Stef and I left our Chapel Hill hotel room early that night. It was nine o'clock, and barely even dark. The sky to the west still glowed with a faint orangish light. A bit dangerous, but what the fuck, right? I never said 'no' to a bit of danger when I was human, I'm sure as hell not going to start now.
"So, Bri," Stef said, draping one long arm over my shoulders, "where is it we're going?"
I stuck my hand in the back pocket of the jeans that barely clung to his hips and snuggled close, inhaling his warm, spicy scent. "Little club called the Local 506. That adorable girl at the front desk said it's the best place to go hear local music."
"Good enough."
"There's more."
"Oh, yes?"
"Yeah." I stopped walking and stood on tiptoe to whisper in Stef's ear. "It's also a donor club."
Stef's eyes gleamed. "Good. I'm starved."
I suppose I should explain that. Stefan and I are vampires. Thom Yorke turned me only a few months ago, at the BDSM club where we're both members. Yes, Thom's a vampire. Yes, Jonny Greenwood is too. And yes, they're lovers. They fuck nearly as much as me and Stef.
First thing I did after I joined the ranks of the undead, of course, was turn Stef. What would eternity be without my Steffy? Thom was furious. But he got over it, just like I knew he would. He and Jonny became our mentors, and taught us how to be what we'd become. They're the ones who told me that the Local 506 was a donor club; that is, a place where vampires can go and find people willing to give their blood. Not that it's a huge hardship. A vampire's bite is literally orgasmic, unless it's forced. I hope never to have to do that. I only like pain when I'm the one getting it.
Thommy worried about us going to America alone, bless him. Brian, he said, you're still a baby vampire; you need my help. He said not one word about Stef needing help. I did not point out that Steffy was more of a baby even than me. It wouldn't have helped. Evidently even sadomasochistic vampires think I need looking after, while Stef can clearly handle anything.
It's actually more the opposite, but you can't tell people that. I'm little and delicate and pretty, and Stef is tall and regal and a bit menacing at times. Very few people ever try to look beyond that. Only a handful know how tender hearted Stef really is, or how many times I've gotten my hotheaded arse kicked making people regret hurting him.
Local 506 turned out to be just the sort of place I loved to go as a kid in high school, flashing my fake I.D. around and occasionally blowing a bouncer to get in. We paid our three dollars each to the dreadlocked young man at the door and walked into a club that was larger than it looked from the outside. The black walls were painted with colorful murals, and the dim, smoky light played over a fair crowd of hippies and Goths. They all looked young and sweet and delicious. My mouth watered.
The shine in Stef's eyes told me he felt it too. "I can smell them." He pushed me against a black metal pole near one wall, shoving his thigh between my legs. "Fuck, it's turning me on."
I reached up and tugged his face down for a kiss. "Me too." I bit his bottom lip and lapped at the drop of blood that welled up. A wave of pleasure washed through me. I felt its echo in Steffy's mind. "Wonder if we'd get kicked out if you fucked me across the bar?"
Stef giggled. He's so outrageously cute when he does that, it kills me. "Probably. Funny, I seem to remember fucking you just before we left to come here."
"You did, yes. Your cum's still leaking out of my arse, actually." I rubbed my groin against his thigh.
"Oh, dear. That'll stain the leather for sure." He plucked sadly at my black leather trousers.
"Don't care. I like how the leather feels against my bum when it's all sticky with Steffy juice." I tweaked his nipple through his sheer black shirt. "Want you to keep my arse nice and stretched and sticky all the time."
"Insatiable little bastard."
"Absolutely."
He laughed, cupped my cheek in his big, warm palm, and kissed me, very gently. "I love you, Brian."
Oh, god. That look in his eyes, hot and sweet and hungry. "And I love you, my Stefan. Mine."
"Yours. Always."
He held me, still astride his thigh, my arms locked around his neck, and we lost ourselves in a deep, deep kiss. The world fell away, the noise of the crowded bar fading to static as our souls intertwined along with our tongues.
On the far side of death and rebirth, every touch, every kiss, every joining of our physical selves, becomes a melding of mind and heart and soul as well. Oddly enough, it actually makes it easier to be apart from one another. Because we're never truly apart. I can feel Stefan in the core of me, all the time. I feel so completely at peace, knowing a part of him lives inside me, as a part of me lives in him.
We were so caught up in each other that we didn't even notice the first band take the stage. We sure as hell noticed when they started playing, though. It sounded for all the world like a guitar would if it were alive and being tortured with exquisite pleasure. That probably doesn't make any sense, but it's the best I can do. There's absolutely no explaining the crazed electric shriek that tore from that instrument.
Stef and I both looked up at the same time. Through the heads of the crowd that had thickened around us, I could just make out a slender, black-clad figure at the mic, wild ebony curls falling over a milky pale face.
"Hi," the figure said. "Thanks to all of y'all for coming out tonight. We're Blood And Fire, I hope you like our show."
The boy's soft voice tasted honey sweet on my tongue, his words thickened by a faint Southern accent. I looked up at Stef; he smiled.
"Young," Stef said, in answer to my unspoken question. I could hear him just fine, in spite of the music that screeched its delightfully twisted rhythm from the speakers. "Must be at least twenty-one, or he couldn't play here. But no more than that. And awfully fucking pretty." He laced his fingers through mine and started pulling me toward the front. "Come on, let's get you closer to the stage. You don't want to miss this one."
I smiled at Stef's back. He always takes such good care of me.
The bar was crowded, but not so packed that we couldn't get through. And no one seemed to mind us cutting. Stef found us a spot at the front, toward the side so that I could see but he wouldn't block anyone else's view. That's my Stef. So sweet and caring toward everyone, even the ones he feeds on. Especially them.
I lifted my face to Stef's. He kissed me, light and quick, caressing my cheek, then wound his arms around my waist and held me against his chest. I leaned back against him and focused my attention on the stage.
"Oh, fuck me," I muttered under my breath. God, but this boy practically making love to the mic was fucking gorgeous.
Those disheveled curls, long in front and shorter in back, brushed a wide, sensual mouth and delicate jaw, and veiled a pair of big, dark eyes that promised sin in the dark. He threw his head back and wailed into the mic, that soft voice becoming powerfully sexual. Only Stef's arms around me stopped me from jumping on stage and sinking my fangs into that white throat. I wanted to lick my way down the trail of dark hair over that flat belly, down to the visible bulge in those snug black trousers. And the way the boy moved... Christ. He writhed like a snake, wickedly graceful.
It actually took me several minutes to notice the tattoo. A thick black band circling one slender wrist. I reached out with my mind, and knew that Stef had seen it too.
The sign of a blood donor. We'd just found our evening meal.
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Blood And Fire's set lasted an eon, yet ended much too quickly. Time itself paused to watch the boy on stage. Everything about him bewitched me: his unusual voice, his way his body translated the primitive rhythms of their music, his beauty that managed to be both innocent and blatantly sexual.
He spotted me and Stef right away. How he knew what we were, I have no idea. But he clearly did. His eyes locked with mine; he smiled in a way that made me ache and slowly licked the inside of his tattooed wrist. I ignored the wild screaming of the girls in the audience. I knew that gesture was for me and my Stef. Telling us he was ours. I smiled back at him, running the tip of my tongue over my fangs. Those dark eyes grew heavy.
He came right to us once the set was over and the band had taken down their equipment. That slinky, sexy stroll made my cock swell and rub deliciously against the leather encasing it. I hadn't worn underwear; I never do when I wear leather. Especially now. Enhanced sensation is an unexpected but thoroughly delightful side effect of vampirism.
"I got a place down the street," the boy said, without so much as a hello. "We can go there."
I felt Stef's amusement in my mind, mixed with a desire nearly as strong as my own. But for Steffy, it wasn't a sexual desire this time. He just wanted the boy's blood. Disappointing, but not a huge problem. Wouldn't be the first time he'd contented himself with simply watching.
"Can't we get to know each other a bit first?" I reached out and took one of the boy's long, delicate hands in both of mine. "I'm Brian. Lovely to meet you."
"Yeah, I know who you are. Brian Molko and Stefan Olsdal. I'm a big fan." God, but the child had a lovely voice.
"What's your name, pretty?" I stepped a little closer, keeping hold of his hand, and gave him my very best sexy smile. Those sweet lips parted, his breath running out in a soft sigh. God, I'm good.
"Damien," the boy said.
Stef laughed. "That's not your real name."
Damien's eyes cut from me to Steffy and back again. He grinned. "Nope."
"Why won't you tell us your real name? Don't you trust us?" I pouted at him.
"Any reason I should?" He took a long swallow out of the water bottle he held, eyes never leaving mine.
"Absolutely not." I gave him an evil grin. "All right, Damien. Let's go to your place then."
At that moment another boy wandered over. I vaguely recognized him as the band's drummer. I hadn't noticed before, though, that these boys were twins. The drummer's hair was straight rather than curly, but other than that they looked exactly alike. There was something about this one, though; something that screamed 'sweet and innocent' in the same way that his brother radiated that dark sexuality.
