Possession

Chapter 3

As LaCroix stepped into one of his private rooms, Nick spun, growling, ready to pounce. His eyes were more red than gold, and a thick line of blood ran from each corner of his mouth. Only one small lamp burned in the corner, its dim halo not quite reaching the far side of the room. An empty bottle lay on the floor.

LaCroix held out one of the replacements he'd brought and Nick grabbed at it, nearly knocking it from his benefactor's hand. He tore out the cork with his teeth, spat it away, and gulped down the rich, sustaining, human blood.

LaCroix sauntered across the room and casually seated himself on the edge of his bed, waiting for Nicholas to sate his thirst. He watched as his son tossed the empty bottle to the side where it clinked against the wall and rained bits of glass onto the carpet. As Nick snarled and lunged for the last bottle, LaCroix calmly pulled it out of his reach.

"Tsk, tsk, tsk, Nicholas. Mes-sy." He regarded the broken glass on the floor, then looked at Nicholas.

The elder vampire stood, and slowly offered the bottle to his impatient son. Nick yanked it from LaCroix' grasp and downed over half its contents before he stopped. Wiping at his mouth with the back of his hand, he looked at the tall, black-clad figure in front of him and immediately regretted his decision to come here.

LaCroix was enjoying this.

Nick had seen this smile, this expression, so many times. LaCroix' usually blue eyes seemed tinged with smoke as they regarded him from beneath heavy lids. The vampire's tongue appeared and slid over his full bottom lip. His smile looked slightly dangerous, completely sensuous, and totally smug. But most of all, it looked hungry.

That simmering smile planted a matching hunger in Nicholas, a sharp desire to devour the mouth before him and to feel his rattled nerves explode against LaCroix' smooth flesh. He wanted to drink the heady blood that had once formed his being, to revel in its healing essence and its ancient power. Nicholas fought against that desire, but like the need for human blood just moments ago, he was defeated before he began.

Nick tried to slow his breathing, tried to calm the too-obvious quiver in his every movement that LaCroix had, no doubt, already noticed.

"Better?" LaCroix asked, sounding amused yet genuinely concerned.

Nick nodded his head, sucking in air through his flared nostrils. "Mm hmph." He wanted nothing more than to run away and hide. It was bad enough that LaCroix had seen him weak and helpless with his need for blood, but for LaCroix to know that Nick's sexual need for him was twisting his insides . . . .

LaCroix shook his head, his smile disappearing. "I've warned you about such things, Nicholas, time and time again. I suppose this little occurrence is the result of starving yourself?"

Nick's eyes were drawn to the perfect, milky column of his master's throat.

When Nick didn't respond, LaCroix sighed and continued. "You were not meant to survive on cow's blood. You are not a carouche, after all. They don't, they can't, appreciate blood the way we do."

As LaCroix spoke more rapidly, his neck muscles moving in tandem, a surge of excitement rippled through Nicholas.

"Part of the feeding is feeling the life in the blood. Through the blood. The person's passions and loves, talents, desires, dreams, fears, even despair. The sensations are more intense when you drink directly from the person, much more so than from the bottled variety, but they are still there." A righteous anger built behind LaCroix' eyes. "Knowing this, how can you expect to get any kind of fulfillment by drinking from a cow?"

Nick had stopped listening and was now intrigued by the very slight flush that crept up LaCroix' neck and face. His master grew more animated by the second.

"What is it that you feel while drinking bovine, after all? Farmer Brown pulling at your teats while you graze and fill the air with methane gas?" LaCroix laughed humorlessly. "Oh Nicholas, it's no wonder you're at a breaking point. There's so much more to feeding than just not being hungry. It's the total exp--"

Nick threw himself into LaCroix, wrapping one hand around the back of his father's neck and circling a frantic arm around his waist. Impacting with the wall, LaCroix grunted, then cried out as his head was snapped to the side and Nicholas struck, viper-quick. His son sucked greedily, muffled sounds escaping from his throat between swallows.

LaCroix' blood filled Nicholas, its intoxicating richness and power quickening his body and his mind. The thick liquid coursed through his veins, lighting every nerve on its path, warming every spot of flesh. His skin tingled and pulsed as his deprived body demanded its due.

Nick heard LaCroix' sharp intake of breath as he released his waist and roughly cupped the pinned vampire's hardening crotch. He slowed his drinking, finally only lapping at the dark wounds, as he rubbed and pulled at the bulge in LaCroix' pants, grinding his own stiffness against his master's hip.

Nick licked up the length of LaCroix' neck and circled behind his ear before he nibbled and sucked at the earlobe. He felt LaCroix pressing his restrained erection forward, even harder, against his hand. As his heavy breaths puffed into LaCroix' ear, he was rewarded with his master's low growl of approval.

"Ah yes, Nicho--"

Nicholas cut him off, covering LaCroix' mouth with his own, sucking at his master's lips and tongue, all gentleness cast aside. His need was raw and electric, orchestrating every move and sensation. He felt LaCroix' tongue twist back with equal force and a surge of pleasure jumped down his spine, driving his passion higher. He bathed LaCroix' chin and jaw, and suckled the front of his master's throat.

"Oui, mon fils."

Nick froze at the words, the realization of what he was doing, and why, extinguishing his fire. He lurched backwards away from LaCroix, half-sobbing, shaking his head in shock and horror.

"No! What am I doing? I'm sorry, something's wrong."

LaCroix looked as shocked as Nicholas felt. He swallowed and straightened himself, the frustration apparent on his face. "Wrong?"

"This isn't . . . I can't control it. It's not me."

LaCroix' expression turned grim. "Well, then. Isn't this familiar?" He brushed at the front of his shirt and spoke slowly. "If it isn't you, who do you suppose it to be?"

"The demon."

"The demon? Ah yes, the demon." LaCroix took on a long-suffering look and sighed. "Nicholas . . . ." He looked as if he were going to continue, but then the corners of his mouth turned up and he laughed--a hollow, harsh sound. When he stopped, the grim expression returned.

"This demon was exorcised, was it not?"

Nick nodded. "Yes, but part of it's still within me."

"Demonic," LaCroix raised both eyebrows and slightly cocked his head, "residue?"

Nick brightened. Maybe LaCroix would understand after all. "Yes! Or--or--or a fingerprint of sorts. Part of it's still here," Nick tapped his chest, "and I can't control its influence over me. I'm thinking, doing things, that I don't want to do."

"Really?" LaCroix sounded highly amused.

"I almost killed tonight." Nick watched LaCroix' expression turn serious, the elder vampire's jaw muscles working underneath the pale skin. "She was just standing there, and it would have been so easy to get her alone. And imagining it was more vivid than a real memory."

LaCroix lowered his head and looked up at Nicholas from beneath hooded lids. "So that's what I felt coming from you."

Nick nodded and looked away. "I could feel her heat, and her blood in my mouth as if it were happening, and it--" Nick's voice cracked as he fought tears. "I almost convinced myself--I almost took her."

"Yessss," LaCroix said. As Nick looked at him, confused, the elder man whispered, a dark edge to his voice: "It was exquisite."

Nick wanted to strike out at LaCroix, but he couldn't muster the energy. "No, you don't understand."

"I understand perfectly. You think, in essence, that the devil made you do it." A bitter smile graced LaCroix' face. "Oh, Nicholas. You're more human than you allow yourself to believe."

"I had--I had control before. It's the demon's influence, LaCroix! I didn't feel this way until the demon came into me." Nick took a few steps backward and collapsed into a plush chair.

"Yes." LaCroix stepped forward, stopping directly in front of Nicholas. "You did."

Nick shook his head and avoided LaCroix' piercing blue eyes.

"It was always there, Nicholas. You know that. It's been there for almost 800 years."

Nick stared at a spot directly above LaCroix' right knee, trying to think of a counter argument. "I've been able to control it for so long--"

Calmly, LaCroix continued. "Desire, missed opportunities, needs you've neglected, all stacked on top of one another for so many years. Now a," LaCroix pressed his eyes shut as he said the word, "demon has come along and toppled your little tower of denial. It didn't leave anything that wasn't already there; all it did was bring your own needs and desires to the fore, Nicholas. They're yours. The only difference now is your inability to deny yourself of them."

LaCroix paused, then grabbed Nick's chin, forcing their eyes to meet. "Why did you come here?"

"You know why." A beat. "I needed bloo--"

"I know this demon has fueled your natural need for blood. That much is evident. But why did you come here, to my room? My office affords privacy, a couch where you could rest, a vintage supply. If you came here only for human blood, why not go there?"

Nick tried to jerk his chin free of LaCroix' gasp, but the older vampire held tight. Nick had no answer.

LaCroix released Nick's chin and brushed the back of his fingers up the side of his son's face. "Because this is what you desire." He ran his thumb over Nick's lips. "And you can only allow yourself the pleasure as long as you're convinced it really isn't your doing."

Nick gasped as LaCroix' fingers twined in his hair, jerking his head to the side, as he bent over and tongued the length of Nicholas' neck. Nick's cock hardened instantly from the unexpected caress, but as quickly as it happened, LaCroix released his grip on his son's hair and stepped back.

"See?" LaCroix regarded the bulge between Nicholas' legs. "We need what we need, Nicholas. You've had your fill of human blood just now, yet you still feel out of control. And given your recent behavior, it's obvious that you can't go on feeling this way." LaCroix' face softened and he offered his hand. His voice came out in a low whisper that sent chills through Nicholas.

"You must have some sort of release."

Nicholas looked at LaCroix' outstretched hand for several tense seconds. Finally, his eyes met the cool blue ones that looked down at him and he hesitantly clasped his father's hand in his own. LaCroix helped Nicholas rise from the chair and led him across the semi-dark room to his large bed, his eyes barely leaving Nicholas' face the entire time.

LaCroix swiftly pulled back the thick covers and, almost as an afterthought, he smoothed the sheet with his hand. He positioned Nicholas between himself and the bed and gently pushed down on his tight shoulders until his son was seated before him.

"And I insist on providing it."

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End Chapter 3 of 4

Cousin Shelley
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