Midnight Thirsts: Erotic Tales of the Vampire

by Greg Herren

  “It is forbidden except in the most extreme and rare cases,” Balthazar said quietly as he tugged at invisible wrinkles on his shirt collar.

  “This is not the most extreme and rare case,” Devin said. “He fucked your cute little boyfriend…”

  “AND THEN HE KILLLED HIM!” Balthazar screamed as he stood to his feet and pounded his fist onto the table. He took a couple of deep breaths and spoke more quietly and with more control. “And worst of all, he took just enough of Victor’s precious blood to write his initials across Victor’s chest, and then he carelessly and shamelessly allowed the rest of it to spill out of his body and spoil.”

  “Balthazar…”

  “It is also forbidden to intentionally waste human blood. The elders are not so conservative that they will overlook that. Do I have your support?”

  “Let’s think this out logically, Balthazar. Christiano has a reputation for being a ruthless and merciless killer. He’s been in many wars over in Europe. And he always came out the victor.”

  “Not always. He’s been run out of towns, and even countries, before.”

  “I’m not convinced he didn’t leave on his own accord because he was bored or just looking for some fresher, newer meat to exact his revenge on.”

  “Do I have your support?”

  “He is much more experienced at fighting than we are, Balthazar. You know his reputation better than anyone here. Before he showed up here, you couldn’t stop gushing about how great he was.”

  “And now he is not. Now he is nothing more than a stupid vampire who has overstepped his bounds and thinks he can come in here with his European charm and take over our community. The community we’ve worked so hard to create and preserve. He thinks he is better than us and that he can bend us to his own will and that by sheer brutality he can take over our community. Well, he is not better than us. He is nothing more than a mean and sick vampire who lives to kill and destroy and ridicule.”

  “Give me a fucking break, man. Yeah, I know he is ruthless, and I know that at times he can be careless. But his hatred is directed at humans, Balthazar, not vampires. And he has a right to hate humans. They killed his lover. And everyone here knows that Christiano and Bernhardt were madly in love. Of course he’s going to be a little angry and hateful.”

  Balthazar squinted his eyes at Devin and glared at him for several seconds before speaking.

  “And now Christiano has killed my lover. Are you saying I don’t have the same right to be angry and hateful?”

  “I’m not saying that at all, Balthazar. What I’m saying is that Christiano’s war is with humans, not with vampires. Victor, as wonderful and beautiful as he was, was a human. What makes you believe Christiano killed Victor as a declaration of war against vampires rather than a continuation of his war with humans?”

  “It doesn’t matter.”

  “But it does matter! That’s the whole point of this discussion. It does matter. Because no matter how much you miss Victor, or how angry you are at Christiano for killing him, the elders will not support you killing him because he offed a mortal.”

  “FUCK VICTOR!” Balthazar screamed. “Do you really think all of this is about Victor? It’s not. Victor meant nothing to me. He was a nice piece of ass and his blood was unusually sweet and delicious. Big fucking deal. He was nothing more than a fucking human who happened to be sympathetic to our lifestyle. I am not sad that he is gone. I am not filled with grief over his demise. This is not about Victor. This is about me. It’s about us. Christiano thinks he can swoop in here and take over and bend us to his illness.”

  This tirade had flown from Balthazar’s mouth with lightning speed and without a breath. Now Balthazar took a few deep breaths and allowed his heartbeat to return to normal.

  “And he’s already been somewhat successful. He’s already infiltrated our close-knit little circle and contaminated one of our own. You don’t really think Christiano killed Victor all by his little lonesome, do you? Of course not. Our stupid little Shane helped him.”

  This drew a few surprised gasps from the council.

  “That’s right. Shane helped him kill Victor, and Shane was an accomplice in wasting the sacred blood. This is about so much more than me being jealous because Christiano Montez killed my boyfriend. This is about us saving our very lives. This is about us saving our own community from a tyrant.”

  Balthazar let this sink in for a moment, making sure he had the attention of everyone at the table.

  “I will not allow Christiano Montez to come in here and bully us into his sickness. If I go to the elders with a united front from this council, I know I can persuade them to sponsor our decision. What I need to know now is, do I have your support?”

  There were a couple of murmurs among the council, and then they all nodded their heads. All except Devin.

  “Balthazar…”

  “FUCK YOU!” Balthazar screamed. “I’m tired of this little discussion. It’s over. DO I HAVE YOUR SUPPORT OR NOT?”

  “You’re my best friend, Bal,” Devin said softly as he looked down at the table and then back up at the lead vampire. “Of course you have my support.”

  Chapter Seven

  Christiano had fully expected a swift retaliation from Balthazar and his cronies. But it didn’t happen. For the next two weeks when he showed up at Club Suque, they’d make eye contact and stare each other down. The vampire leader was constantly surrounded by his faithful, who also tried unsuccessfully to intimidate Christiano. But they never made a move, and in fact, after losing the testosterone-laden staring contest, moved swiftly to the opposite end of the club.

  Christiano grew bored of the routine and of the club. He hadn’t been to Charlie’s in months, and decided to go back to the bar he’d had such good luck with before finding the vampire club.

  The first thing he noticed when he walked in the door was the thick cloud of cigarette smoke that hung over the room like a storm cloud settling in for days of unrelenting torment. He wrinkled his nose at the odor and swiped it away from his face as he made his way through the dark bar. As always, he became the center of attention as he strode through the entry and made his way to the main dance floor. For the most part, Charlie’s drew a local, nonpretentious crowd. They were dressed casually in jeans and T-shirts or nondescript button-downs. There were usually a few cute or handsome young men scattered throughout the various rooms of the bar, but no one whose beauty stuck out or who caused every eye in the bar to turn and watch as they strode through. No one except Christiano.

  He ignored or waved off the few attempts at acknowledgment from the middle-aged men at the bar and opened the swinging door that led into the main country-dance-floor section of the bar. It was darker in this area, and the music blared through the speakers with more than a little static. But the dance floor was packed with a wide range of men dressed in a wide range of dress. Thursday evenings drew a mixed crowd because of the half-priced drinks and the mixture of country and alternative music. This night was no exception, and the floor was overflowing with young, half-dressed, spiky-haired men two-stepping with middle-aged, skintight Wrangler-jean-wearing cowboys with thick, bushy mustaches and black felt cowboy hats.

  Christiano smiled at the sight before him and sidled over to a relatively uncrowded corner in the back of the bar. He leaned against the wooden railing and waited. It didn’t take long.

  “Hey,” the guy said as he walked up and leaned in close to Christiano’s face. Christiano could smell the liquor heavy on his breath. His blood would taste strongly of cheap rum. “Wassup?”

  Christiano simply stared at the man without responding. He probably wasn’t much older than thirty, but the deep lines that stretched across his face, and the blue veins and little red capillaries that popped up around his nose and eyes made him look at least fifteen years older.

  “Hmph,” the guy grunted as he staggered away. “Your lost.”

  “Loss,” Christiano corrected, and watched as the guy flipped him the fi
nger just before tripping over his own feet and falling to the floor.

  Christiano pushed himself away from the railing and ventured outside onto the patio, where a cool breeze wafted the smoke from around his face and allowed him to take deep breaths of clean air. The ten or so tables with chairs around them were all taken, and so he walked to a back corner and stood where he could have a good view of the entire patio.

  His nostrils flared as he caught wind of an old, familiar scent that he hadn’t noticed in many years. It had been so long that it took him a couple of minutes to identify it. It was sadness. He looked around to see where it was coming from.

  Standing about twenty feet away, at the other corner of his end of the patio, was a young man. His back was to Christiano, and his shoulders heaved and shuddered as he blew his nose into a Kleenex. Christiano admired the broad shoulders that tapered down to a V shape and disappeared at the guy’s thin waist. His heart sped up a bit as he took in the sight of the high, perfectly round twin globes of the young man’s ass, and his long, muscular legs. With any luck at all, the kid would be at least half sober and would be Christiano’s feed for the evening.

  He waited for more than five minutes, but when the young man did not turn around, Christiano decided to take a more proactive approach.

  “Are you all right?” he asked as he walked up behind the kid and tapped him on the shoulder.

  “I’m fine,” the guy said as he blew his nose again and then turned around.

  Christiano took a deep breath and stumbled backward a couple of steps. Luckily, there was a wall there to catch him; otherwise he’d have fallen on his ass. His knees buckled a little and threatened to give out on him. His breath came in short, struggling gasps.

  “Hey, man, are you okay?” the kid asked. “You don’t look so well.”

  “I’m okay,” Christiano stuttered through dry, raspy croaks. He was staring at Bernhardt. The hair was blond and cut in a short, modern cut, and his skin was a little paler than it had been so many years ago. But it was Bernhardt. The same exotic, almond-shaped eyes, full, ruby red lips, and strong cheekbones that straddled either side of the long and thin Roman nose. Even the same twin dimples that were chiseled on either side of his extraordinary smile. He looked a few years younger than Bernhardt had, and the blond hair and American accent were certainly new. But there was no mistaking that it was Bernhardt. Christiano’s heart beat rapidly and his skin tingled, and his breath caught in his throat exactly the way it had upon their first meeting. “Yes, I’m okay,” Christiano said as he took a deep breath and stood up and away from the safety of the wall behind him. “Fine.”

  The young man smiled and shoved his hands in his front pockets. It was a move Bernhardt had done many times when he felt shy or a little vulnerable, and one that Christiano had always found overwhelmingly charming.

  “Good,” the kid said as he shuffled his feet. “I’d hate to think that I was the cause of someone not being all right.”

  Can you hear me, Bernhardt? Christiano asked without moving his lips. Are you there?

  The kid squinted his eyes a little and cocked his head to the side, as if he were trying to figure something out. But he didn’t answer, either with or without moving his lips.

  “Wow, that was weird,” he said as he shook his head lightly.

  “What was?” Christiano asked.

  “Nothing. Listen, I really need to get my mind off some really bad news I just received. Come dance with me, okay?” he asked as he grabbed Christiano’s hand and led him back inside to the dance floor.

  “But, I don’t—”

  “I won’t take no for an answer,” the young man said as he pushed his way through the crowd, tightening his grip on Christiano’s hand as they maneuvered through the smoke and the mass of men between the patio door and the dance floor.

  Normally, Christiano would not allow such behavior and control over his actions. But at this moment he was helpless. His heart was beating at an astoundingly high rate, his breath came in short and labored gasps, and his strong legs threatened to buckle beneath him. Every nerve in his body tingled with excitement. He followed the handsome young man willingly onto the dance floor.

  The cute blond wiggled and shook his body unself-consciously and closed his eyes as he swayed to the beat of the music. Christiano was mesmerized and couldn’t take his eyes off the boy. Neither could anyone else on the dance floor. The dance moves were foreign to Christiano, but from the looks of those around him, he thought his partner must be quite the dancer.

  “So, what’s your name,” the young man asked as he leaned in so that Christiano could hear him above the heavy bass beat of the music.

  “Christiano,” he said as he took a deep breath to capture the sweet scent of the boy, and the cool breath that brushed past his lips and down his neck as the boy spoke.

  “I’m Chance.” He leaned in, wrapped his arms around Christiano’s waist, and pulled him closer as he ground his hips against Christiano’s to the beat of the song. “Nice to meet you, Christiano.”

  “Likewise,” Christiano said, and tried to arrange his quickly hardening cock so that it didn’t press against Chance’s leg as they danced.

  “Don’t worry about it,” Chance said as he smiled and leaned in closer so he could whisper in Christiano’s ear. “Happens to me all the time when I get into the music. It felt good, actually.”

  Christiano blushed and took a deep breath as he tried to relax and really start to feel the rhythm of the music. In his day he’d been quite the dancer, and he and Bernhardt had loved to spend an entire evening on the dance floor. But this new stuff was so different from anything he’d known before. It looked silly to him as he watched the young men on the floor around him. But the desire to spend as much time as possible with Chance was much stronger than his worry about looking silly, and after just a couple of songs, he noticed that the men around him were watching him with the same lust and desire that they were watching Chance with. Apparently he was a quick study to the nuances of modern dance.

  Chance and Christiano spent the rest of the evening together, dancing, talking, drinking, and laughing. Christiano couldn’t remember the last time he’d felt so comfortable with someone…the last time he’d laughed. He was surprised when the DJ announced last call and the crowd started thinning out.

  “I can’t believe it’s already time to close. It seems like I just got here.”

  “I know,” Chance said with a note of disappointment as he set his empty glass on a table. “I don’t want it to end.”

  “It doesn’t have to,” Christiano said, and looked around him at the crowd as they worked their way toward the front door. He couldn’t look Chance in the eyes right now.

  “What did you have in mind?” Chance asked as he entwined his fingers in Christiano’s and spread Christiano’s legs apart so that he could snuggle between them.

  “I’d love to spend the evening with you,” Christiano whispered as he forced himself to look into Chance’s eyes. They were light blue and reflected the lights that dangled like Christmas tree ornaments a few feet above them. They sucked Christiano into their beauty immediately, and he’d never experienced a sense of helplessness like this before. He thought perhaps it might be best to end this little rendezvous before it went any further. It made no sense that he thought this man was Bernhardt, and to indulge in that fantasy could bring nothing but trouble. “But it’s not very convenient to have someone over to my place.”

  “Then my place it is,” Chance said as he leaned into Christiano’s face and nibbled on his ear. “I don’t live far from here at all. A couple blocks.”

  “Do you live alone?” Christiano asked as he closed his eyes and allowed the shudder he felt when Chance’s hot, wet tongue licked around the inside of his ear to vibrate across his entire body.

  “Yes.”

  Christiano’s cock was so hard it throbbed painfully along his left leg, and he felt a thick drop of precum ooze out of the head of his dick a
nd slide down his shaft.

  “Let’s go,” he said before he had a chance to come up with an excuse not to.

  Christiano stared down at the young man lying on the bed beneath him and took a deep breath to help him slow down his rapidly beating heart. Chance’s naked body was a vision of perfection unlike anything he’d ever seen. There seemed to be not an ounce of fat on him. His smooth, tanned chest was powerfully muscled, with dime-sized nipples, and a couple of freckles scattered here and there to add character. His abs were hard and defined, with just enough muscle to make them irresistible without looking as if he did nothing else with his spare time but perform endless crunches. They narrowed down into a perfect, thin waist, which gave way to long, muscular legs that had a light dusting of short, blond hairs.

  Chance’s face was equally beautiful. His features were strong and defined and determined. His blue, exotic, almond-shaped eyes hinted that he was not quite as Wonder-bread white as he might otherwise seem. They were framed by long, curly blond eyelashes. As Christiano stared into them, he knew at once that this young man had seen much pain and yet had not allowed that pain to rob him of his innocence and his ability to love unconditionally. He had high and strong cheekbones, a long, thin Roman nose, and a deeply cleft chin. Chance’s lips were what imprisoned Christiano’s desire, however. They were rose pink, almost red, and very full—another hint of exotic genealogy that might be missed if one was not astutely looking for it. They shone with a natural sheen that looked as if they’d just been swiped with lip gloss. And they were always parted in a half-smile, just slightly enough to allow a glimpse of the pearly white teeth behind them.

  Christiano had resisted Chance for as long as he could stand, and leaned down to accept his defeat. As he leaned in to kiss Chance on those lips that mesmerized him so, he caught a whiff of the young man’s scent. It, too, was unlike any Christiano had come across, and the sweet lime-and-ginger scent caused his cock to twitch with anticipation. His lips reached Chance’s, and he gently licked them as he counted to ten in his head to keep from shooting his load all over Chance’s taut stomach. They were as sweet as he’d expected, and much softer than he could ever have imagined. Christiano licked and sucked on them for several minutes, then slowly slid his tongue inside Chance’s mouth. It was warm and soft and wet, and when it wrapped tighter around Christiano’s tongue and gently sucked him deeper inside, Christiano moaned softly as his body shuddered and he spilled his load all across Chance’s hot, smooth body.