Encounters With Evil Pt 04

"It's not going to cure you, Salt. It's just going to take the edge off. We can't give you anything stronger without compromising your effectiveness as a field agent."

Guy was perched on the edge of his chair in a small sitting room at EERIE headquarters. He was too keyed up to relax. He wanted to pace back and forth, but the room was so tiny it precluded that. He stared at the miniscule pink pill in his hand. "I don't like doing drugs," he grumbled.

"It's your choice, of course. My recommendation is that we move Melvin to a different safe house."

"No!" Guy's voice was louder than he expected. He wanted to glare at Ed, but as always, his elusive boss was not physically present. "He needs to stay with me." He popped the pill into his mouth and swallowed.

I hope to hell this works.

He had called Ed shortly after his retreat from Mel and begged him for help with the overwhelming feelings of lust he was having toward the young man. He didn't trust himself to not to do something disastrous.

His obsession with Mel was taking its toll. He couldn't focus on work; perhaps it was a blessing that the vampire seemed to have dropped off the face of the earth. He was so strung out on Mel pheromones, he was afraid that if he did run into Valjevo, he wouldn't be able to fight. He wasn't sleeping well, and there was a constant gnawing in his gut that had never been there before. The only time his skin wasn't crawling was when he was with Mel, but perhaps that was because when he was with the beautiful young man, the only thoughts in his head were, "Mine, mine, mine!" and "Fuck him NOW!"

"We also made a tracker for Mel," Ed continued.

"It won't work in the house," Guy reminded him.

"Yes, I know that." Ed had no patience with stupidity, and it was apparent in his voice that Guy was being obtuse. "This is just in case something happens and we need to get him out of your house. Or if Valjevo figures out where he's at and kidnaps him, we'll at least have a way to find him."

Of course. I should have thought of that. My brain is scrambled. That boy has me every which way but right-side-up.

"It's on the table to your left," Ed was saying.

Guy looked on the indicated end table and saw two things, a gold crucifix on a sturdy chain and a thumb drive. He picked up the crucifix, turning it over in his hands. There was no sign of the miniature tracking device that Guy knew must be hidden in it. "Very funny, Ed. What if he doesn't want to wear it? I have no idea if he's even Christian."

"I'm sure you'll think of something," Ed said dryly.

Guy picked up the thumb drive. "I'm assuming that this is the contents of his hard drive?" Mel's computer had been snapped in half by Valjevo during his rampage but not completely destroyed.

"Yes, Bobby managed to get everything off of it, so he's got his files back at least. That boy is a serious geek."

Guy felt a throbbing in his temple and knew that the bulging vein there would indicate to Ed that he was intensely irritated with him for going through Mel's files. Even remote, Ed missed nothing. "He doesn't work for you, you know. You don't have the right to paw through his personal stuff."

"Since when have I followed the rules? I'll use every piece of information I can get if it gives me an edge in fighting these demons. You know that, Salt. You signed up anyway."

"Yes, I signed up. Mel has not. Leave him and his stuff alone."

"He's actually quite brilliant, you know. He could make a great addition to our team."

"No! Absolutely not!"

"It's his decision, not yours."

Guy had no idea what Ed actually looked like, but he'd talked to him so much over the past twelve years he'd developed a firm picture in his mind of a small man in his forties who was thin but wiry. At Ed's words, Guy's vision went red. If his boss had been standing in the room with him, Guy was sure his big hands would be around Ed's scrawny neck, squeezing.

"Christ, Guy! Your blood pressure just went off the charts. You need to calm down."

"How do you know about my blood pressure?" Guy asked taking a deep breath to calm himself.

"We're doing amazing things with technology these days. You'd be surprised what I can find out about a person."

"Well, leave Mel out of it. I don't want you recruiting him. I don't want you talking to him. I don't even want you looking at him—or at any of his stuff."

"Sheesh! Possessive much?"

He's mine!

Guy almost growled that out loud. It was luck more than anything that allowed him to bite his tongue. He scowled fiercely.

"Don't worry. I won't say anything to Mel just yet," Ed assured him. "He can't help us while Valjevo is so bent on getting to him anyway."

This time a growl did come out, from deep in Guy's throat. "Valjevo!" He said the vampire's name like a cuss word. "Haven't you found anything I can go on yet? I know he's still here in the area."

"We're working on it, Salt."

*****

Tigger ran the silk of Guy's briefs through his fingers. Heat washed through his body and he felt his cock start to plump.

Shit! I have to get these back to Guy before they need to be washed again.

It had been two days since he had christened Guy's underwear in the aftermath of that unbelievable kiss, and now they were fresh from the dryer. It was late in the evening; Guy was out vampire-hunting, and Consuela had long since gone home—he hoped.

He tiptoed across the hall to the door of Guy's room, wondering why he was bothering to be quiet. He managed to keep himself from knocking. Instead he cracked the door slightly, fumbled for the light switch, and peeked inside.

Guy's room was restful. The furniture was sleek and black with clean lines. One wall was turquoise, a color that was picked up by the pillows on the bed and a couple of wing-back chairs. Stepping into the room, he saw that there was a beautifully painted mural of a sunset over a tropical beach on one wall. The opposite wall was all window with a view of the dark lake, and another wall was almost entirely mirrored.

The bed was made and everything seemed to be in its place. Tigger wondered if that was Consuela's doing or if Guy was naturally neat. He eyed the bureau. One of the drawers should hold Guy's underwear; he needed to the get the pair in his hand back to its mates. His hands shook slightly as he opened the top drawer on the left-hand side.

Holy shit!

Tigger stared at the contents of the drawer, his heart pounding loudly in his ears. The first thing he noticed was the handcuffs. They were standard, metal, police-issued cuffs and were nestled next to some leather cuffs and lengths of soft-looking rope. His wide eyes wandered to the butt plugs, all lined up neatly in order of size. The largest several looked huge. There were a couple of colorful vibrators, an assortment of cock rings and nipple clamps, and an odd-looking contraption that Tigger guessed was a cock cage. His hand reached out and hovered over the device. As soon as he realized that he was about to pick it up and examine it, he jerked his hand away as if he'd been burned and slammed the drawer shut.

He stood for a moment panting, his body flushed with heat. His cock had become instantly stone hard.

Damn!

He could not keep his imagination from running wild with thoughts of what Guy could do to him with all that stuff.

In a daze, he quickly pulled open the next drawer down. The contents of that drawer caused him to sink to his knees, gasping. Several whips lay on top of some coiled chains. On one side was a tall stack of magazines. The cover of the top one depicted a huge man dressed all in leather, brandishing a long whip. He was standing in front of a smaller naked man who was chained to large wooden structure. Tigger stared at the picture.

Do people really do that?

His eyes wandered to the whips. He could not stop himself from reaching out and fingering the cat-o-nine-tails. It was surprisingly soft, the falls being made of a velvety fabric instead of leather or rope. Tigger wondered if it would even hurt. Some of the other implements in the drawer looked like they would definitely hurt. There was a paddle off to one side, and in the back Tigger spotted what looked like a riding crop. His cock was making puddles of precum in his underwear.

With a whimper he yanked his sweats down, dropped the silk briefs off to the side, and grabbed his leaking staff. Using the clear flow as a lubricant, he started a quick rhythm. From his position on his knees on the floor of Guy's bedroom, he looked at the bed through lust-slit eyes and noticed that there were large eyehooks screwed into the wooden frame of both the head and footboards. His brain immediately supplied a vision of himself chained spread-eagled on the bed while Guy attached nipple clamps.

A wail of need came out of his mouth. His whole body shuddered as stars shimmered at the edge of his vision. Ecstasy washed over him, starting in his balls and spreading out, flowing down his limbs and taking away awareness of everything except intense pleasure.

When his orgasm finally faded, he found himself sitting on the floor of Guy's bedroom, fighting to get air into his lungs. The polished oak was liberally spattered with his cooling jism.

Oh God!

He had been so turned on by the things he'd seen in the drawers that it had taken less than thirty seconds for him to beat himself off.

I can't believe I jacked myself in Guy's bedroom. How pathetic is that?

He climbed to wobbly feet, closed the drawer with the whips and chains, and tucked his cock back into his sopping underwear. His sweats weren't much drier. Staggering into the bathroom, he wet a washcloth and returned to quickly wipe up the evidence of his transgression. He felt panic setting in, sure that Guy would come home any minute and catch him, even though he wasn't due home until dawn.

Maybe he'd tie me up and punish me.

His spent cock twitched and he stifled a groan.

You can't think about that right now. You need to put those underwear away and get the hell out of here,

he told himself sternly.

Leaving the washcloth on the floor, he grabbed the briefs and contemplated the dresser warily.

Most people keep underwear in a top drawer,

he reasoned. Cautiously he opened the middle top drawer to find it was full of socks. He started to giggle.

Okay. Yes. Of course he owns socks.

It just seemed too mundane for the larger-than-life dom.

Just before he closed the drawer, he spotted a black eye patch sitting in the front corner. He had never looked closely at Guy's eye patch. When the man was there in person, he was too intimidating for Tigger to study. Something about the fabric of the eye patch caught his eye, and he picked it up curiously.

Light shown through the black material.

What the hell?

Tigger held it up in front of one of his eyes and looked around the room. He could see clearly through the covered eye. A chill went up his spine.

Why would Guy cover up an eye that he can see out of? What is he hiding?

His active imagination immediately began to furnish him with a series of grotesque images. He dropped the eye patch back into the drawer and slammed it shut with trembling hands.

He considered making a quick retreat, but he still held the black briefs in his hand. Steeling his nerves, he opened the third top drawer and found an assortment of underwear, all neatly folded. With a small sigh of relief, and trying not to look through Guy's underwear stash lest he find something else shocking, he carefully folded the black briefs to match the others in the drawer and laid them where they seemed to belong.

Mission accomplished. Go now!

He snatched up the soiled washcloth and was almost to the door when something stopped him. He did not contemplate the merits of the idea that occurred to him, but rather acted on it right away. Returning to the drawer with the magazines, he pulled one out at random from the middle of the stack and tucked it under his arm. After one last glance around the room showed him that everything was where it should be, he fled to the safety of his own bedroom.

Even after a long relaxing shower, which included another Guy-inspired jack-off session, he had trouble falling asleep. His mind whirled with the things he had seen in Guy's bedroom. Every time he found something else out about the vampire hunter, it led to more questions than answers.

He is obviously totally into the BDSM scene, but who does he play with? What could he be hiding behind that eye patch? Why does he have supernatural abilities? What the hell is he?

Tigger fingered the crucifix that lay warm against his bare chest. Guy obviously wasn't a demon. When he had given Tigger the cross, he had handled it reverently and admitted to being catholic.

No, he admitted to having been raised catholic,

Tigger corrected himself. He could not help but feel a warm glow at the memory of Guy's face when he'd handed him the crucifix. It felt as if Guy was giving him present—that maybe Guy cared for him.

Tigger let out a snort of frustration.

If he likes me, why won't he spend time with me?

The crucifix probably meant nothing more than what Guy had said it meant. It was not a gift but simply a device to help protect him from demons. Tigger's failure to seduce Guy, failure to even engage him in meaningful conversation, was extremely discouraging. The man was impossible to pin down, more slippery than an eel. Tigger realized that even though he'd been living in Guy's house for three weeks now, he really knew almost nothing about him.

*****

As Guy stepped into the elevator that took him to his home, he didn't think he could get more discouraged. Night after night he waited in the shadows of the most likely places for vampires to frequent: dimly-lit night clubs, city parks, alleyways, and dark, quiet lanes. He had gone over every piece of evidence from the murders until he had them all memorized. Other members of EERIE's elite staff had looked as well. There was no pattern, no clue to where Valjevo might be hiding or where he would choose his next victim. Time was running out. The demon was surely getting hungry; vampires typically killed about once a month. Like snakes, one big feeding would last them awhile. Sometimes they had other means of getting blood, such as keeping human captives and feeding off them slowly over time. Guy did not let himself think about that.

He had looked through all the missing persons reports, trying to determine whether any of them had been taken by the vampire or if they were missing for other reasons. It was impossible to tell for sure. Even those with a history of going missing or running away could still be victims. The bodies might never be found, although Valjevo seemed to like to show off his kills—they were particularly gruesome.

Guy desperately wanted to take out Valjevo before he killed again. Once he had his sites on a vampire, he was riddled with guilt over all subsequent victims, sure that if he'd been smarter or more dedicated he could have prevented the murders. Ed always assured him that that was not the case, that he'd tried his best and that was all he could do, but he still couldn't help his feelings of remorse.

The elevator slid open with a soft swish. He took a deep breath of Mel-scented air and immediately felt his mood lighten. His heart rate sped up as he detected the young man moving around in his kitchen.

Once I take out Valjevo, I won't have a reason to keep him with me

.

Mel can't stay here anyway,

he told himself sternly.

There is no future for us, and the sooner we forget about each other, the better it will for both of us.

He knew he didn't really believe this, for himself anyway. His angel was the light of his life, the only positive thing to happen to him in a long, long time, and when he thought about Mel walking out his door for good, it brought a stabbing pain to his chest.

Mel's smiling face appeared in the kitchen doorway, and happiness washed over him. He grinned back at the young man. His cock also responded to Mel's presence, and once more he found himself fighting his libido for control. Mel's lips were so succulent—redder than usual, as if he'd been biting them. He couldn't help but stare. His jeans became uncomfortably tight. Those damn pink pills didn't seem to do much of anything.

"I made pancakes and sausage," Mel said.

"It smells good," Guy replied, although in truth he hadn't noticed anything other than Mel. He smelled like sex.

Wide aqua eyes searched his face as Mel stepped closer and reached for his arm. "You'll eat breakfast with me?"

The beast inside Guy roared with desire. He took several quick steps backward, avoiding the touch that he knew would do him in. "I told you not to touch me," he growled.

Mel's smile disappeared and the twinkle in his eyes gave way to hurt. His face was so expressive, every emotion was apparent.

Damn!

Guy's insides twisted at the pain he had caused his angel. He felt like he had kicked a puppy. The poor kid was probably desperately lonely, but Guy knew he couldn't stay in the same room with Mel—not when he smelled like that. "I've already eaten," he lied as he turned and took the stairs two at a time to the lower floor.

As he descended the staircase, the scent of Mel's cum hit him like a tidal wave. He could tell Mel jacked off a lot, two or three times a day at least. And he understood this. Mel was only twenty-one and he was probably bored out of his skull. Hell, he himself was jacking off at least that much, and it didn't even seem to take the edge off his lust. He hurried to his bedroom. Usually the scent was strongest by Mel's bedroom door, but today as he opened the door to his own room, the scent enveloped him. Clearly Mel had jacked off in his bedroom.

Right here on the floor in front of my dresser, about ten hours ago,

his senses told him

.

With a groan of need, Guy's fingers flew to his fly, letting his fully engorged cock out of his jeans. He made short work of his own erection, imagining what Mel had looked like on the floor of his bedroom pleasuring himself. As his own cum splashed out to mingle with the scent of Mel's, he let out a low guttural cry and grabbed the edge of the dresser to keep from going down.

As he recovered from his orgasm, he realized that Mel had been in his drawers. The lighter scent of his hands was on the drawer handles. Guy investigated with his nose and discovered that Mel had been in his paraphernalia drawers, his sock drawer, and his underwear drawer. He opened each drawer and determined that Mel had touched a few things.

He'd taken a magazine.

Interesting.

He'd picked up one of his eye patches.

He has no doubt figured out that I can see out them.

Guy groaned inwardly. The irrepressible young man would be full of questions he wasn't at liberty to answer, of that he was sure. And lastly, Mel had fingered a pair of his underwear.

No, more than fingered.

Guy brought the underwear up to nose. Mel had cum on his underwear and then washed them. Guy's cock exploded into rock-hard readiness again.

*****

Tigger was miserable. He'd been at Guy's house for exactly a month now. He had nothing to do except moon over his unrequited love and jack off. He spent much of his time on the Internet, playing games or surfing. He did some research on vampires but didn't find anything that he felt was believable or reliable. He longed to ask Guy questions, but not only was his host almost never there, he was taciturn. He answered all of Tigger's questions as briefly as possible and sometimes not at all. Although Guy often seemed happy to see him at first, he would quickly become brusque, bordering on rude. He wondered if Guy was schizophrenic; even Tigger's bipolar friend, David, didn't have such rapid mood swings. One thing Tigger was sure of: Guy was as unhappy as he was.