki replied, “In my loft.” Sara frowned. “Did he come to your door?” she asked, wondering what Dev had been doing, what he had wanted with her friend. Vicki shook her head. “No,” she responded, “I ran into him in the hallway.” That was more like it, Sara thought. It didn’t surprise her at all that the sneaky bastard had seen an opportunity and had gone for it. She was going to rip him a new hole when she got home. Sara smiled. “It was Devian,” she confirmed, “At 7:30 last night, I was with Ian at Danny’s dojo. Danny was there too.” Vicki let out a soft gasp of relief, then stopped and asked, “You’re not involved with the brother too, are you?” Sara made a face and held up her hands. “What do you take me for, Vick? Perish the thought,” she said, “He may look just like Ian but it ends there. He’s nothing like Ian in the personality department. Dev is definitely not my type.” Vicki smiled. The look now on her face was a bit secretive and far away. Watching her, Sara’s stomach did a little flip. “Oh no,” she thought. “You know,” Vicki said, “Now that you mention it, I remember thinking that ‘Ian’ was acting strange. Even before the kiss, I mean. And his outfit didn’t seem right.” Sara snorted. “Yeah,” she agreed, “The leather. Ian wouldn’t be caught dead in that getup. Devian looked like Benicio DelToro in ‘The Usual Suspects’.” Vicki tilted her head. “Did he stay with you guys last night?” she asked, “Does he live in the city or is he just visiting from out of town?”

“Uhhh,” Sara stalled, her mind furiously flipping through options. She took the easy way out to give herself some time to think. “Now that you’re feeling better,” she said, “Why don’t we go get some lunch and I’ll tell you all about the bad seed.” Vicki’s eyes shut briefly as she thought about the way that hot, hard body had felt pressed erotically against hers. Hers eyes fluttered open again before she murmured, “Oh, come on. He can’t be that bad.” Not when he feels so incredibly good, she thought. Aloud, she added, “Lunch sounds fine. I’m starving now that I’m no longer in fear for my life.” They left the conference room and Vicki traded her lab coat for a cardigan and raincoat. Sara was sure that eyes still able to blink all around the morgue were noting that the crisis – whatever it had been – had passed. It was like working in a damn fishbowl. She had already had to slap around several jokers who had given her grief over “Pezzini’s make out marathon” with Ian in the jeep the night before. As she and Vicki headed toward the front door of the Precinct, her peripheral vision picked up an older detective of slight acquaintance heading toward her with a smirk on his face. Knowing what was coming, she turned her head and fixed him with a withering stare. The smirk dropped from his face and he veered in another direction. “Asshole,” she hissed under her breath, “Get a life!”

Vicki turned to her, startled, and asked, “What?” Sara shook her head as they dashed to the deli across the street. “Nothing,” she replied with a sheepish grin, “Ian and I got caught necking in the car in front of the Precinct last night and the chauvinist idiots that I work with are having a field day over it.” Vicki snorted. “The Nottingham brothers were certainly busy last night,” she observed. Sara brushed a hand through her hair as they sat at a small table in the corner of the deli. “You don’t know the half of it,” she muttered with a tight smile. Vicki studied her friend curiously. “No,” she agreed, “I’m sure I don’t. But, I’d like to. Tell me about Devian.” Sara played with the salt and pepper shakers on the table, head down. “So,” she said, attempting to change the subject, “Has Jake been over since you moved into the loft?” Vicki cleared her throat, a wounded look on her face. “What is it, Pez?” she asked, “Am I not good enough for your significant other’s brother? Is that it?” Sara lifted her head sharply and reached out to grab her friend’s hands. “Oh, Vick. No,” she cried, “Absolutely not. If anything, it’s the opposite. Dev is bad news. Steer clear of him. Please. He’s nothing but trouble.” Vicki disengaged her hands from Sara’s. “I see,” she said slowly, “But I’m afraid that I’m already caught in his spell. I know that sounds corny; but I just can’t stop thinking about him. When I thought he was Ian, I hated myself for that. Now that I know he’s Ian’s brother, it’s a whole different ball game. Please, tell me more about him.”

Sara sighed deeply, thinking about the best way to handle this awkward mess the rotten clone had gotten them into. She fixed her face in a mournful expression and said, “I’m sorry, Vick. He’s already gone. He just crashed with us last night on his way through town. But now he’s gone again.” She crossed her fingers under her other hand, hoping that that would be the end of it, that Vicki would let it go. Of course, she didn’t. “Gone where?” Vicki asked. Sara decided that she would rip the clone two new holes when she got home. One wasn’t enough. “China,” she said, coming up with the farthest place she could think of, “He went back to China on an early flight this morning. Devian lives in China.” Vicki’s face fell. “What?” she moaned, devastated, “What does he do there?” Oh hell, Sara thought. Her mind prevaricated furiously. After a beat or two, she said, “He’s a correspondent for some newspaper, I think. I honestly don’t remember which one. I wasn’t paying much attention when he caught up with Ian. I don’t like him.” Vicki dropped her head, digging her fingers through her hair. “Well, shit,” she mumbled, “Isn’t that just my luck?” Sara shrugged, trying to appear to commiserate. “Sorry, kiddo,” she said, “But, believe me, you really are better off that he’s gone. You don’t want to get mixed up with him. He would only make you miserable in the long run.” Vicki’s lips twitched. “Maybe,” she agreed, “But I bet getting there would be a hell of a ride.” Sara just looked at her friend. What could she say to that? It was probably true.

After work, Sara was having problems with the Buell and Vicki gave her a ride home. When they parked in the garage, Sara noticed that all three of Ian’s vehicles were there. She assumed that meant that the clone was in residence. Tonight, she was actually looking forward to seeing him. In fact, she couldn’t wait. She and Vicki rode up in the elevator together. As Vicki got off at the second floor, she bid goodnight to her friend, saying, “Thanks for being so understanding with me today. You had every right to be pissed even though it wasn’t Ian.” Sara shrugged. “Nah,” she disputed, “Just because I don’t like Dev doesn’t mean that I don’t recognize that he has a sort of perverse charm. You need to go have yourself a good, old fashioned tumble in the hay with Jake and forget all about the evil twin. Okay?” Vicki headed toward her door as Sara pulled down the door and hit the button. “I’ll try,” Vicki called, wishing it were that easy, “Night.” As the elevator began moving upward, Sara responded, “Night, Vick.” Sara stood at the front door of the loft, digging through pockets for her key. She could hear Hannibal on the other side of the door, letting out soft, excited woofs, knowing she was home. Without even knowing why she tried, Sara reached out and turned the knob. The door was open. Demerit number one in failing in his portrayal of Ian, Sara thought. She closed and locked the door behind her.

Sara crouched down to cuddle the big, giddy dog before lifting her head to yell, “Where are you, sparky?” Devian stuck his head out of the kitchen doorway. He had a big, wooden spoon in his hand. “Here, Pez,” he called back, “Making dinner.” She felt the hairs on her arms stand up in rage over his use of the nickname that only her friends were allowed to call her. She stood and strode to the kitchen. “Don’t you dare call me that!” she hissed. She stopped in the doorway, momentarily thrown by the clone’s eerie resemblance to Ian. He had on tight jeans and a form-fitting, dark blue tee shirt. A dish towel was wrapped around his slender hips as an apron. His feet were bare and his hair fell in loose waves to his shoulders. He was gorgeous. Dev grinned at her and said, “Hi.” Sara pulled her right arm back and swung it forward to connect in a roundhouse punch to his chin. Devian flew back a good two feet and landed hard on his ass on the kitchen floor. He sat there for a moment, stunned, seeing stars. When his vision cleared, he rubbed his chin, looking up at her. “What the hell was that for?” he asked, golden eyes furious. Sara stared down at him, her own eyes still narrowed dangerously. “That,” she barked, “Was for Vicki, you son of a bitch!” He got up carefully, edging backward, out of range. Some of the fury drained out of his expressive eyes. “Oh,” he said softly. Sara put her hands on her hips and moved forward. In perfect counterpoint, Devian moved back. “That’s it?” she asked, “’Oh.’ That’s all you have to say for yourself?” He shrugged, looking uncomfortable. “It was an impulse,” he explained, “I didn’t plan it. It just happened. She needed help and thought I was Ian.” Sara said nothing. She continued to watch him, eyes flashing, hands on hips. He cleared his throat, pulling the towel from around his hips to wipe his hands. “It seemed harmless at the time,” he mumbled.

She frowned at him. “It wasn’t. We need to talk about that,” she said, “But first I want to know how Ian is.” Devian looked even more uncomfortable. Sara’s heart clenched. “Don’t lie to me,” she warned. He took a deep breath and nodded, still absently rubbing his chin. “He’s more worried about you than he is about himself,” Dev replied, “The old man has him restrained in a room down in the lab and Immo had him knocked out most of the day, taking blood and doing tests. He woke up with a hell of a hangover from the tranq dart I shot him with last night. I tried to slip him some aspirin but he wouldn’t take it.” Sara wrung her hands, blinking and fighting tears. She pulled in a deep breath and asked, “What else?” Devian picked up the wooden spoon and started to stir something that smelled really good in a big pot on the stove. His back to her, the clone said, “Irons is furious with Ian for leaving him to go to you. It’s like you were rivals and Ian picked you over him. The old man is spoiling for a fight but he’s very weak.” Sara sighed, terrified, and asked, “Did he hit Ian?” Dev shook his head and grinned. “Fucker was going to,” he said, “He kept waiting for the rush from the transfusion. He kept fingering that cane of his with the big wolf’s head on it.” The clone let out a gleeful chuckle and added, “Of course, that rush never came because I switched the blood and he didn’t get juiced. He got the same tired, old shit that’s already creeping through his veins. Instead, he went to bed early because he wasn’t feeling well. He thinks he’ll get up tomorrow morning feeling like the Hulk. He’s in for a shock; Immo better head for the hills.”

Sara shut her eyes. “Thank god,” she breathed. Dev thought of saying, “You’re welcome,” but decided that he’d better not push his luck. The Wielder had already slugged him once. “Is Ian safe tonight?” she asked. The clone nodded. “He should be,” Devian said, “When I left, he was drugged to the gills. He’ll probably sleep through the night. The doc won’t be back until morning and the old man should be down for the night as well.” She levered herself up to sit on the kitchen counter. “So, he’s safe until tomorrow,” she said. Dev nodded again. He dipped the spoon in the pot and swung around toward her, holding his other hand under it to catch drips. Offering the spoon to her lips, he ordered, “Taste.” Sara pulled back, eyes wary. “What is it?” she asked. Moving the spoon closer, he teased, “Don’t be such a wuss, Wielder. It’s spaghetti sauce, not hemlock. Taste it for me.” Scrunching up her face, eyes shut, Sara flicked out her tongue to lick the spoon. Her eyes opened wide. It was surprisingly good. “That’s pretty good,” Sara observed laconically. The clone smirked back at her. “You don’t have to sound so surprised, Sara,” he replied. She took the spoon from him and licked it clean, face slack, eyes shut in pleasure. Dev raptly watched her tongue flick over the long, wooden spoon. He felt a sharp tug in his groin and realized that he was getting hard.

Devian cleared his throat, quickly turning away to face the stove. His cheeks felt warm. What the hell was his body doing? Dev stretched his hand out behind him and croaked, “Give me back my spoon.” She frowned. What was he so pissed about? Sara handed him the spoon and asked, “How did you learn to cook spaghetti? You’re doing all of this stuff for the first time. Right?” Back still to her, he shrugged. “It’s no great feat,” he replied, “I can read and follow a recipe. That’s all.” Sara suddenly thought of something else he had probably never done. “Jeez,” she mused, “Another thirty-something virgin and this one is probably horny as hell. I better keep that in mind and watch myself. Though, if the little shit tries anything, he’ll lose it before he can use it.” Aloud, she asked, “So, when do we eat?” He turned his head to throw her a quick glance. She noticed that his cheeks were really flushed. What was up with him anyway? “About half an hour,” he mumbled, “Do you want wine?” Sara nodded. She would need some wine to get her through the rest of this evening. God, she missed Ian so much. Dropping off the countertop, she said, “I’m going to go get a quick shower. Don’t think you’ve escaped, sparky. We’re going to have a long talk about your escapade with Vicki and your future conduct as we partake of your excellent spaghetti. Understand?”

Dev grunted. She stopped on her way out the door and turned back, hands on her hips again. “What did you say?” Sara asked, “I didn’t quite get that.” The clone turned to face her, a large pot full of water in his hands. He had been getting ready to make the pasta to go with the sauce. “Yeah,” he said, annoyed, “I understand. Go get your shower and stop bothering me.” Her eyes traveled south of the pot he held to take in the erection that was straining the crotch of the tight jeans. Sara’s eyes widened and her lips parted. Divining the direction of her gaze, Dev lowered the pot to hide his indiscretion. He blushed furiously, angry and frustrated with his body – which seemed to have a mind of its own. When she raised her eyes, he wouldn’t meet her gaze. Instead, the wide, golden eyes dropped, lush lashes shielding them. “That’s something else we better talk about over dinner,” she rasped, “Make that a big glass of wine.” Sara turned and stalked away toward the sleeping loft, Hannibal hot on her heels. Dev slammed the pot down on the stove and turned on the heat. So much for his idea of making a pleasant dinner to distract the Wielder from missing his brother. It now promised to be an Inquisition al dente, with an embarrassing discussion of his delayed puberty thrown in for good measure. “Shit,” he growled, wadding the dish towel into a ball and throwing it across the kitchen. He turned to find Hannibal, who had given up on waiting for Sara, staring at him from the kitchen doorway, head tilted. “What’s your problem?” he asked crossly. The big dog whined and slunk away toward the library. Both of the humans were acting crazy tonight and it was safer in there.

Dev was draining the cooked spaghetti when Sara reappeared in the kitchen doorway, clad in sweats and glowing from her shower. He didn’t turn. Back to her, he asked, “Might you deign to set the table?” She snorted. “No need to get snotty,” she observed. He grunted again. Great, he thought, now he was snotty. Deceitful, horny, and snotty – it sounded like a pricy law firm. Sara was placing the silverware when he brought the big bowl full of spaghetti and sauce to the table. He glanced at her, still having a problem meeting her eyes. “If you carry in the wine and glasses, I’ll get the salad and garlic bread,” he suggested. Sara saw no problem with that. “Why don’t I get the wine and glasses?” she asked, as if she had just thought of it. The clone’s sensual lips twitched. “Good idea,” he agreed. They settled in and ate the excellent meal that he had prepared. There was minimal conversation until the plates were empty. Dev was leaning back from the table, pleasantly full and drinking a second glass of wine, when Sara said, “You’ve created a real mess now because of your little adventure with Vicki last night, sparky.”

Devian studied her sourly with burning, golden eyes. He took a big swig of wine. “You led her to believe that you were Ian, sport. I had to dissuade her of that misconception. So, now she knows that Ian has a twin brother who was just in town for the night and who flew back home to China this morning.” The clone choked on his wine. One dark brow shot up. “China?” he asked, eyes now sparkling mischievously. Sara grimaced. “Hey, it was the farthest place that I could come up with on the spur of the moment,” she explained, “If she would have bought Jupiter, I would have sent you there. It’s a pity that it isn’t for real.” He tilted his head. “Why send me anywhere?” he asked. Sara sighed. “Because you’re supposed to be Ian, you idiot,” she hissed, “And I’m not thrilled with having my best friend think that my lover is cheating on me. Better that she think that Ian has a lunatic twin who plays games and unexpectedly jets in from China.” Dev briefly shut his eyes in exasperation. When he had collected himself, he replied, “No. That part of it, I get. What I mean is, why couldn’t I be Ian when I’m with you and myself when I’m with her?” Sara poured herself more wine. “Jeez,” she observed, “Like this whole situation isn’t complicated enough already. No, you want to make things ever harder. You want to take it to another level entirely. It sounds like the plot for an old episode of ‘I Love Lucy.’” Devian frowned. “What’s that?” he asked.

Sara sighed. “Never mind,” she responded, “It’s not important. What is important is that you back off from Vicki. You’re Ian. You treat her as if you were Ian – her landlord and my lover. Vicki is no fool. You give her any reason to suspect that you’re not Ian and the game is over. We’re in deep shit and you don’t collect your inheritance. Got it?” The clone blinked as he began stacking dishes. “Yeah,” he growled, “I’ve got it. I made the dinner. You clean it up.” She thought about smacking him. “Got it?” he threw back at her, grinning evilly. “Fine,” she agreed, tone chilly, “Why don’t you go out? Take in a movie or something. Give us both some peace.” He shook his head. “I think not. It’s cold outside,” he protested, “And there are lots of movies I haven’t seen right here. Besides, tomorrow night I have to be at the dojo teaching those stupid classes that Ian committed us to. I’m staying home tonight.” Sara studied him for a moment where he lounged in the chair sipping wine. Then, she stood and began picking up dirty dishes. She headed toward the kitchen, throwing over her shoulder, “This isn’t your home, sparky. You have no home. And I’m not your lady. Don’t forget that or I’ll make you sorrier than you can begin to imagine.” She disappeared into the kitchen and dishes started to clatter. “Why is she being such a bitch?” he wondered, “What did I do that was so terrible?” Okay, his body had gotten away from him a little but it wasn’t as if he had tried to jump her. And what had he done with Vicki that was so terrible? It was only a little kiss. Besides, she had liked it. He may not have had any experience but he had been able to tell that much.

Devian stood and threw her the bird. In the kitchen, dishes were still slamming together. He picked up the bottle of wine and his glass, and headed toward the library. After building up the fire, he hunkered down by the stack of DVDs to find a movie to watch. Still feeling a bit peckish, Dev searched for something with a bit of a kick to it, something to distract him from the strange emptiness he felt. He dug through all the movies once before sitting down on the floor, frustrated. Of course, it figured that they wouldn’t have anything resembling a porno flick in their collection. After all, they were all over each other all the time. They didn’t need to watch someone else do it when they fucked like bunnies themselves. Devian, on the other hand, was not getting any and did not look likely to be getting any in the foreseeable future. He wished he had brought one of the tapes with him from the mansion. He grinned ruefully, thinking of the episode in the kitchen. It would have been a real risk sneaking that tape out, but it would have been almost worth it. He sighed and went back through the DVDs. After reading the descriptions of likely films again, he settled on “Basic Instinct.” He put the film in the machine and poured himself some more wine. The film had just started when Sara stuck her head in the door to see what he was watching. As soon as she identified the movie, she said, “Figures.” Dev made a brief, annoyed sound but didn’t answer her.

Still in the doorway, Sara added, “I’m going for a swim and a soak in the hot tub. Stay clear.” Devian waved his glass at her, engrossed in the movie. The wine was almost gone and he was well on his way to getting drunk. “Yeah, yeah,” he replied, distracted, “Knock your socks off, Wielder.” She shook her head and moved off in the direction of the sleeping loft to get changed. The movie was just hot enough to get him more worked up but not raunchy enough to give him any release. Dev had finished the bottle of wine and his already questionable judgment and control were now even more erratic than normal. He turned off the television and DVD player before ambling toward the sleeping loft to see whether Sara had gone to bed. Hannibal had kept Dev company all night. The Rottie now followed the clone through the shadows spilling across the length of the loft. The bed was empty. If Dev had been thinking clearly, he might have had more sense than to climb the spiral staircase to the roof and weave his way along the path to the hot tub. Hannibal watched him go from the bottom of the stairs, whining softly as if in warning. Other than to growl a soft, “Quiet,” the clone ignored him. The first thing Dev saw when he rounded the high bushes surrounding the hot tub was Ian’s white, terry robe. It lay in a crumpled heap at the edge of the tub. Sara was asleep. She had seen no need to wear a bathing suit as she soaked. After all, she had warned the clone away. She expected him to obey her.

It was not as if Devian had never seen the Wielder naked. He had watched the tapes of her with Ian until he knew her body intimately, knew the exact location of every freckle and mole. It did not mean a thing. It was very different viewing her in the flesh at touching distance. The excess of wine had, unfortunately, had no effect on either his libido or his potency. Dev was fully, painfully erect in seconds. He suddenly found that it was hard to breathe. When he had watched Sara make love with Ian in the bed, in the shower, in the chair, on the counter, it was almost as if she were making love to him. Ian, after all, was his double. The clone had an excellent imagination but now he ached for some real, hands-on experience. He wanted Sara. He wanted her very badly. He wondered what would happen if he stripped down and got in the tub with her. Even drunk, he was not completely reckless. If he did that, Dev suspected that she might emasculate him with her fingernails or teeth. Perverse as he was, that thought only excited him further. He pulled the tee shirt over his head and dropped it to the roof. His unsteady hands moved to the fastenings on his jeans, undoing first the snap and then the zipper. Balance off, he almost fell when he pushed the pants over his slender hips and shimmied them down around his ankles. Naked now, he shivered in the artificial breeze that cooled the roof garden. Dev just managed not to trip over his own feet when he stepped out of his jeans.

Without the clothes that reflected an entirely different personality to distinguish him, Devian seemed much more like his brother. Undressed, it really was hard to tell the clone from the original – at least, until he opened his mouth to put his foot in it. While he stripped, Sara had slept on; head resting against the rim of the tub, eyes shut, lips slightly parted. She was definitely out, snoring softly. He climbed into the hot, bubbling water a bit clumsily and sat down hard opposite Sara, losing his balance again. With the intense concentration of the inebriated, Dev carefully stretched out his long legs to lean the outside of his right leg tight against the outside of Sara’s left leg. Although his thought processes were seriously impaired, he wasn’t crazy enough to make a move on the Wielder without her permission. Dev was, however, an optimist. He hoped he might get lucky. The contact of skin against skin dragged Sara to the edge of the pleasant dream that she was having of Ian. Still more asleep than awake, she cracked groggy, green eyes and there he was, sitting across from her in the hot tub, dressed only in a knowing smile. Caught in her dream, Sara smiled and in one liquid motion lifted her right leg to slide it between his and rubbed the sole of her foot against his swollen shaft.

Entirely new sensations slammed into Devian like a freight train. Thought blurred into waves of bright, primary colors. With a strangled cry, his hips arched up off of bottom of the tub as he pressed himself against her stroking foot. His hands clenched into fists, nails digging into his palms hard enough to draw blood. Eyes shut tight, head thrown back, the cords in his neck stood out from the erotic need that had captured his body. His sharp cry brought her fully awake but, for a moment, seeing the distinctive ring on his right hand, Sara still didn’t make the right connection. It was the bruise that had already started to darken on his chin the made everything come together. She yanked her foot away from him as if it had been scalded. Then, seeing red, she slammed the heel of that foot back into his exposed privates. Dev let out another loud yelp. There was nothing erotic about this one. It was a sound of pure pain and he doubled over on himself, gasping and moaning. He clung to the side of the tub, trying not to retch and fighting to stay above the water. Before he could even begin to recover, Sara was out of the tub and wrapping herself in the big, terry robe. “You’re fortunate that I’m a forgiving sort, you perverted bastard,” she railed, “If I wasn’t, I might just hack that thing off of you.” Still in too much pain to form coherent words, he just moaned again. “You ever try a stunt like this again, sparky,” she hissed, “And you will lose it before you even break it in. Do you understand me?”

Devian said something but his voice was so strained that Sara couldn’t understand him. “What?” she asked, scowling, arms folded across her chest. Still cradling his aching member in tender hands, he gasped, “I didn’t do anything. You touched me.” She smirked. “Oh yeah,” she agreed, “You came up here when I asked you not to and got into the tub with me naked just because you yearned for a nice bedtime soak. Right? And I’m supposed to believe that pile of crap?” He curled on to his side, still obviously in pain. “I don’t give a damn what you believe, Wielder,” he whispered petulantly, “Just leave me alone.” She studied him, calm now. “Here’s something to think about, Devian,” she said, “Until Ian is back home, other women are off limits to you because he wouldn’t cheat on me. And I have no intention of coming anywhere near you. So, if you want to get rid of that pesky virginity, it’s to your advantage to bring Ian home to me quickly. Clear?” He shifted in the water, wincing. “As crystal,” he mumbled, “I already promised to watch out for him and to end this as quickly as possible. It’s what I want too.” The excruciating pain had sobered him right up. Dev got out of the hot tub and Sara tossed him the towel that she had carried upstairs with her. “Cover up,” she ordered.

Instead, Devian caught the towel in his hand and stood there drying himself off, completely comfortable with his nakedness. Except for the lack of scars, his tall, perfectly-muscled body was identical to Ian’s. He was very beautiful. In spite of herself, Sara felt a sudden jolt of arousal. Abruptly, she turned and headed for the stairs. Sara yelled back over her shoulder, “You stay away from me, sparky. If you don’t, you won’t live to inherit.” He wrapped the towel around his narrow hips, managing to smile in spite of his throbbing groin. Dev had seen the way that she had ogled him. He had sensed her desire just as he had sensed Vicki’s lust the night before. “Oh well,” he thought, limping toward the stairway, “No true pleasure comes without a bit of pain.” He had read that somewhere. It looked like it was true.