His Voice on the Radio

Chapter 2

Toronto by night had a vibe, a pulsing energy that ran though the cities streets. There was no fear in its citizens. Not tonight. A full moon reigned overhead. I was actually lulled by the city noises—cars rushing by on the expressway, the clamor of thousands of people. This was a different city. Not one I would have expected. I did not feel closed in.

I sensed a strong presence of my kind that night. There were many of us living in these city walls. But they were so young to me. Only a few hundred years or even less. Children. They kept their distance. They knew I was old and not to be approached. I surprised a small group by coming up and asking them where the Raven was. They told me, eyes wide with awe. I thanked them and moved down the street, their whispers on my back. I couldn’t help but smile.

With my backpack slung over my shoulder I did stand out of the clientele that was going into the Raven. I watched it from across the street. It was an odd subculture, the punk rockers and the goths. They tattooed and pierced any piece of flesh they could. Ripped up their clothes and forgot all about colour. Then there was myself in my jeans, hoodie jacket and a soft leather jacket. But no matter our vastly different tastes in apparel, we were still kin. They would appeal to Lucien. Disillusioned children ready to flock around a savior father figure.

As I walked towards the club I admired a vintage light blue caddy parked on the curb. It was in perfect condition. Marvelous how some things never changed. The bouncer looked at me but let me through. The light was harsh, music loud and angry to my ears. Most paid me no heed. I was thankful for the anonymity.

I saw him standing by the bar, dressed all in black that made his profile all the more striking. It made his blood hair, now cut very short, stand out even more. He seemed taller, though I know that was impossible. Standing next to him, at a distance that suggested more intimacy then his stiff posture depicted, was a ginger haired man. It dawned on me instantly that he was Lucien’s child. My brother. I never asked Lucien if he had made others. I was glad he had.

I walked toward them, a small smile on my face. This was going to be very interesting indeed. They seemed to be in disagreement. Lucien was showing exasperation and the other, I caught his name when Lucien gave it, Nicolas, was frustrated. There was a great tension between them. Neither one seemed to be saying just what they wanted. There was a pause in their conversation and then they both finally sensed my approach.

“Hello, Lucien.” I smiled at his shock. Nicolas is confused. I would be too. There is much that he has kept from his children, I gather. Perhaps Nicolas as asked about having other brothers or sisters. Perhaps Lucien has lied.

“Ah, Nicolas, this is Casey.” He gestured to me.

“Hi, nice to meet you.” I reached out and shook Nicolas’ hand.

“You called him Lucien?” He replied back to me.

“That’s who he is.”

“I told you it’s LaCroix now.” Lucien snapped, but there was no venom in it.

“Yes, you told me. But Lucien is who you ARE.” We eyed each other. For the first time I thought he was not happy to see me. But then again, we’d never been around each other when another of his children were present. This was going to be very fun.

“How did you know that I was here?” Lucien asked.

“I was driving around up north of here. I heard your radio show. I could say a lot about it, but I think we can save that for later.”

“I see.”

I gave him a flirty smile, “Do you?” I turned my attention to Nicolas. “So, Nicolas, what do you in this enchanting city?”

“Nick. I’m a homicide detective.”

“Nick. I like that. Homicide? Fascinating.” I moved closer to him, ignoring Lucien and knowing what effect that had on him. I love to make him jealous. “Are you going to be their savior or ours?”

He gave me a half grin that would make me go weak at the knees, if I was interested in him. It wouldn’t hurt to make Lucien THINK I was, would it? “That remains to be seen,” he said.

“Well, we should get together sometime. Drive me around in your cop car...show me the city.”

He looked at Lucien first before looking back at me. “Ah, sure. I really should be going. Duty calls.” Neither one of us stopped him.

I turned to Lucien with a smug smile. He looked like a perturbed cat. “Oh, come on now, Lucien. Don’t be like that.” I edged closer to him. “You know how the game is played. Or have you forgotten? Want me to remind you?” I ran my fingers down the side of his face. “I like the hair. Very....dominant.”

He snatched my hand away from his face only to bring it back to his lips. I felt the brush of his tongue and the sharp nip of one of his fangs as he drew blood. I let out a little gasp of pleasure. The smile on his lips was as razor—sharp and deadly as his fangs. It made my heart beat just seeing it.

He dropped my hand, turned, and stalked off into the darkness of the club. I followed behind him, there was no reason for any pretenses. He lead me up a set of stairs and into a very sleek looking flat. He sat down on a leather sofa, crossed his legs and leaned back to watch me. He wanted a little show.

I set my backpack down on the wood floor. Using the grace and agility I had acquired though the centuries, I slipped out of my footwear. My leather jacket slid off my shoulders and was placed gently on a nearby chair. I deposited the rest of my clothes, sans my jeans, on the floor in a pile. Lucien has a thing about me being topless.

“Come here.” His voice was a command that could not be countered.

I walked across that room swathed in all the sensuality that I possessed. I slid into his lap, straddling his hips and thighs. His hand wound its way into my hair, clenching it tight as he brutally smashed our mouths together. I submitted to the devouring. We were both ravenous and I wondered, faintly, when was the last time he’d had sex like this. His kisses were strong, forceful as he plundered my mouth. His fangs scrapped against my tongue and I thrust it inside his mouth with equal force. I wrapped my arms around his neck, arching my body towards him. I could not stop the small gasps that escaped my throat. This desire was incredible. I felt as if he would burn me alive and I loved and welcomed every second of it.

His hand was stroking my hip through my jeans and I thrust them against him. I was happy to feel a familiar hardness in response. He raked his finger nails up the side of my chest, leaving little lines of blood and I couldn’t suppress a cry of pleasure.

He left my mouth for my jaw, biting my skin as he went down. I shivered and arched my neck back in invitation. “Please, Lucien.” I whispered.

He tugged on my jeans and I fumbled to undo them, loosing all sense of dexterity in my need. He wasn’t making it any easier. I could feel his fangs against my skin but not hard enough to break the skin. Each graze was sending shocks of pleasure though my body, tingling every nerve. One more yank and my jeans were divested of me and my undergarment went quickly as well.

His hands went for my buttocks, digging into the flesh, making me dizzy. The feeling of flesh against clothe was agitating. I thrust up against him and buried my face in his neck. I licked at his skin, tasting the bloodsweat of his skin. My hands slid down his body, one pinched a nipple though his shirt. He stiffened and let out a grunt from the pain, but there was approval in his eyes.

My hands went further down to the crotch of his trousers. I did not rush. I teased him as much as he had teased me earlier. He retaliated by rubbing a finger across my entrance.

“Oh, GOD, Lucien...” I moaned.

A soft chuckle. “Do you want me to prep you?” I heard him purr into my hear.

“No. Please...”

“No?” He ran a few fingers up my crease. It was one of my most sensitive spots. I let out a cry, my toes curled as I forced myself not to cum. “So soon?”

“Smug bastard,” I hissed.

I felt him spread by buttocks apart and with one swift thrust he buried his cock inside of me. I could not repress a scream this time. It was pain, burning deep inside of me. But it felt so good. I was sweating too now. He let me adjust for a few seconds before he pulled his hips back and thrust inside again. This time I was ready for it. I shifted my own hips and his cock brushed against that wonderful spot. I let out a moan and clung to him, moving my hips and rubbing myself against him.

His tongue latched onto one of my nipples, teasing it to the point of pain. I wasn’t going to be able to take much more. With each thrust he hit that spot. I could feel that wave building inside of me. I dug my nails into his back, ripping his shirt. “Lucien...oh, god...” I let out another gasp as he sank his fangs into my chest. That pushed me over. I let out another cry, back arching, as I came.

I felt a warm gush inside of me as he came from drinking my blood. I let out a sigh as my body collapsed against his.

His tongue licked at the gouge he took out of me and I could already feel it healing. Then Lucien did one thing he almost never did after sex. He kissed me.

Early on there had been some rules established. It was fine to kiss before and during sex, but NOT after. That rule had been broken only a few times and it sure as hell wasn’t by me. I tried it once and he got upset. I wondered why he was quick to excite this time. He’d been almost eager. Maybe it hadn’t been me he wished to be fucking. Maybe he thought it was someone else. Maybe he wished it was my brother.

The kissed ended and the moment was over.

“Miss me, lover?” I slid off of him before he asked it.

He couldn’t deny it was what he wanted. But saying “lover” just got to him. It was so wonderful the way we pushed each other’s buttons. He gave me a little scoffing noise and stood up.

“Been awhile, hasn’t it? Over two hundred years. Our longest run yet.” I stretched, very satisfied. “This will hold me for...hmmm...a week? You were almost gentle with me, I’m touched.”

“You ripped my shirt,” he said, looking in a mirror. He gave me a stern look that was supposed to be menacing. But it had no affect on me. They never did.

“Put it on my tab.” I stood up. “Mind if I use your bathroom?” He gave a sharp gesture to a door off the living space.

“Be quick.”

I ducked inside, took a quick shower to clean myself up and popped out in five minutes. Lucien was sitting back on the cleaned sofa with a glass of blood. There was another glass sitting on the coffee table. I scooped it up and downed it. “Thanks.” I picked up my clothes and began dressing.

“In a hurry?” He drawled, eyes watching my every move. I lost modesty a long time ago.

“You said ‘Be quick’,” I said with a shrug. “But I have someone to meet tonight.”

“Oh, really? Who’s that.”

“Nicolas.”

“You wouldn’t.” Just the barest hint of a challenge. Or a threat.

“Oh, yes. It’ll be fun. We can talk trash about you and exchange dirty little secrets about you. Like just how you—”

“Enough.”

“Yes, father dearest. Whatever you say...daddy.”

“Good little children KNOW when to stop while they still have a head.”

“But I’ve never been a good little child, HAVE I?” I gave him a cute smirk. “Oh, that’s right. You wouldn’t know. You haven’t been there. Don’t worry, I’m sure you’re reputation can take our little banter.” I finished dressing and slung my backpack over my shoulder.

“See you around, Lucien.” I blew him a kiss.

“LACROIX!” He snarled.

I didn’t turn around and just breezed out of the room. He didn’t follow after me.