by Jane Bled
Scanning, uploading and/or distribution of this book via the Internet, print, audio recordings or any other means without the permission of the Publisher is illegal and will be prosecuted to the fullest extent of the law.
This book is a work of fiction. Names, places, events and characters are fictitious in every regard. Any similarities to actual events or persons, living or dead, is purely coincidental.
Master: Crimson
Copyright©2009 Jane Bled
978-1-60054-328-9
His and His Kisses
Cover art and design by Aoi Shu
All rights reserved. Except for review purposes, the reproduction of this book in whole or part, electronically or mechanically, constitutes a copyright violation.
Published by
loveyoudivine 2009
Find us on the
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Dedication
It is my great honor and privilege to dedicate this book to a few notable individuals.
To Aoi Shu, who gave me the inspiration to write this tale.
To Anie-chan, who has always believed in me.
To Ally and Laura, who encouraged and critiqued me when I needed it most.
To Nobuyuki, who told me to chase my dreams no matter what the cost.
Last, but never least, to all of my readers—past, present, and future—this book is yours.
MASTER
Book 1: Crimson
By
Jane Bled
Chapter 1
The Meeting
I’m feasting on your gaze, waiting for temptation.
You’re flirting with danger, waiting for surrender;
My hunger grows.
Raiden knew he should have fed beforehand. As soon as he opened the door, the scent of blood hit him with a force so physical, he nearly staggered. Ravenously sniffing the air, he detected the subtle nuances of each person’s flavor. The desperate woman, clutching her cell phone while folding her arms self-consciously across her skin-tight dress, would taste faintly saline; the nervousness of her character adding a salty tang to the copper. The beautiful man, discreetly adjusting his erection while trying to gain her attention, would taste hot and heavy, with perhaps a hint of seminal bitterness. Raiden’s undead heart thudded fitfully in his ears as he tried to will away enticing thoughts of food. His efforts, however, were quite futile. As always, the smell of blood intoxicated him infinitely more than the five shots of Jack Daniels he had earlier consumed in an effort to mute the hunger pounding behind his aching teeth.
“When’s this fucking thing going to end?” Raiden muttered under his breath, uncertain as to which he meant—the hunger, or the party. He took no comfort in the fact that he had arrived three hours late, for these sorts of shindigs were notorious for lasting until the wee hours of the morning. A slight sense of obligation, as well as sheer boredom, had compelled him to attend in the first place. Never the gregarious type even when human, Raiden had struggled with social intermingling during his last five years as a vampire. It was easy to interact with his band members and staff, since he had known the majority of them before his change, yet he had never allowed himself to form more than a passing attachment to any of them. Except for Taro, of course.
Raiden smiled, his hunger momentarily abated as his thoughts turned to Taro, his best friend and leader of Scent, one of the most popular rock bands in Japan. Since their band’s inception, the tall, animated lead guitarist had stressed to each member the importance of publicizing and promoting Scent. Raiden knew, however, that Taro counted on him more than anyone to fulfill these obligations. After all, Raiden held the position as lead singer as well as unofficial second-in-command. Given the rising popularity of Scent, it had become necessary for him to make several appearances at these mind-numbing, PR-laced soirees. Half the time, Raiden would fashion some logical excuse as to why he couldn’t attend, but the price he paid for missing these events was facing the wrath of Taro. Although this was never the scariest experience, it certainly ranked among the most annoying.
Stopping in the middle of the floor, Raiden spied the party’s host and felt tempted to leave. The idea of engaging in stilted small talk, forcing laughter, and kissing ass for a couple of hours made his stomach churn. He would have surely fled the scene if not for the apparition of Taro's bitchy, horrified expression haunting his thoughts. Raiden cared for his friend, but at that moment, he idly wondered how Taro’s face would look drained of all its blood. Dispelling the image, Raiden took a deep but silent breath and squared his jaw, crossing the room with reluctant determination.
Taku, the host, was in fact one of the most repulsive and irritating men Raiden had ever had the unfortunate displeasure of meeting. The last time he encountered Taku, the man had pretended to mistake him for a girl. Balking at the memory, Raiden fidgeted with the lapels of his ebony smoking jacket, swallowing dryly as he approached the dreaded host. Acting as spokesman for Scent never failed to send him into a state of unease; due to immense hunger, however, his discomfort soared to new heights. Biting his tongue, the vampire in relief as a small amount of blood slid trickled from it, wetting his previously parched throat. Though far from satisfying, the tiny taste was enough to revive his resolve.
Taku’s bony back was turned, so Raiden lifted an unenthusiastic finger to tap him on the shoulder. Luckily, the party’s host picked that precise moment to sling an arm around the icily gorgeous model he was currently terrorizing. His finger froze in mid-air as Taku leaned forward to whisper into the woman’s ear. Using his preternatural hearing ability, Raiden lowered his finger as he listened to Taku’s request.
“Oh, Mommy, take me to the bedroom so you can spank me and call me Daddy.”
Inwardly, Raiden doubled over in laughter, and rejoiced at the possibility of being spared the torture of Taku’s company for the remainder of the night. Outwardly, however, he allowed only the merest of smirks to grace his expressive features. Taku’s one sick sack of shit, Raiden silently opined. Slowly, he retreated from the man who was hurriedly ushering the impassive model into another room. Raiden shook his head in disgust at the woman’s blatant disregard for her self-respect. Though truth be told, he couldn’t help but to admire her for keeping a straight face after Taku’s humiliating request.
People fascinated Raiden as much as they repulsed him. After nearly five years as a vampire, he had learned to disassociate himself from the humans, now viewing them as a separate species from him. He couldn’t pinpoint exactly when this change had occurred, but there was apparently no way to reverse it. Once bitten…he thought bitterly, ordering Jack-on-the-rocks from the plastic-breasted Barbie bartender. She was giving him the eye, but Raiden didn‘t bother to meet her stare. Instead, he focused on the tanned flesh of her neck, smooth and indubitably soft. He wanted her, but not for sex. Instantly, he imagined her long limbs writhing beneath him, screams climbing higher and higher while his fangs sunk lower and lower into her flesh; until they were flush against her esophagus…
Raiden licked his lips unconsciously as she set down the Jack and tipped him a lewd wink, leaning on her elbows in order to accentuate her practically illegal cleavage. Raiden wondered if he could pop her implants with just one of his incisors, or if he would need to use both.
Throwing down some money, he grabbed his drink and left the bar, shaking off the bloodlust. Out of the corner of his eye, Raiden spied an empty, darkened corner and made a beeline for it. It seemed like the perfect hiding place. The vampire closed his eyes in relief as he sank into the velvety fabric of the couch. He flipped open a pack of cigarettes with the casual air of a lifelong smoker and set his drink down on the glass table. Producing a lighter from the inside of his jacket, Raiden settled h
is lips around a cigarette and prepared to inhale. Seconds later, the sharp scent of tobacco assaulted his senses, momentarily drowning the insistent call of blood.
* * * *
Gabriel had been waiting all night for Raiden to appear. He had even arrived at Taku’s unfashionably early just to guarantee that he wouldn’t miss the man’s entrance. Gabriel usually took great pains to appear devastatingly trendy, but sacrificing his stylishness for one evening was a small price to pay for the prize he hoped to attain. Clearing his throat nervously, he fixated on the door for the millionth time, silently praying for Raiden to breeze through it. When Taku, a longtime friend of his parents, had casually informed him a few weeks ago that Raiden had RSVP‘d to the party, the famous actor could scarcely believe his luck.
A couple of years ago, Gabriel had stumbled upon one of Scent’s concert clips on MTV2. The intro of the song they were playing was long and strictly instrumental—nothing about it appealed much to Gabriel’s taste. He almost turned the channel to a paid-per-view porn station…but then a bleach-blond, slender man appeared onscreen and took center stage.
“RAIDEN! RAIDEN! RAIDEN!” The crowd chanted. Some of the women were mopping their sweat-drenched brows with their sleeves; moaning his name. The singer—Raiden, Gabriel presumed—smirked and blew the audience a kiss. He started to sing, and then Gabriel dropped the remote control. Five white-knuckled minutes later, the well-known actor’s obsession with the half-English, half-Japanese singer began.
Raiden’s hair was loose and fell just above his shoulders. He was dressed in something shimmery and blue, batting long eyelashes while crooning and swaying to the music. Gabriel gazed at the screen, charmed by Raiden’s delicate hand gestures and dreamy expression. The petite man’s voice was powerful, yet breathy in spots. His face held the promise of beauty and the confidence to seduce. As the song progressed, and the camera zoomed in closer, Gabriel’s interest piqued. He grabbed his seldom-used specs from the adjacent table, slipped them on, and craned his head toward the television for a better look.
Near the end of the song, the gorgeous singer slipped into a sweet, effortless falsetto, and Gabriel froze on the spot, too swept up in Raiden’s exotic appeal to move. This man was, in the actor’s smitten mind, the perfect embodiment of raw talent, pure charisma, and androgynous beauty. Not to mention he’s got a sexy British accent. Gabriel felt inspired just by looking at him. Later, he opened his brand-new laptop for the first time and started typing a tentative story sketch, unable to stop until morning came and went without his notice.
From that point on, Gabriel developed the script for Luna Sunset, the story of an unusual companionship between a werewolf and his vampire ally. The initially shaky concept grew into a solid screenplay as Gabriel became more infatuated with it. He envisioned Raiden as the vampire Akemi, since the lovely singer was the only person who could play the role tailored especially for him. Gabriel imagined the camera lingering on Raiden’s dark eyes, and the curves of his lips. A thrill of excitement gripped him. Without a doubt, the successful star knew his muse would make the perfect vampire. He, in turn, would play Akemi’s werewolf companion, Gui.
It didn’t take long for Gabriel to become obsessed with his screenplay—and with the source of his inspiration. He started to dream up long, elaborate scenarios in which Raiden accepted his film proposal, with varying degrees of enthusiasm. The aftermath of these fantasies was quite messy, and tissues were always required for the cleanup. A small price to pay for the quality of the prize, he would think. I’ll sample his wares soon enough for myself.
One night, however—after having awoken from a particularly erotic nightmare featuring a fanboy gang-bang—it dawned on him that if Raiden happened to refuse the role of Akemi, he—Gabriel Colin, world-class actor and all-around celebrity—would probably never recover from the rejection. Why he experienced this epiphany at this particular moment, Gabriel hadn’t discovered. Frankly, he didn’t really care. He knew that he would expend every last inch of energy trying to recruit the mysterious singer, no matter how difficult the task proved to be. His life’s sole purpose became to meet Raiden and charm him into making the movie. Having finished filming the third season of Mesmerized, the hugely popular American television series which had launched his international stardom, Gabriel decided that he was ready to commence his film career.
Acting on blind faith, the actor had secured a summer rental in Nagoya, Japan mere moments after one of his minions had informed him that Raiden resided on the city’s outskirts. Though certain members of his staff had expressed alarm at the hasty decision, Gabriel had assured them that his impulsiveness would pay off. Anyway, it didn’t really matter that he couldn’t speak much Japanese. Though he possessed a great aptitude for language, the actor hadn’t felt the need to learn more than a few basic words and phrases for his six-week vacation. In Nagoya, people bent over backwards to accommodate him, and his Japanese temporary staff members were fluent in English.
His best friend, Ken, had even come along to make sure he got properly settled into his temporary new home. Yesterday night, however, Ken had declared himself to be, “Japan-ed out for now,” which basically meant that he was ready to change locations—again. Apparently, a week and a half was too long for Ken to spend in one place. He was a globe-trotter at heart. This morning, after bidding Gabriel a fond farewell and warning him to be careful, Ken had hopped on a red-eye to God-knows-where. Gabriel had no doubt his fellow actor friend would reappear at some point, since he was always popping in and out of the scene, traveling here and there, buying Gabriel elaborate, ridiculous souvenirs from his journeys. It was only a matter of time before he returned.
Until then, Joe would serve as Gabriel’s chief companion. Joe, Gabriel’s bodyguard, spoke perfect Japanese; he acted as a translator when necessary. He had worked for Gabriel for years—the two of them were close, despite Joe’s position his employee. An affectionate smile graced Gabriel’s otherwise tight lips as he remembered a joke the bodyguard had told him earlier. At present, the burly black man was waiting patiently in the limousine for him. Gabriel had requested that he stay behind this time, since Joe’s interpreting skills weren’t required. Raiden was fluent in both English and Japanese, so Gabriel wouldn’t have any problem communicating with him. The actor hadn’t felt the need for his bodyguard’s protection tonight, either. I think I can handle it if Raiden gives me a hard time. He giggled before he could stop himself.
A few days ago at a talk show gig, he had actually caught a glimpse of his muse backstage. At the time, however, he had not gotten the opportunity to approach him. They had exchanged polite smiles—Gabriel’s was more lascivious than courteous—but that had been the end of it. He hadn’t fretted much over this missed opportunity, since he knew there would be another. He wasn’t too worried that Raiden would decline his proposal once they got the chance to talk. Gabriel was, after all, currently one of the most sought-after celebrities in the world.
As he stood in the corner, nursing his fourth glass of Cabernet, he nonetheless started to lose hope. Maybe he really won’t come. Gabriel sighed noisily in an effort to silence the worried voice festering in the forefront of his brain. The woman standing next to him jumped in surprise as his expelled breath ruffled the back of her hair. He cringed in mortification as she shot him a look blacker than night and departed in a huff. Well, excuse me, bitch. Your hair looked like a rat’s nest anyway. Alarmed at his blatantly uncharitable and disturbingly crude thoughts, Gabriel sniffed his wine suspiciously. With a start, he realized that the liquid still contained within the glass was undulating in a series of waves. Oh, I must be drunk. Hoping to numb the pain of disappointment, Gabriel gulped down the remaining contents of his glass, anxiety dragging its leaden feet along the inside of his chest.
As the minutes ticked by, however, there was no sign of the singer. It was getting late, and not a single new guest had arrived for the past hour. Gabriel’s patience was waning; in his intoxicated state, he
wanted nothing more than to go home and wallow in self-pitying defeat. In the morning, he would have to devise some other plan to get in contact with Raiden. The drunken actor sighed. Raiden was so special. In truth, he personified the image of Gabriel’s ideal man. There was a mysterious air about him, otherworldly and tainted, flawed and fragile, yet iron strength lurked beneath that delicate façade. It was always Raiden’s face and voice permeating his thoughts and dreams, waking him out of a sound sleep, inspiring him to beloved creation. Gabriel wanted to be around him, breathe him in, steal his energy and keep it. There was no way Luna Sunset would ever work unless he could recruit Raiden for the role.
Turning towards the bar, Gabriel set his glass on the counter so forcefully, it almost broke. The bartender gave him a withering glance, but changed it into a seductive smile as soon as she recognized his globally famous face. He thought briefly of flicking her off, but then decided against it. Even when inebriated, he still managed to maintain his air of decorum. God knows, I don’t need another rumor going around that I’m gay. Gabriel returned the smile with a lecherous wink, secretly disgusted when the girl ran the obscene length of her tongue along her bottom lip. He pretended not to see it.
All of a sudden, a flicker of light caught his attention. He peered into the corner from which it had manifested, gasping drunkenly as the flame illuminated a pale, angelic face. Gabriel recognized Raiden instantly. Too ecstatic to contemplate how he missed the singer’s arrival, Gabriel floated toward the burning cigarette, its orange glow beckoning him like the promise of sunset. His nerves were tightly wound, but there was no way he would allow cowardice to ruin his chance for success. He had never backed down from a challenge before, and he couldn’t begin to at this point in his life. Hastily, he checked his reflection in the emergency pocket mirror he kept. Satisfied with his appearance, Gabriel stashed the mirror and braced himself, continuing to advance upon Raiden’s small, lone figure. There would be no turning back.
