Master: Crimson

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Master: Crimson Page 11

by Jane Bled


  “I apologize for worrying you. I know I haven’t been myself. Blame it all on Raiden! It’s not every day I get the opportunity to work with someone with whom I share such a strong mutual admiration. From this point on, I promise not to cause you any more unnecessary concern.”

  The stench of his well-acted lie made him physically ill. Raiden gaped at him for a few seconds before rolling his eyes, seeming to have regained his composure. Gabriel, however, knew better. I’m catching onto you, Raiden. You may not know it, but you’ve met your fucking match. Despite the churning in his gut, Gabriel smiled candidly for the first time since the night of his change.

  “Not trying to rain on your parade, boss, but what are you going to do about all your other engagements? You have a lot of talk show gigs booked for the next few weeks—”

  “Let me worry about that, Joe. I’ll contact you when I need an escort.”

  He nearly stumbled as a whoosh of dizziness slowed his frenzied pacing. It was becoming increasingly difficult to keep up the charade. Inside, he was screaming.

  “I just—I just don’t want to see you get sick again, boss. Are you sure you’re going to be able to juggle this many things at once? I imagine working on the movie with Raiden-san will take up most of your time, and—”

  “Joe, you’re not listening to me. I will take care of it, okay? This is nothing I can’t handle. Just do your job and be ready for me when I need you. Got it? And one more—”

  Raiden’s foot came out of nowhere, impeding his pathway. Gabriel reacted too late, shouting a curse as he crashed into the side of the car. Miraculously enough, he managed to keep a grip on the phone. The older vampire loomed over him, laughing viciously as spurts of pain wracked his body. Wrath roiled in the pit of Gabriel’s stomach. For a moment, he forgot all about Joe.

  “What the FUCK was that for, you little piece of SHIT?”

  “Huh? Boss? Are you talking to me?”

  “I wanted you to get off the phone.”

  The singer smiled with faux innocence as Gabriel’s enraged face turned a torrid shade of purple.

  “I’m going to kill you,” Gabriel mouthed. He was unable to move under the weight of embarrassment and anger. Raiden’s smile crossed into the territory of feral.

  “If I said something to offend you, boss, if you’re not happy with me, then let’s talk about it. I really don’t think I deserve to be treated this way.”

  Whoops. He had forgotten all about poor Joe. Forcing open gritted teeth, he attempted to make amends.

  “No, no, no, Joe! I wasn’t talking to you. I was talking to—Raiden’s—dog. The little fucker tried to bite me! I’m sorry. My frustration wasn’t at all directed toward you.”

  “Oh! Well, that’s a relief,” Joe laughed. The sound was hollow, and not quite real, but Gabriel knew better than to say anything about it.

  “So anyway, I really have to dash—just do me a favor: let the rest of the staff know what’s going on. Tell them to behave normally, and that I’ll still pop in from time to time, but for a little while, I’ll be spending the majority of my days at Raiden‘s. I’ll talk to you later, Joe. Take care.”

  Gabriel nearly hung up, but then he remembered one last important detail.

  “Oh, and Joe? Have Laurent draw up some contracts for everyone to sign, stating that if they leak any of this confidential information to the press about my whereabouts, my activities, or my partnership with Raiden, I will make sure that they never again see anything other than the inside of a jail cell and their own asshole. Got it?”

  Raiden coughed slightly in a shoddy attempt at disguising his amusement. Oh, crap, I sounded just like…him. A crinkle of worry creased Gabriel’s forehead. It’s starting already.

  “I—I got ya, boss. I’ll take care of it. But…Mr. Colin? What about Mr. Ken? What should I tell him? Or did you already talk to him?”

  Gabriel flinched. It had been years since Joe had addressed him in such a formal manner. More importantly, he didn’t want to be reminded of his best friend, Ken, who was supposed to arrive tonight from a sojourn in Ibiza. Obviously, Ken had no idea what was going on; Gabriel wanted to keep him in the dark, at least for now.

  “Just let him know what my plans are. I’ll talk to him about it personally later, when I’m not so busy. Goodbye, Joe.”

  Without awaiting a response, the actor snapped his phone shut. Raiden squatted down, meeting his eyes. The older vampire pursed his lips. The rage Gabriel had put on hold for Joe’s sake came slinking back. Just as he was getting ready to hurl Raiden into the side of the garage, his creator spoke.

  “This is how it’s going down. The only way I’ll ever let you stay here is if you pass the test.”

  Surprised by Raiden’s statement, Gabriel refrained from socking his lights out. He crossed his arms over his chest and stuck out his chin.

  “What test?”

  Raiden leaned in closer. Gabriel saw the slight stubble on his chin, the dots of moisture dabbed on his upper lip, the shiny surface of the tiny scar above his eyebrow. He focused on these details to calm himself—to distract his thoughts from turning lethal.

  “I’ll take you on your second feed. If you can get through it this time without any added drama, I’ll teach you everything you need to know. But there are conditions to my offer.”

  He waited, silent for now. The actor had some conditions of his own to share.

  “First of all, you have to get through a couple of days without eating. I’m leaving town in a few hours with the rest of my band. We have some promotional work to do, and I won’t be back for two days. You have to wait for me to eat.”

  A murmur of protest bubbled from his lips, but Raiden kept talking.

  “Secondly, I’m not leaving you here alone with all my shit. How do I know you’re not going to steal anything?”

  “Right, when I practically piss gold!” Gabriel scoffed. He rolled his eyes. Raiden barked out a laugh, showing all his teeth for once.

  “Well, I don‘t want you here nosing around.”

  “Time out,” Gabriel huffed. “As I recall, you were the one practically begging me to ‘work something out’ when I was on the phone with Joe, remember? So you really can‘t be the one giving all the demands.”

  “It‘s MY house.”

  “It‘s YOUR FAULT I‘m here in the first place.”

  “It‘s not MY fault, it‘s YOUR fault. You‘re the one—”

  “Look, I don‘t want to start this again, okay? We obviously have a difference in opinion.”

  “Duh.”

  “Why are you such an insufferable brat?”

  “Why are you such a pansy-assed, narcissistic, vain, pompous asshole?”

  They both stood up at the same time, chests heaving with resentment. Gabriel’s mouth spun out of control.

  “Oh, I’m the asshole, huh? Yeah, I guess it IS entirely my fault! I suppose I turned MYSELF into a vampire, right? You had nothing to do with it, of course—”

  “I should have left you there to choke on your own blood!”

  “Great! Why didn’t you?!”

  “I told you why!”

  Gabriel moved as if to push him, but Raiden deflected the shove and spun him around, twisting his arms behind his back and pushing him against the car. The younger vampire’s fangs lashed out—he tried to bite Raiden’s cheek, but then the singer head-butted him, and he abruptly collapsed. Startled tears pricked at the corners of Gabriel’s eyes, and he swallowed heavily, trying to regain his breath. Raiden forced him to his knees.

  “Listen to me, Gabriel.” Raiden spoke in his ear. “I don’t want to have to hurt you, okay? But here’s lesson number one: you need control your anger. If you don’t learn to keep it in check, you might accidentally slip and attack someone in public. Or maybe even someone you care about. So work on it.”

  “Let go of me.” He tried not to gasp as Raiden tightened his hold.

  “Not until you’ve calmed down. Not until you retract your fangs.”
/>
  Gabriel licked his sharp, spiked incisors and narrowed his eyes. “I don’t know how.”

  “Try. Just concentrate on moving them upward. It’s like when people discover the muscle that allows them to wiggle their ears. You have it; you just don’t know how to use it yet. Come on, try,” Raiden urged, the tip of his nose haphazardly grazing Gabriel’s neck. He cringed.

  “It’s kind of hard to try when you’re breathing down my neck.”

  “Vampires have to adapt to all kinds of situations. It shouldn’t make any difference whether I’m sitting on top of you or on the other side of the room. Now do it.”

  Gabriel sighed in frustration. His arms were beginning to go numb. I don’t think it’s possible to despise someone more than this. Still, he was never one to back down from a challenge. Focusing his thoughts only on his teeth, Gabriel willed them to move upward.

  After about five minutes of this, he realized that sheer desire wasn’t going to budge them. Groaning, he turned his head toward the other vampire.

  “It isn’t working, okay? I have no idea how I’m supposed to make this happen.”

  “You did it earlier.”

  “When?”

  “After you fed, for one thing. And, more recently—” Raiden delicately cleared his throat, “—on the boat. You know, after you broke my fingers.”

  “But I don’t remember doing it!”

  “That’s because it’s instinctual. It’s something you don’t have to think about in the moment, because your body thinks for you.”

  “Then how am I supposed to do it consciously?”

  “It will come to you. Anyway, I’ve decided that you can stay here while I‘m gone, provided that you don‘t gank any of my shit, break anything, or jack off in my bed. Also, you can‘t leave the house. I don‘t trust you around people yet.”

  The abrupt change of subject distracted Gabriel from his task. He regarded the singer with suspicion.

  “What’s the catch?”

  “I already told you, no feeding until I get back. You’re just going to have to be patient. We’ll work out any other details if you pass the test.”

  “Not that shit again—”

  “Gabriel, I’m dead serious. If you have a successful second killing, then, and ONLY THEN will I consider letting you stay here for a while. And all this movie crap, what you—” Raiden shuddered, “—told Joe I’d agreed to…we need to have a serious chat about that. But not until after you’ve proven yourself.”

  Gabriel stared blankly at him. Various thoughts were fighting for dominance: there were protests, accusations, diatribes, but the most defining emotion of them all was pure, simple relief. His entire body relaxed. Raiden smiled at him brightly, almost kindly.

  “See, I knew you’d get it eventually. Keep practicing.”

  He released the actor’s arms. Standing up, he shook his head at Gabriel’s confused expression. Then, he did the most absurd, unexpected thing: reaching down, he ruffled the younger vampire’s hair. Gabriel opened his mouth in protest; however, as Raiden walked away, he realized that his fangs had finally retracted.

  Now, after having been alone for two days, the actor was no longer certain if he could “hack it”, as Raiden had so bluntly stated. In order to survive, he would need to kill, over and over again. Gabriel had always been a selfish creature, but the idea of murdering people regularly to stay alive was an entirely different level of self-centeredness. His neglected screenplay came to mind. Akemi hates being a killer, too. Chilling, how much a figment of his own creation now paralleled his life. If I had only known. He laughed humorlessly, the echo too close, too tight for comfort. He had poured hours, sleepless nights, precious free time into developing his script, his characters, his very future. Now, all the energy he had expended was utterly, utterly wasted.

  To top it all off, Raiden wasn’t anything like Akemi. Any similarity between ended at the mutual thirst for blood. From that point on, they were total opposites. Raiden disdained humans, Akemi wanted to be one. He spurned companionship, Akemi needed it. The vampire apparently had no shame, no remorse for what he was, whereas Akemi never stopped lamenting his fate. In short, Raiden was the anti-Akemi. I fucked up. Gabriel had made a fatal misstep, unknowingly flirted with danger, and now he wasn’t even human anymore. At this point, there were only two real options: embrace the dark side as best he could, or find the courage to take his own life. No wonder I wrote Akemi as a suicidal freak. Now I understand why. Disconsolate, his eyes searched the room for some shred of comfort, some reminder of his former human existence. Something to use as a life preserver before he drowned in his own misery. You’re not ready to die, the Raiden-voice growled. Not yet.

  Everything around him—the scents, the sounds, the sights—was foreign, alien, unknown. The room’s motif was almost overwhelmingly blue, a near-frantic attempt to bring some semblance of calm to the quietly chaotic vibe it emanated. Raiden’s sheets were rumpled carelessly and pushed all the way down to the foot of the bed. All around, vestiges of humanity encased within the existence of another kind. My kind now. Where he should have felt sadness and loss there was only blatant, sneering bitterness.

  Dizzy, he sat down on the bed, the neglected towel pooling in his lap. He had spent the previous two nights on the couch, too freaked out by the overwhelming scent of Raiden to stand sleeping in his bed. But now, after his maker’s extended absence, as his hunger grew stronger, he felt needy, unsure. Impulsively, Gabriel buried his face in the pillow, wanting to feel something like reassurance, something deeper and infinitely more comforting than mere flesh against linen. All at once, Raiden’s smell was around him, in him, on him. He inhaled more deeply, searching, needing—

  The opening of the front door startled him so badly that he flung the pillow all the way across the room, breaking a blue crystal vase in the process. Shit. As if conjured, Raiden appeared in the doorway, eyebrows poised and ready to rise as Gabriel fumbled with the towel. He briefly tried to cover himself; then gave up entirely when the pointlessness of the gesture sunk in. It’s not as if he hasn’t seen me before.

  Raiden sighed loudly, instantly noting the broken vase, Gabriel’s state of undress, and the blood-stained towel.

  “I thought I told you no jacking off in my bed. Gabriel. And you’re paying for that vase. And getting my towel dry-cleaned. Now get dressed, it’s time to eat.”

  The actor sniffed disdainfully to cover up his embarrassment.

  “For one, I wasn’t jacking off in your bed—”

  “Save it, Gabriel. I know I’m a hot piece of ass, and you probably couldn’t help but to touch yourself. After all, you are mostly naked, in my bed, where I sleep, where I—”

  “Don’t make me gag,” Gabriel spat, thoughts of food fading as Raiden’s comments once again insinuated themselves under his skin like tiny, biting worms.

  The older vampire donned his trademark smirk. “Whatever. Just put some clothes on, preferably black.”

  “That’s kind of hard to do, considering I don’t actually have any of my clothes here, since you forbid me from seeing any other humans,” he shot back.

  “Gabriel, are you some kind of moron? Just put on the clothes I let you borrow the other night. You know, when you tossed the corpse?”

  Gabriel balked and bunched the towel in his fists. Raiden’s eyes darted down almost imperceptibly to follow the movement of his hands. Is he…?

  “Stop trying to peek under my towel,” the younger vampire accused. His comment earned a pinkish blush from Raiden.

  “You wish!” Raiden retorted, shifting his eyes to a point far above Gabriel’s head. There was a long, awkward silence. He’s…embarrassed! A downright mischievous grin surfaced on the actor’s face. “Well then,” Gabriel began, standing up and letting his towel fall to the floor. “I guess there’s no need for such formalities. I really don’t give a damn if you see me naked or not.” With that declaration, he strode boldly across the room, emitting a genuine cackle as Raiden nearl
y tripped on his own feet trying to flee the doorway.

  “I expect you dressed and ready to go in five minutes, Gabriel!” Raiden shouted from the other room. Even the deliberate loudness of the singer’s voice couldn’t disguise the fitful pumping in his chest. In the flesh, Raiden’s scent was obviously stronger, enhanced by the blood channeling generously through his body. Sure, the guy’s a despicable prick, but he smells damn near delicious. And tastes— The hunger about which Gabriel had momentarily forgotten returned tenfold. For once, he welcomed it. I need some. The memory of his change returned, along with the memory of Raiden’s opened wrist splattering hot, ruby fluid all over his lips. As his fangs revealed themselves languorously, deliberately, the fledgling vampire couldn’t help thinking of tasting his maker’s blood again. This time, he wanted it from the jugular.

  Chapter 9

  The Test

  A fleeting glimpse of beauty flirts,

  Dancing across my line of vision

  Like the smile of a sinful stranger.

  Raiden didn't like feeling nervous. It went against his nature to let uneasiness weasel its way beneath his skin. Even so, tendrils of worry were unfurling inside his chest, seizing his heart in an iron grip and squeezing out thunderous beats. Gabriel certainly wasn't helping the situation. For the past twenty minutes, the younger vampire had been needling him to reveal their intended destination, but Raiden had refused to tell. He's just going to have to play by my rules, or I won't let him play at all.

  At last, Gabriel had fallen silent, staring out the window with morose insolence. Finally, some peace and fucking quiet. His relief, however, was quickly aborted. In an unexpected gesture of smack-worthy defiance, Gabriel purposefully leaned his forehead against the window, smearing makeup, oil, and sweat all over its tinted surface. Adding insult to injury, he summoned the pure nerve to use his finger as a writing implement, tracing colorful obscenities on the glass. Raiden's face quivered minutely. Just who the FUCK does he think he's dealing with?

 

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