The bath has been drawn in expectation of our requirements and we all sink gratefully into the hot water, allowing the stickiness of our previous lovemaking to soak from our bodies. The bath is big enough for Bridge to float on his back looking up at the ceiling.
"It looks like the sky," he says dreamily, as if he is still half asleep.
"What looks like the sky?" I'm busy, rubbing soap into Sacha's body and haven't been paying any attention to what Bridge is doing. I have to smile, when I see him floating. Just about everything Bridge does, make me smile.
"The ceiling. It's blue and white and far away. It's like the sky."
I glance up. The ceiling is far away, true but it does not remind me at all of the sky. It is arched with white beams curving in to an apex, from which hangs, what looks like spiky ball of ice, which illuminates the room. The walls and the ceiling are painted a kind of duck egg blue. Alright I'll admit that the colours might be sky-like, but all it reminds me of, vaguely, is a rather modern church.
Sacha takes the words right out of my mouth. "Maybe, in your world, Bridge."
"I like my world," he says, un-fazed. "In my, world the sun is shining right over me, in a summer sky with white clouds. In my world, I'm floating in a pool, deep in the forest, fed by a waterfall. There're cool green trees all around and wood nymphs playing in the water and..."
"Who are you are calling a nymph?" Sacha laughs and splashes water on him. He's startled and capsizes, thrashing for a moment and going under, until he finds his feet. When he erupts from the water, his hair flying everywhere, scattering droplets like diamonds - he looks like a water elemental.
"You're the nymph," Sacha breathes. "And you've cast a spell on us all."
Again, we exchange a glance and, while we're doing it Bridge plunges into the water and comes up between us.
"Bridge! I'm all wet now."
"You're in the bath, Sacha. You're supposed to be wet."
Laughing, Sacha takes him in his arms and kisses him. "God, you're beautiful, Bridge," he whispers. Bridge throws his arms around his neck and presses his body against him, his only response the hug.
I watch them play... my boys. They look so young, but Sacha is over forty in the years of the outside. I have no idea how old Bridge is, neither does he, but I'm guessing he's under twenty, maybe as young as eighteen. I look down at my hand and see long slender fingers, with black lacquered nails and a single silver ring. They are the hands of a boy of barely eighteen and I have the face and body to go with them. And yet, that it the biggest deceit of all. I have been eighteen for over seven thousand years and lately I've been feeling every one of them. But not now. Now I feel like I am eighteen again.
Wrapping my arms around both of them, I rest my head on Sacha's shoulder, while stroking Bridge's hair.
"It has been a long time, a very long time since I have opened my heart to anyone. I have felt fondness and I have felt tenderness, but briefly, like oases in a desert of careless heartlessness and sterility. I have committed atrocities, for nothing but the thrill of them. Perhaps, I have been seeking death, but only found it in others.
"And now." Both of them have lifted their faces and are staring at me, slightly apprehensive. I smile at each one in turn and they must see what I am feeling in my eyes, because they both mirror the smile back at me. "How can I say that I love you when I have forgotten what love is? And yet... For now, let me just say that you have opened a heart that has been closed for more years than you can imagine and which I had half believed had turned to dust.
"You are my family now. There is no one on this earth that I value more than you... and Aqua whom I am sure you will grow to love as much as I do. He is something... someone very special He has something within him that makes him..." I smile, how can I explain? "Aqua will be made as I am. He has the strength and the special qualities needed to make the transition. You, my little flowers, I would ascend in a moment, if I could, but you are too fragile and you would die in the transition. Know this, that even though you will remain human, you are no less to me for it.
"Someone I loved... love very much pointed out to me recently that my disregard for humanity was a foolish and crass one. The flower that grows in the earth and blooms for just a brief span is the most beautiful of all, far more so than the gardener who reaps it, or the woman who sets it in the vase, or the man who smells its sweetness. Once, I knew that, but I had allowed myself to forget, perhaps it hurt less that way. But no more. You are both precious to me, more precious than I can begin to express. You have done more for me than I thought anyone was able to do and for that you have my love, you have my protection and you have my gratitude."
They both look at me, somewhat stunned and then Bridge starts to laugh. "You don't half speak a lot of bollocks sometimes."
I stare at him, in shock and he splashes water in my face. Grabbing him around the waist, I lift him off his feet to kiss him deeply, then set him down again and climb from the bath.
"Bollocks or not, I have to warn you that you are in serious danger of being eaten, if you don't get your arses out of that bath and into some clothes pretty damn quick."
Bridge giggles. "You can eat me any time." I glare at him. He's biting his lip suggestively and looking up at me through lowered lashes.
"That's not the bit of you I would be scooping out with a spoon. I only eat the best bits."
"Are you trying to tell me that's not my best bit?" He pouts, prettily.
Laughing and shaking my head, I wrap a towel around my waist and precede them from the bathroom.
The terrace is a long patio on the South side of the house. It is shaded by lilac trees and screened from the rest of the grounds by white painted iron trellises, wound with roses.
Cast iron tables and chairs, also painted white, are clustered in groups along the whole length of it and it is heated by garden heaters when there is a chill. There is no need for them tonight.
When I dine on the terrace no one else bothers me, unless I specifically ask them to join me. Other than that, it is used often by all of the boys. The household staff never comes here, unless it is to clean or tend the trees and flowers.
A trailing honeysuckle is vying with the lilac to scent the air and there is a cool breeze, teasing the leaves and making them whisper softly. Almost as if it is part of the sounds of the evening I hear soft moans and smile to myself. At least he's not screaming.
As I muse, there is a loud cry and a curse, as a figure rises suddenly from one of the day beds, at the far end of the terrace. "Demon," a voice hisses and I wonder if I have gone too far, in sending Serif to Aqua. I hurry towards the figure, who suddenly laughs and springs like a big cat, landing on the bed again, with a howl.
I am, actually, shocked to see that the person who had been driven back was Serif. He is naked to the waist, and bleeding from a number of scratches and bites. He is also on fire, his eyes wild and his teeth bared. By the time I get there, he is on the bed, pinning Aqua's hands above his head and kneeling on his legs, to prevent him kicking him off again.
What really surprises me, is the look on Aqua's face. He is as wild as Serif, and there's a fire in his eyes that turns the pupils red. He is fighting like a demon but, as we approach, he raises his head to meet Serif's and kisses him, in a way that can only be described as violent.
"Serif, that's enough." I say, not loudly but with authority in my words. He turns his head, his eyes wide and snarls at me. "Serif... enough!"
He blinks, looking dazed, then gets slowly to his feet, his head bowed. "Yes, My Lord."
"Is this your interpretation of 'looking after' my guest?"
He looks up at me through long, bright lashes, licking blood off those pretty lips and his eyes are burning. "Yes, My Lord," he says, in a voice thick with lust. I have to exert control to prevent myself laughing.
"Go find Taz and burn off your... excess enthusiasm. But be careful, he's still fragile."
"Yes, My Lord." He flashes a glance at Aqua that elicits a similar one in return, then bounces off, tossing his hair.
"Are you alright?"
Aqua's eyes instantly lose their fire and are cold, when he regards me. "What makes you think that I wouldn't be?" He sits up and I can see that is shirt is torn and there is blood on the edges of the tears."
"Serif can get carried away. He looks like an angel, but he can be somewhat... enthusiastic."
"So can I," he returns, getting to his feet. He is glorious. I suspect that Serif has had a hand in dressing him, because, from the waist down he is encased in creaking leather, with silver chains and leather belts, slung low across his hips. The shirt he is wearing had once been pristine white silk, but is now slashed and bloody. He has been sweating and the smell of him makes my nostrils flare, as the sight of him widens my eyes.
"What are you looking at?" he demands, his eyes meeting mine with clear challenge.
"You look good."
"I know." He tosses the beautiful white hair, which now hangs to his waist like smooth silk, over his shoulders and his turquoise eyes snap fire. They are so large and deep and blue. Shaking myself mentally, I pull myself back from the edge of the abyss. Now that I know who he is, I am in danger of losing myself completely in him and he is not ready for that yet.
His eyes flick over my shoulder. "Who are these?" he asks, his voice dripping with distain, "Some of your pets?"
I feel Sacha tense at my shoulder and I slip my arm around his waist, pulling Bridge close on the other side. "No. These are my family, as you soon will be."
He sneers. "In your dreams, freak. I've been told clearly enough that I'm trapped here, but don't expect me to like it. And don't expect me to let you take me without a fight either."
"You didn't seem to be objecting to Serif."
"He isn't the one who kidnapped me and is keeping me prisoner as part of some sick blood bank/harem. He's hot, exciting and expects nothing from be but a good hard fuck. And besides... in case you hadn't noticed I WAS fighting."
"Yes... you were." I can't keep the lust out of my voice and he all but snarls at me.
"I'll fight harder than that with you, you sick bastard. There's no way I'll let you touch me without doing my very best to gouge out your eyes, tear out your guts, cut of your dick and stuff it down your throat."
"I'll look forward to it. However..." Regretfully, I sigh. "I give you my word that I will not take you unless and until you ask me to. Until then, you have the freedom of my house. You may sleep with who you wish... or not. No one will demand anything of you, least of all me. You will live in your own apartments, next to mine. Sacha will be your companion, but he will satisfy himself in my bed and not with you, unless you ask it of him."
He looks uncertain now. "You... you're not going to force me to have sex with you? You're not going to rape me?"
"Of course not. I never force myself on anyone."
"Like you didn't do that to me." he drawls.
"I didn't hear too many complaints and, if I am not mistaken, at our original meeting we made a business deal."
He considers. "Do you really think you bought me, body and soul for a glass of JD?"
"Not at all. You are your own man. I want you, but I don't own you and I am prepared to wait for you."
"You'll wait a fucking long time then."
